#SO IF I GET THE STRENGTH ILL DO IT ON PAPER!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lovifie · 9 months ago

Text

Fishy Business (Mermay'24)

Mermaid!Soap x Reader

4k words - masterlist

Cw: injuries, smut, oral sex, unprotected p in v, monsterfucking(?, let me know if I missed any 💙

Johnny has been living in the tank for two weeks now.

Discovering mermaids were real, shock the world, but in all honesty, only for a couple of days before the evil human mind started to think of ways to profit out of them.

Luckily, mermaids were not stupid and knew perfectly fine that they needed to stay away from the human reach; almost able to smell the putrid aroma of ill intentions pouring out of them.

But no matter how good they hide, humans still find the way to, even if not on purpose, to damage the ecosystem. And when you get the call that a mermaid got his tail tangled on the propeller of a boat and needed urgent care, you weren't really surprised.

You sent your instructions, so the poor thing could get the needed treatment while you made your way to Pentland Firth.

It only took you a couple of days to reach John Price's aquarium. Gruff, big guy that offered the empty tank at his fish sanctuary to keep the merman until it got released.

A solid handshake was his welcoming greeting when he opened the door and he let you into his house. “It's nice to finally meet you, Doctor. You’re making quite a name for yourself lately.” He said, a kind smile on his face making his beard move with it and wearing a funny looking hat more fitting of a sailor on his head.

“Well, not so hard to do so when there is so little competition in mermaid care.” You answered, not completely lying. Little was known about the mermaids, and almost every paper that got published was the first of its kind. Your name just happened to appear on most of them.

“Then I can assume you know your way around them? Sneaky little shits, with kind eyes and sharp teeth.” He said, a chuckle leaving his mouth as if he just remembered something.

“To be completely honest, you have probably seen more than me.” You admit, as you walk next to him, trying to keep up with his pace. “I hear they are quite a number up North, they must like the cold.”

“They like the lack of people.” He almost interrupts you with a low unhumorous chuckle. “This one swam a wee bit to the south… and look what happened.”

You see him shake his head, as if he felt guilty himself of the creature getting hurt. “Anyway, ready to meet him?” He asks, the kind smile back on his face as he takes a corner. He opens the only glass door on the hall, and with a hand on the small of your back, he lets you into the platform sitting over the water surface inside of the tank.

The metal platform rustles with the weight of the man walking alongside, only stopping when he walks up to the man standing at the end of the gangway. Standing just a couple of feet away from them you are able to comprehend their size, massive men, broad, strong, muscular, tall men. They definitely don't look like the classical marine biologist who would own a fish sanctuary.

But then the water splashes, making you look to where the surface of the water is rippling, but without any sign of what causes it.

“Simon, let me introduce you to the doctor. Doctor, Simon here has been the person in charge of following your instructions.” He slaps Simon's back hard, it reverberates against the tank walls but the blonde looks like he didn't even feel it. He is wearing a surgical mask and the rest of his body is covered by a wetsuit. A little contradictory thing.

“Nice to meet you, Simon. How has it been?” You ask, smiling as you look up at him.

“Like givin’ a stray cat a bath.” He mumbles, shaking your hand with a strength that has you trying your best not to shake with it.

“And him? How is it?” You ask, trying your best to be professional and not act like a kid in a candy shop. But the truth is, this is the first time you are going to interact directly with a merman.

“Hm… Like a stray cat that got splashed with cold water.” He says, shrugging his shoulders.

“You are good with metaphors…” You mumble, hearing Price snickers behind you. “So… not really happy with the treatment, then?’

Simon shakes his head, looking back into the water. “Nah, the sashimi shit doesn't want anyone to touch him, and his tail is looking more and more grey as days go by.”

You hum, nodding as you turn to also look into the water. “I'll work on some antibiotics to pour into the water… it won't be as effective, but it'll be a start.”

Price turns as well, all eyes on the water looking for the creature that seems to have disappeared into the water. Camouflage abilities are not to be dismissed taking in consideration how little is known about them, but if Simon was just dealing with him, they should be able to see it.

You look into the deep end, the hairs of your nape rising when you feel eyes on you. But the water in front of your eyes is empty, not a droplet moving out of his place and the only thing you can hear is both men breathing next to you.

“How does he look? Maybe if I have a mental image I can-”

You don't get to finish your sentence, at least not before you feel a wet hand wrap around your ankle and pull it. Hard.

It doesn't give you time to use your hands to stop the fall before your chin knocks the metal of the ground, the skin bursting at the hard hit. A single drop of blood mixes with the water underneath before two pairs of hands grab your arms keeping you from going under the water.

At the pull of your body, you feel sharp claws rupture the surface of your skin where they are holding you, only stopping when Simon stomps his foot right beside yours, threatening to step on him next.

“Enough, Johnny!” He snarls at the creature, standing between you and him, while you cling to Price's legs. If you end up underwater, you are not going alone.

It is hard for you to focus your sight on anything, panic and pain mixing in your system. Only being able to see the creature when you hear him hiss at Simon. The stray cat comparison of Simon being really appropriate now.

The merman captivates you, looking perfectly human, still knowing that no human would stand so high over the surface in open water like him, your brain forcing you to remember the fish-like tail under the water.

You can't bring yourself to pull your eyes from him, both your hunger for knowledge from finally being so close to a real breathing merman and both for the fine specimen of a man staring you up and down like you will be his next dinner.

It's Price the one that pulls you away, helping you on your feet and keeping his arm around your waist to help you walk without resting weight on your foot as he walks you out of the tank. Behind you, and without you noticing, Simon and Johnny share a knowing look, only broken when Johnny gives him a short nod before sinking back in the water, the taste of your blood still floating on it..

It's already night time when you hear the noises, like a piece of furniture falling against the floor. And against your better judgement, you walk, well, limp out of the room you were laying down in.

Turns out Simon and Price are not the only ones living in the sanctuary, and there is a third man called Kyle who was the one that bandaged up your foot and chin.

The ground trembles under your feet as you walk closer, each step you take letting you know with more certainty that the sound is coming from Johnny's tank. You see it before he sees you, standing in the shadows behind the glass door as the merman swims in circles.

Gaining inertia before slamming his body against the wall of the tank making it shake. You see his nostrils flare with his troubled breathing, the grills on his neck moving just as fast. It's such a worrying behaviour that your doctor brain makes you act on it before you can realise how stupid of a decision it is.

You turn the knob opening the door, barely managing to get a foot in before a deep voice startles you. “What th’ fuck did ye pour intae th’ water?! I'm fucking drowning!”

It takes you a second to realise it is the merman talking to you, muscular chest rising with each hard breath as his arms, big enough to crush a skull, hold his body over the water surface.

It also takes you a second to realise that what he means is the medicine in the water, the pungent taste of the chemicals probably making him struggle to breath as normal as before.

“It's the antibiotics.” You answer, almost mumbling. The lights from the tank making the water reflect into the walls in a beautiful imaginary that almost works to trick your brain into ignoring the danger. “For your tail.”

“My tail is perfectly fine! I dinnae need yer bullshit! I need tae go back!” He shouts back, slamming his fist on the metal like a petulant child.

“It is infected! If it enters your blood system you could die!” You shout back, setting both feet a step further into the tank.

“Lies! Human inventions! I'm perfectly fine!” The water splashes around his body when he waves his tail to push himself further out of the water.

“If you were fine you wouldn't stink of rotten fish!” Another step closer to him.

“I dinnae stink! That's just how I smell!” He sits on the gangway, pushing his body out of the water to do so, the massive tail that forms his lower body making the metal creak under his weight.

The sheer size of it doesn't stunt you, it being just proportional to the width of his upper body. But the scales that cover it, dazzling with the light of the reflections and looking like its own miniature sea. Speckles of blue, green and silver dancing around making it hard to look away from it, and making it impossible to miss the pink colour of the exposed meat. Not grey anymore.

“It is already looking better…” You explain, pointing to his wound as you keep walking closer. “You cannot tell me that it doesn't hurt less.”

He follows the direction you point at, quickly moving back so it is under the water; away from your gaze and making you frown at how little time you had to stare.

“That's just because time went by…” He says, almost mumbling and averting your gaze. “I need to go back.”

“Why?” You ask, the volume of your voice also lowering as you bend down to sit, crossed legged but with the injured one still sticking out. “Somebody waiting for you?”

“Yes!” He raises his voices once again, exasperated with your ignorance of his issues. “Everyone is fooling around, and next year when they all havd their wee bairns I'll be alone and I dinnae wantae! 'n' I cannae dae nothing about it cause a'm stuck here!”!”

His words slowly clicks into place, his eagerness to leave, the specially shiny scales, wandering outside of his territory. “It's mating season… mermaids have mating season?”

This is not the time to be asking these questions, you are here to help the merman heal not to study him like an aquarium specimen. But you can't help yourself to ask, only second guessing yourself when the merman looks at you like you just grew a second head. “Obviously… humans dinnae?”

You stare at him, thinking it thoroughly before answering. “Not… really, no.”

“And when do humans mate?”

“...anytime”

The disgust appears on his face as if you had just insulted him and everyone he has ever loved.

“Ye spend th’ whole year shagging, and then have the balls to call us beasts… hypocrites.”

“It's not like that!” You exclaim, suddenly afraid of disappointing the beautiful merman. There is a split second in with you remember every singles fable that talk about dangerous mermaids are, how they lure people in with pretty songs and prettier faces only to get eaten alive, how they trick sailor man to crash their boats in the rocks and then they have a feast on the corpses.

The alarm bell is loud and clear in your head, but just as easily it gets silenced when his wet warm hand lands on your injured foot, right under the bandages. He looks confused at it, eyebrows furrowed and slight pout on his lips.

You shouldn't let him grab you, last time he didn't drown you because Simon and Price picked you up. But you are alone now, and instead of pulling your foot back, you lean in, closer to the creature, and peel the bandages up, showing him the wound.

“I did this?” He asks, his fingertip grazing the skin surrounding the wound. You nod at him, your eyes glued to his face not wanting to lose a single expression of him. He furrows his eyebrows again, his hand moving to rest on the underside of your calf. “Humans are weak… I barely touched ye.”

“We are not weak… You just have sharp nails…” The sound of your voice makes him pull his gaze up, catching how you scratch the skin close to the wound of your chin, the sting from the stitches making you itch.

He pulls your leg again, softer this time, and it should worry you more with how much ease he is able to move you, with a grasp of your foot he easily slides you closer, leaving your feet hanging over the water.

He lays his hand flat beside your leg, propping himself up out of the water. With his arm completely stretched he towers over you, making you pull your head back so you can see his face. He looks down at you, cocking his head.

His other hand finds his way to your jaw, pulling your head even further back so he can see the wound on your chin. You can't see him with the new angle of your neck, but you can feel him get closer to your throat.

The feeling of his breath on the skin of your neck makes every hair on your body stand on end. The alarm bells ring in your head again, this man, as handsome as he is, is still an apex predator in the water that would be able to dismember you in seconds if he wanted to.

Still, and with that knowledge in mind, you have to bite your tongue to keep any tell-tale sounds from escaping you when you feel his face so close to yours.

"I dinnae do this one.... Are ye going to stick to yer theory that ye'r not weak? Or are ye just soft?" his deep voice murmurs, causing a shiver to travel down your spine.

His hand that was on your jaw moves down, resting on your thigh for a second before squeezing the soft flesh. Moving up slowly, dragging it over your skin to your hip, his thumb anchoring itself in the crease of skin between your thigh and your belly. Squeezing the flesh once more making you jump.

As his hand continues to move up, squeezing and whispering against your neck. "Soft... Soft from head to toe.... See? Soft, soft, soft..."

With each repetition of the word, he grabs a different part of your body. Your thigh, your hip, your tummy, your waist and it is when he reaches your chest, his hand wrapping around the soft flesh of your breast that he finally gets a sound to fall from your lips in the form of a faint moan of his name.

"What is it, my soft girl? I can feel yer pulse rising..... It's not fear, innit? Or something… else?" The whine that escapes your lips echoes against the walls of the tank, encouraging the merman in his movements.

The merman presses his wide body between your legs, forcing you to spread them apart to accommodate his width. And before you are able to form a full thought, about everything that is wrong with your actions; how morally wrong, how dangerous, what this could mean for your career... you feel the man's wide tongue travel from your collarbone to behind your ear, scorching your skin with the heat of his body.

Your hands grip his shoulders on impulse, feeling the strength leave your body as you feel him roll his hips against yours.

His assault on your neck continues, nibbling and licking until you instinctively wrap your legs around his hips. By the time you realise you are lying on the platform, opening your eyes to see the massive merman on top of your body with lust in his blue eyes.

You look down to where his hips are pressed against yours when you feel an unfamiliar weight over your pubic bone. Once again, a day's worth of interactions with this specimen is proving more productive than previous years of study, for the great unknown of how mermaids reproduce has just been revealed to you as you see the merman's member lying on your body.

And you are only aware of what kind of expression you have to have on your face when he speaks to you. "What's the matter, ye humans donnae have this either?"

"No, no, they have it, like... some do, but not so... like this.”

Once again, a deep chuckle drips from his chest making you look up to him as he looks down on where your pyjama shorts stick to your clothes when they get wet from the water dripping from his body. His fingertips bury themselves under the hem of your pants, trying to pull them down but grunting when he can't because his body is in the way.

He leans back, sinking back into the water and finally pulling your pants and underwear off, leaving you bare and exposed to him from waist down. You try to think of a reason as to why you seem so unbothered by his advances, it must be some kind of mermaid powers. The guy that took you on a date and asked to go to your home later? No. The guy you met online that asked to meet? iugh. But the merman on the tank that could ruin your career? Yeah, he's alright.

But mermaid powers or not, the way you feel his tongue lap at your soaked folds is very real and so is the whiny moan that falls from your lips. You feel him bury his face even deeper into your cunt, slurping the juices and moaning at the taste of them making you curl your toes. His hands move under your thighs, locking you in place so he can peacefully devour you.

Even though the man has no intentions of pulling back, you still grab the hair at the top of his head urging him closer which he happily complies making you moan softly. One of his hands moves closer to your cunt, dragging his claw over your skin making you shudder at the feeling.

You worry for a second that the merman will scratch you just like he did on your ankle, but instead he uses two fingers to spread your folds leaving you as exposed as he can before shoving his tongue into your entrance making you arch your back. The muscle dragging along the ribbed walls of your cunt, flooding his mouth with the taste of you.

A shameless whine escapes your lips when you feel him pull his face back, your grip on his head lacking all force. He coos at you, shushing your cries as he turns you on your stomach, keeping one of your knees bent as he slots himself behind you.

He props himself on an arm, keeping his chest flush against yours as his other arm hugs you pulling you impossibly closer to him as he rolls his hips to slide his already hardening dick between your folds, making you buck your hips to meet his movements. The heat of his wet body making you ache for more, to feel him closer, deeper.

You lower your hand, placing it between your legs and keeping his cock from moving forwards, making it sink into your welcoming walls. A harmony of moans filling the tank when he slowly sinks into you, the weight of his shaft inside of you feeling comforting in the cold of the tank.

The merman buries his face on the crook of your neck, biting softly your skin, just enough to feel you between his teeth as he moves his hips back, moaning at the feeling of your tight warm cunt sucking him back in.

He moans in tandem with you, a song of your voices accompanying the dance of your bodies. Everytime Johnny's hips move forwards, yours move back, the sound of skin slapping growing louder as his movements get faster.

Every snaps of his hips threaten to pull the air out of your lungs, leaving you unable to do anything else but moan at the feeling of his length hitting so deliciously deep while stretching your gummy walls to accommodate his girth.

“A'm gonnae tak' ye wi’ me once I'm out… would ye lik' that, bonnie lassie? Keep ye close, fucked ‘n’ dined, nae a single worry inside of that bonny head of yers but to take my big fucking cock as good as yer right now…” Every filthy word that leaves his lips, falling like melted honey into your ears making you clench around him, is accentuated with a snap of his hips making you bounce on his arms.

His arm that was hugging you moves lower, fingertips travelling down between your legs and rubbing tight circles over your clit making you whine as you close your eyes. You can hear his tail splash in the water with his movements, and you can tell when his thrust starts to become sloppier, almost losing the rhythm, but keeping it long enough for you to combust around his shaft.

He groans on your shoulder when your walls clench around his length like a vice, milking him for what he's worth, making hims moan against your skin as he keep moving his hips, slowly, letting the two of you ride out your orgasm as you try to get air back into your lungs.

Under the tank, on the underground level of the sanctuary and hidden in the shadows, three pairs of eyes see how Johnny kisses your shoulder softly.

“You know… I was feeling bad about dragging the poor girl into this mess, but… I don't think she minds it too much.” Gaz says, eyes glue to the two of you.

The thing is, that just like sailors knew that the earth was round long before anyone else; they also knew mermaids were real long before the rest of the world. But being able to communicate with one of the sea apex predators has its benefits, and negotiating with them usually translates to an improvement on the business.

And if the merman they accidentally run over with their boat says he wants a cute little partner to repopulate the north sea in exchange of pushing the fishes towards their fishing nets… they will get him a girlfriend to keep him happy.

After all, since humans always find a way to benefit from mermaids, it's only fair that mermaids benefit from humans too.

I hope you guys still wanted some mermaids, I don't know how it took me so long 🩷

Taglist: @crashtestbunny @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries @waiting-so-long @mothymunson @cod-z

@lyralein @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @thatonepupkai @darkangel4121

@spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @soupinasock @arbesa-mind @cmbghost

@multifandomheathenannie @tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk @reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles

@cassiecasluciluce @sleepdeprivedkat @lunamoonbby @hatterripper31 @contractedcriteria

@vxnilla-hxrddrugs @fraserbraw @rosiehale23 @keiva1000 @sw33tsnow

@loveandplanet @sobbingnshtting @dprmoon @simpsallthetime1997 @ladyxtiger

@soapsmohawk-16 @nina6708 @katreintjie @sacvh @thesinsoflust

@sodavrr @yuki2129 @idk-justkane @shanhalen @dukeofjjune

@vane28282 @dracu1ara @vivi2e @lordbugs @murder-hobo

773 notes · View notes

angel-sweets666 · 7 months ago

Text

Stuck together

Barbarian prince! bakugo katsuki x princess! Reader(fem)

Your parents arranged you to the brash and rude prince of the barbarians to save their own skin. warnings and stuff inside of the story: talks of virginity, talks of a virginity check (its accurate to the time period ok?) a/n should I make this a series? I think it’d be fun but idk ur rich btw so just like there’s rich stuff. Btw if I do make this a series(this is a sneak peak) it’ll be a slow burn

full version here

AGED UP

Mitsuki leaned back, her piercing gaze fixed on your parents. "So, what do you say? You give us your daughter, and we'll form an alliance," she proposed, pausing for their response. "It would offer protection from the Todoroki kingdom Flamoria, no?" The blonde woman smiled at your father, trying to sway him.

Your mother hesitated. "I mean, I dunno…"

"We'll do it," he interrupted, cutting off your mother.

"Huh?!" Your mother turned to him, shock evident on her face.

"Perfect. Sign here," Mitsuki said smoothly, handing them a piece of paper. It was a betrothal agreement, arranging the marriage between you and her hot-tempered son, Bakugo.

Your father reached for the pen, the gravity of the situation pressing down on him. "This will secure our safety and ensure a powerful ally," he murmured, almost convincing himself as much as anyone else.

"But our daughter…" your mother started, her voice filled with concern and disbelief. She looked at Mitsuki, then back at your father, torn between the political necessity and the love for her child.

"We don't have a choice," your father replied firmly, signing the paper. "This alliance is crucial for our kingdom's survival. The Empyrean empire is strong.”

Mitsuki's smile widened as she took the signed document. "Excellent. You won't regret this. Bakugo will make a fine husband, many heirs will come from this, she is a virgin right?” The blonde asks “we can get her checked for it, *name* was very sheltered growing up so we can assure you she’s a virgin.” Your father explains, leaning back in his own chair. His gaze turns to your mother, who seems distraught about marrying off her child to the barbarian prince. Someone famous for being a violent person.

at 17 years old bakugo had brought back the head of a powerful tribe leader and put it on a stick for everyone to see, at 18 years old he had gathered a small army of men and defeated the midoriya kingdom and had a bloody cloak from the one of the dead soilders to prove it. Then at 20 years old bakugo had forced izuku, the Feywood king to surrender his crown. Which put feywood in the empyrean empire. No one knows where izuku midoriya currently is, all the people know is that he was last scene getting dragged by his green locks by bakugo and was never seen again.

Later on

“YOU ARRANGED ME TO WHO!?” You screamed, staring at your parents in complete horror. How could they do this to you? You make one wrong move and your own husband would order your death! “Look it’s not so bad..” “NOT SO BAD? HES KILLED HUNDREDS! THOUSANDS EVEN” “He won’t kill you though!” Your father exclaimed, An attempt to calm you. “Look, bakugo may seem like a man killing war machine of a prince but his parents assured us that he’s very gentle with women.” You scoffed, leaning your weight to one hip “bullshit. He’s gonna kill me.”

Over the next few weeks, you tried everything to call off the arrangement. You attempted to run away before the virginity check, feigned illness, and concocted elaborate excuses. Nothing seemed to work. Your parents were resolute, insisting that you marry Katsuki Bakugo for the strength of their own kingdom.

Lying in bed, you tossed and turned, unable to escape the looming dread of marrying the great, scary barbarian prince, soon to be barbarian king. What if he rips your head off just because you refuse to give him a kiss? The thought made your heart race with fear.

Suddenly, a knock on the door snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts. A maid entered, her eyes downcast. "Your Highness? Tomorrow we will wake you early to help you begin packing for the travel to the Empyrean Kingdom," she said softly, her voice trembling as she tried to avoid any kind of trouble.

You groaned and turned your head toward her. "When am I being sent to them?" you asked

"U-uh, most likely the day after tomorrow," the maid stammered, clearly uneasy with your distress.

You sighed deeply, feeling the weight of your impending fate settle even heavier on your shoulders. "I see… thank you," you muttered.

You looked back at the red headed maid “How far is the journey?” You asked her softly, she fidgeted with her fingers “a-about two days, they live f-far from our kingdom your highness” she stammered. You smiled to the red head and dismissed her.

As she left you stared at the ceiling, your mind racing. The thought of being married off to someone you had never met, someone with a terrifying reputation, filled you with a sense of dread and hopelessness. Your parents decision felt like a betrayal, a sacrifice of your happiness for the supposed greater good of the kingdom

You stood in the corner of your large room, watching as numerous servants took gowns, corsets, shoes, and other clothing items, placing them into bags. "U-uh, don’t barbarians wear less formal clothes? Shouldn’t I bring less?" you asked the maids. All of them turned to look at you, a hint of surprise on their faces.

"Her Highness makes a point," the same red-headed maid from the night before whispered to an older maid. The older maid, seemingly more experienced, turned toward you with a thoughtful expression.

"You're right, Your Royal Highness. They would probably end up burning these clothes or turning them into barbarian-styled garments," she conceded.

You sighed, your shoulders dropping in resignation. "What do barbarian women wear?" you asked the older maid, hoping for some clarity.

"Hm… flowy skirts, I’ve seen a few wear headdresses," she replied, as some of the gowns were hung back up in the closet. The maids began to sift through your belongings, selecting items that might be more appropriate for your new life.

As you watched the process, you couldn’t help but glance out the window. Your mother and father were walking in the garden, deep in conversation. They seemed so in love, so perfectly matched, yet they were throwing you into a marriage that promised nothing but misery. The contrast between their happiness and your dread was almost unbearable.

"Your Highness, we’ll pack lighter, more practical clothing for your journey," the older maid reassured.

"Thank you," you murmured, though your heart wasn't in it. The thought of being dressed in unfamiliar clothes, adapting to an unknown culture, and being wed to a man you feared only added to your anxiety.

As the servants continued their work, you wandered over to your bed, sinking down onto the edge. The weight of your impending departure pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe. You had grown up surrounded by luxury and love, and now you were being sent away, to marry probably the most violent man you’ve ever heard of

Tears welled up in your eyes as you thought about the future that awaited you. Would you ever find happiness in the Empyrean Kingdom? Would Katsuki Bakugo, the fierce and terrifying prince, ever come to care for you, or would you be nothing more than a means to an end?

"Your Highness, is there anything else you would like us to pack?" one of the younger maids asked, her voice gentle.

You shook your head, wiping away a stray tear. "No, just… make sure to leave out a few comfortable things for me to wear until we leave."

"Of course, Your Highness," she replied, her expression sympathetic.

As the maids continued their preparations, you lay back on your bed, staring up at the white ceiling. You tried to find comfort in the familiar surroundings, knowing that soon you would be leaving them behind.

"So, what's the barbarian kingdom like?" you asked, looking over to the maids. The older maid once again turned her head to look at you.

"Most of the people live in either big wooden houses with all sorts of weapons around or in these hut-like tent things. Either way, they have all these symbols painted on them," she described, clearly having been to the Empyrean Kingdom before.

"And what about the Bakugos? Where do they live? You asked

"They live in a stone castle with intricate paintings on it, and there's a lot of security. The last time I was there, they had spikes on the bridge leading to the castle, with people's heads mounted on them," the old maid replied,

"How long ago were you there?" you asked, feeling a chill run down your spine at the gruesome detail.

"When the young prince was about fifteen, so around five years ago," she said, placing one last corset into a bag.

You glanced at the six bags of items packed for your journey, feeling a mix of relief and trepidation. It was a smaller amount than you had anticipated, yet it seemed to signify the end of one life and the beginning of another.

"Did you meet the prince?" you asked, trying to glean any information that might help you understand the man you were to marry.

"Briefly," she replied, her expression softening. "He was intense, even as a teenager. Always training, always pushing himself. But there was a sadness in his eyes, a loneliness."

You sighed, trying to reconcile the image of the fierce, terrifying prince with the glimpses of vulnerability the maid described. "And the people there? How are they?"

"Fierce, proud, and loyal," the older maid said. "They value strength above all else, but they also have a deep sense of honor and community. If you earn their respect, they'll defend you with their lives."

The more you learned, the more daunting your future seemed. Yet, there was a strange comfort in knowing that the barbarian kingdom, despite its harsh exterior, had its own codes and values.

As the maids continued their work, you tried to imagine what life in the Empyrean Kingdom would be like

"Is there anything else I should know?" you asked, your voice softer, almost hesitant.

The older maid paused, considering your question. "Just remember, Your Highness, that if you respect them and they’ll respect you."

Her words resonated with you, giving you a small but vital sense of empowerment. You nodded “alright, seems easy enough..”

The day that you needed to travel to the empyrean kingdom came, your parents watched you walk from

The ride to the Empyrean Kingdom was grueling. As the carriage rattled over uneven roads, you gazed out the window, the lush greenery of your homeland gradually giving way to the rugged, bushy landscape of the barbarian territory. The closer you got, the more your anxiety grew, each kilometre bringing you closer to the empyrean land

When you finally arrived at the castle, you were struck by its threatening look. The stone walls were decorated with weird red painted symbols, and the spiked bridge, as described by the maid, loomed menacingly ahead. Your heart pounded as you stepped out of the carriage, taking in the harsh surroundings.

A group of stern-faced and very attractive guards escorted you inside. The castle's interior was as intimidating as its exterior—dimly lit, with weapons and trophies of past battles displayed prominently on the walls. You felt a shiver run down your spine as you were led through the cold halls

Finally, you were brought to a large chamber where a tall, muscular figure stood with his back to you. His spiky blonde hair was unmistakable. As he slowly turned to face you, his piercing red eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made you want to look away.

he was tall and about 6ft with messy blonde hair, scars all over his body and face, and peircing

"So, you're the princess they sent," Katsuki said, his voice dripping with disdain. He crossed his arms over his broad chest, his expression one of barely concealed annoyance.

You straightened your back, meeting his gaze with as much confidence as you could muster. "I am," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

Bakugo scoffed, looking you up and down as if to check if you were just a weak small baby or strong enough to be a wife and a queen “Great. Another weakling to babysit," he muttered under his breath.

Anger formed within you at his dismissive attitude. "I am not a weakling," you snapped. "And I am certainly not here to be babysat."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "We'll see about that," he said, turning away from you. "Follow me. There's no point in wasting time."

You clenched your fists, biting back a come back to insult him with as you followed him through the castle. Every step echoed in the vast, cold corridors.

Bakugo led you to a large hall where a group of people—presumably his advisors and some of the castle staff—were gathered. He introduced you curtly, barely sparing you a glance as he did so. The looks you received ranged from curiosity to outright hostility, they clearly didn’t want you here. Just like the old maid back had home had warned, these people hated the weak.

After the introductions, Bakugo dismissed everyone, including you. "You'll be shown to your chambers. Don't get in my way," he said, the blonde clearly trying to end the conversation between you two before he could get sucked into some conversation he didn’t waht

You followed a servant to your chambers, a mix of anger and sadness within you. The room was surprisingly comfortable, a stark contrast to the rest of the castle, but it did little to lift your spirits. You sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the weight of your new reality settle over you.

Over the next few days, you tried to find your place in the castle. The people were distant and wary, their lack of trust clear in their every interaction with you. And Bakugo… he was even worse than most . He ignored you most of the time, and when he did speak to you, it was with a cold, dismissive tone that made your blood boil. He always had a tone of sass, trying to get under your skin constantly.

as the days grew closer and closer to your wedding date he seemed to just get more and more annoying, constantly having some tone of sass. Never wanting to talk to you and constantly flirting with your maids

oh you are so done with his bullshit

552 notes · View notes

tales-from-elysivm · 11 months ago

Text

★。／ falling in love with you ＼。★

ask: this was a request! but I can't find the ask on my old blog, but I do know that it was a quirkless!assistant!reader with midoriya, todoroki, bakugo, shinso, monoma, and kendo. I did cut off monoma and kendo since I feel like I don't know enough about their characters, if that's ok!

pairing: midoriya x gn! reader, todoroki x gn! reader, bakugo x gn! reader, shinso x gn! reader (separate)

fandom: boku no hero academia

word count: 3,722

tw: none, wholesome fluff with some swearing on bakugo's section

notes: this had taken a really long time on my original blog, so im happy to finally be able to share it, if you're from my OG blog, and you were waiting, im sorry it took so long! and since I can't get back into my old blog anymore (I lost the password), please resubmit your asks at anytime and ill try to get to them asap!

! be sure to like and reblog if you enjoyed !

~the meeting~

You’re first introduced to Class 1A/1B as a stand-in for a sparring partner in hand-to-hand combat. It was better - in Aizawa’s opinion - for you to brush up on your skills while also putting his students in a more hands-on approach to learning. You stand before the class, ready.

You challenge whoever is confident with their skills so far to come forward and fight you. Over your shoulder, Aizawa stands huddled in his sleeping bag. He isn’t too worried, he trusts your abilities to handle his class, and besides, you needed to grow to tolerate them quickly.

None of the students wanted to fight you at first.

There was at least one of their close friends that teased them because they had noticed you staring at them out of all the other blue-clad students. So, of course, to avoid further embarrassment, they step forward to be the first example.

The rules are simple. No quirks. Just simple hand-to-hand. The first to pin the opponent for at least half a minute is the winner of the exercise.

I. midoriya

~ after the meet ~

Izuku really didn’t want to fight you

He didn’t know your strengths, your weaknesses, your quirk, your skill set, how powerful it was versus what it looked like, etc. (cue the nerdy rambling). He had no notes on you!

Izuku had seen you in class every once in a while when he wasn’t busy. You sat by the teacher’s desk grading papers and sometimes assisting Aizawa by running errands or taking over while he took a nap on the floor. But based on your stature and appearance and the fact you were wearing a school uniform, you seemed to be a student as well.

That leads to plenty of interesting theories about you!

“I think they’re a villain!” Kaminari said light-heartedly. It sounded like a rather malicious thing to suggest, Izuku thought, despite his wider grin. “In like… a rehab program or something.”

“Why would they send a villain to a school for a rehab program though?” Iida pulls his drink from his mouth. “It’d be much more likely they be put on community service or in more safe environments.”

Izuku looks across at you.

You’re sitting away from the teachers at the moment, trading notes with a girl in class 2C, laughing as you both scribble away and discuss some class that he can’t quite hear. You wave her off before moving down the table to another group who are slurping ramen over a table full of messy textbooks and broken pens. Izuku knew these kids to cause enough trouble for everyone, but they push aside their bowls and utensils and kick off their bags so they can let you sit with them.

Hm.

Have you always looked so pretty from this far away?

~ falling in love with you ~

My boy falls hard and fast… save him…

Izuku always pays attention during a class, but he always tries to pay a little more attention when it’s you that’s teaching <3

After assisting Aizawa for a few weeks into the term, Momo asked who you were. In all the “excitement” of having to shephard a class of hormonal superheroes around, you had forgotten to introduce yourself!

He pulls out his hero notebook and begins taking detailed notes on you

[Y/N L/N], your power stats and small doodles of you in the bottom corner. Some more detailed, some awfully sketchy, but he never feels he got it quite right

Aizawa pats your head and dismisses you from your teaching duty for the day

For the rest of the class you resign yourself to your desk and join the students in learning the next emergency protocol

He thinks you might be looking away when he glances at you

Are you looking at him too?

You’ve ruined him, he’d swear on it. He can’t help it, just by looking at you. The swell of your hips when he can see you walking in front or behind him, the way your eyes light up if he even gains the confidence to talk about his hero notebooks with you, the little shocks he gets when your knees touch on the floor of his dorm room. Or maybe he finds you distracting in some way? Your voice drags him from each lecture, even if it’s not aimed at him. Your smile lures him in. He’s sure you have to have a quirk somehow, hidden there that you haven’t told him about yet.

Do you find him as distracting as he finds you?

Among his many nervous habits, a new one is born. What is it? Well, drawing you in his notebook.

It’s during one of these very creepy-sounding moments that he remembers he never actually asked you what your quirk was. Nor had he seen it in action before

Other people had wondered about it before, but no one had an answer

So he asks you

You laugh.

It’s almost shocked, but partly sad. You tell him, quite simply, that you’re quirkless. And that Aizawa gave you the position in 1A because you were willing to become a teaching assistant on the side. Though you suspect it’s favouritism, he wants you to have a good education, UA is a nice place, he’ll be close by in case any shit goes down.

If anything Izuku falls even more in love with you. Hearing you ramble with him about your favourite heroes, how you want to be your own hero even if you can’t do the same things as they can, and you’re still here talking to him.

You’re one of the first people he tells about All Might passing on his quirk to him. He’s worried you might be envious of it, or hate him for lying his way into UA, but you beam at him and assure him he’ll be the best Number One Hero you’ve ever seen.

Yeah, he’s definitely fallen a bit harder, if the sweaty palms and nervous heart skip is enough to go off of.

~ fighting for your attention ~

Now imagine this poor, sweet, innocent broccoli-head of a boy finally falling in love with you! He’s smitten with you

But now he’s watching you interact with his classmates interact with you a little more closely

He doesn’t mind of course, he knows everyone loves your personality and just the feeling you give off. It makes them feel warm and safe and you being quirkless limits any sense of a threat to those who are more sceptical

What he doesn’t like is that he knows some of them fancy you

Some of them love you

He begins studying harder, training harder, works out more so he can make sure he can hear your sweet praises and warming smiles

Any “good job!” and “i’m so proud!” you can offer him is cherished. He cherishes you

So he gathers his courage to try harder just for you, so you can think of him as your number one hero!

Now the only question is; do you cherish him?

K. bakugo

~ after the meet ~

An unbridled opportunity to inflict pain on an (admittedly) attractive stranger?

Fuck yeah

Quirk or no quirk, he was going to absolutely destroy you. He was sure of it!

Shitty hair said you looked oddly familiar, but who cares?

Katsuki had seen you around in the dormitory building, of course, he never paid you much attention. You were wearing a uniform, so he guessed you were a student. He thought you were boring.

Pretty, but boring.

Not that he was looking, shut up–

Maybe if he kicks your ass a bit he’ll stop getting so distracted

Or…:

Are you fucking kidding?

You kicked his ass! Barely breaking a sweat!

One minute he’s preparing to just kick you in the gut and land a right hook to your face, but then he steps into the field where white lines have been drawn and you smile at him. You wish him good luck and bow before getting into a fighting stance.

He draws a blank after that. Sure, he lands the first kick, but gets your thigh instead so you skid across the pitch. Then you effortlessly sidestep his next swing and he just wants to blast your face off in embarrassment.

Then, most painful of all, you punch him right in the gut and kick him until he’s down.

He’s butt-hurt, as expected and refuses to even look at you.

Shitty hair slaps his shoulder and laughs as he joins the rest of the class. You brush dust off your uniform and prepare to fight Mina next.

“That was something huh?” Kaminari jests, snickering. “I should’ve gotten that on camera.”

Katsuki decides just then that he’s going to make your life hell for what you’ve done.

~ falling in love with you ~

He’s not falling in love with you, shut up-

Ok so he’s a grouchy boy anyway right so of course he’s not going to admit it as quick as the others

In fact he makes it a goal in life to annoy you enough until you hate his guts, then he might feel better about wanting to grind your face into the pavement

He kicks your chair out when you go to sit so you slam into the floor, shut the door to the classroom in your face, shoves you in hallways at every chance he gets, and even becomes so petty he begins stealing your favourite snacks and drinks out of the fridge and cupboards

Smug bastard even devours them in front of you just so you know that it was him

He hates them but that doesn’t stop him!

And - as much as he doesn’t want to admit it - he kinda hates the small flicker of disappointment that flutters behind your eyes before you offer to go on a snack-run for everyone on your way

Dammit!

He makes it sound like your idea that he stalks alongside you to the grocery store.

“You’d probably get lost if someone wasn’t around to hold your hand,” he’d mock you. If you inquire if he’d hold your hand around the store, he’ll definitely leave you behind. Don’t tempt him. And if you laugh he’ll walk back to the dorms and leave your ass to wonder where he went, searching through aisles for him. He knows you would.

Begrudgingly, he knows somewhere in him won’t let him abandon you there. What part? No idea but he hates it.

Which is why he is now escorting you on the seventh snack-run of the month. You push the trolley around because even with all your begging he won’t do it. Shopping list in hand you throw in bags of snacks and surprise treats for your classmates.

You have everything stacked up now. Popcorn for movie nights, and each person’s specific sweets, but instead of heading towards the cashiers, you’re turning towards the scoop-and-weigh section.

“Oi, dumbass!” Bakugo doesn’t follow after you at first, and he doesn’t care that people are turning to stare at him. “Cash register is that way!”

“I know that.” You smile and disappear behind the aisle. He really has no choice but to drag his feet to follow. When he comes around the side you’re scooping a bag full of honey-roasted almonds - ones he knows you hate but his mouth waters at.

“What are you getting those for?” He curses how soft his voice is now, but he can’t help but wonder why you’re buying them now.

“They’re your favourite, right?” You respond.

“Yeah?” How did you even know that?

You must be reading his mind with some hidden quirk or something, because you quickly explain that you had questioned Kirishima about the hidden stash in the cupboards one time and he had told you almost immediately. So, why not grab some more when you noticed that his stash was getting low?

Without letting him answer you walk past him to the checkouts. He watches after you, mouth dry. He can’t even think of an insult for you right now.

Fuck!

~ fighting for your attention ~

He still won’t admit it to himself so don’t expect a massive, dramatic confession from him (…yet)

No, he’s willing to fight anyone and everyone who wants your affections from the sidelines

Someone looks at you a little too long? (Punch them)

Someone touches your shoulder during a PE class? (Make their life hell)

Deku asks for your help on an essay and you respond with an all-sweet smile that just rubs him the wrong way? (Kill him - but not actually)

Jealousy is a dangerous game for Katsuki

(He’s not jealous don’t even ask—)

He’s willing to completely flip the tables so that maybe you’d notice that something’s different: he doesn’t kick your chair out anymore, or eat your snacks, or try to fight you in the hallways

Instead he does all of that for pretty much everyone else—with exceptions for Kirishima of course

Anything so he can deny that he’s gone the slightest bit soft for you when you both sit in the common room and eat your respective snacks, talking about some annoying classmate that had pissed him off for the fourth time that day

And god dammit, won’t you just notice that he appreciates you?

S. todoroki

~ after the meet ~

Now, my first question is, is it vague curiosity or a drive to urge his strength forward that makes Shoto fight you?

It’s the strength training, he reasons

He doesn’t need it of course, he’s capable enough, but that doesn’t stop him from arguing with himself that that could be the only reason

And no, it’s definitely not because he can see you giving him a curious look over the heads of his classmates, and certainly, not because Kaminari gives him a knowing grin because even he can see you staring at him

So he puts himself forward as a volunteer

For the training… sure

Even after you lose to Todoroki he’s courteous about it. You both bow out of respect and he rejoins the line. After that he doesn’t expect to see you very much after that, perhaps never again. He thinks, despite the theories, you might be a student-teacher from a different academy.

But no, the next week you show up to their regular classes. And not long after that, you’re both working on group and pair projects together.

Like today, it’s theory. Emergency Evacuation in a Disaster. You pick some form of ‘emergency’ and then plot out an essay with detailed instructions for evacuation for the project. Simple. You pick a disaster and begin the essay.

You ask him questions in between, just general small talk, asking how his day is and the like. But he appreciates it. He knows that you know who he is and yet you just ask him normal questions. (Let’s say this is before his arc to make friends.)

You praise him for his strength in your battle and it makes his heart pound. Is he sick? What does this mean?

What do you mean when you say you like his company? How does he get you to stop? He doesn’t like not being in control of how his heart is beating.

~ falling in love with you ~

I don’t think that originally it would be obvious to you that he fancies you

He’d be courteous at first, hold the door for you, compliment things about you, pull out your chair or save you a seat at lunch, it’s simple little things

You don’t notice of course, you just think he’s being nice

But to literally everyone else, it’s so obvious to them that he’s already completely smitten with you. He barely talks to anyone else… and yeah he doesn’t talk much with you either but he tolerates your company more than others

And he’s a gentleman so why would he outright say anything?

(That’s the reason and not that he’s afraid to, yeah totally-)

So instead he sits and listens to your conversations

It’s not your fault he’s having a bad day, but at the moment he’s giving the cold shoulder to everyone in 1-A.

That doesn’t stop you from dragging your chair up to his small desk during your break and eating there with him. He doesn’t tell you to leave, because he doesn’t think he can. He just watches you pull out utensils and begin to eat. He hasn’t even bothered with his own food, he can feel a pit swallowing his stomach, like he couldn’t cram anything in there if he wanted to.

“Bad day?” you ask, like you couldn’t already tell. “Don’t wanna talk about it?”

He nods at you. He can’t lie. And he sure as hell can’t ignore you.

“I understand,” you give a thoughtful hum, eating a bite of your food. “My day was pretty crappy too. It gets like that sometimes, you just gotta keep going. You can’t stop living just because your head’s a bit heavy.”

He didn’t ask for your advice, and maybe before that would’ve bothered him that you didn’t stop talking, but now he can’t find it in him to be frustrated. His annoyance deflates at your presence. You radiate this homely comfort he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Shoto goes through the effort of pulling out his food, just so you might feel better about it.

He forces out the words;

“And your day? Tell me about it… please.”

~ fighting for your attention ~

Now shoto is less likely to actually try and confront others about their shared affections

In fact in normally takes him a good while to officially realise that he loves you

But pretty soon he just begins to seek you out more

As he grows more social, earns new friends and becomes accustomed to everyone, you work with him closely to help him learn social cues and overcome his trauma

He comes to like touching you, whether it be a hand on his head, touching knees in the dorms, a simple hug, or you leaning on him until you fall asleep on him during the winter. He feels comfortable with you

But with this realisation comes one more;

He wonders if he could handle going back to living without you

H. shinso

~ after the meet ~

Now, shinso’s quirk is pretty hard to implement in a fight, which is why he mainly prefers hand-to-hand

Overall, he feels tired, if not a little bored, by the spar with you

He hadn’t noticed you at all before this lesson in 1C, but his teacher had said that you were helping by moving down from 1A

Why, he couldnt figure out

But nonetheless, he finds you watching him while waiting to spar you in your first physical education class together, so he volunteers

And he quickly gets disqualified–

He swears he doesn’t mean to, but almost as soon as he begins the fight, you overwhelm him.

What you lack in a visible quirk, you make up for in speed, kicking and jabbing and ducking away before he can get a hit in. It’s when he finds you hovering over his shoulder, about to throw a punch to his face, that he panics and asks for your name.

A bit confused, slowing down a little bit, you give it to him, and almost as quickly, you’re under his control. The teacher immediately barks at him to release his control, and he obliges, but he’s still disqualified and you’re given an instant win. When you stumble, regaining your own self-control, you look up at him in bemusement.

But you don’t look scared at all, instead you smile at him.

“Brainwashing? That’s a pretty cool quirk, huh?”

You confuse him, and he’s not sure if he likes it yet.

~ falling in love with you ~

After you move down to 1C to work on your General Hero courses, you begin to grow closer with Shinso

You don’t think that his quirk is any different to the others at UA, which he is somewhat confused by

‘Some of these guys can set people on fire! Brainwashing doesn’t sound too different to the others you see here’, was your only explanation whenever he asked about it

Overtime, you become one of his only friends in 1C, he tolerates you

He spends most of his time with you, studying, eating, talking, he helps you write papers on general hero practices, telling you about his history with children being scared of his ‘villain quirk’

All things considered, he trusts you, and i dont think he could say that for many other people at UA

You both sit cross-legged on the floor of his dorm room. He very rarely decorates it, but you begged him to let you set up the fairy lights and little cat decals that were meant for his wall. Begrudgingly, he agreed.

So that’s what you’ve been doing, arranging kitties on the wall over his desk. Cute little art pieces that resemble grey and calico cats.

Meanwhile, he’s studying on his floor, laying back and occasionally sneaking glances at you to see if you’re tangled in the lights. Soon enough you have them strung up nicely in the corners of his dorm-room, sending soft gold light over his purple hair. He doesn’t move until you lay on the floor beside him, looking up at the ceiling.

“What do you think?” you ask, leaning up on your elbows to admire your handiwork.

He’s quiet for a moment, just looking at you, taking in the view of your side-profile.

“They look nice.”

Shinso isn’t talking about the lights.

~ fighting for your attention ~

Listen, usually Shinso absolutely hates using his quirk for anything out of villain fights, because if he does he feels like he reinforces the idea that he might be a villain too

But, when it comes to you?

He’s relatively tame at first, he doesnt get too jealous or overprotective as someone else might (cough, bakugo, cough), but it doesnt mean that he doesnt need reassurance sometimes

If it gets to the point that another one of your suitors is making you uncomfortable, then by all means, hes asking them what theyre doing and forcing them to walk away

And afterwards, having that little moment of supposed villainy feels worth it

Just keep smiling at him

im sorry this took so long!

I hope you guys enjoyed

759 notes · View notes

mullermilkshake · 2 months ago

Text

Yandere Satoru Gojo

@ellavdrea

Yandere!Satoru Gojo x Reader MINORSDNI 🔞 = Tags: Yandere!Gojo, au with cursed energy, graphic depictions of violence and bodily harm, death, manipulation, physical/ psychological abuse.

Satoru had enough of your shit.

The countless obscenities and hits to his face as you thrashed around because your will simply refused to be compliant. He could take that. He did take that.

But what he couldn’t abide was your countless, albeit rare attempts to leave him.

Him. Like he was riddled with an infectious illness or something. Or perhaps he was just that unlikable that you couldn’t bare to be in the same room as him. Satoru was far more than just likeable, he could ask anyone and he’d get the answer he wanted.

He was amazing.

You just refused to see what was right in front of you because you were that stubborn.

“Get off of me!”

You pulled and tugged, clawing at the back of his hand that held so tight like you would vanish if he didn’t.

“Don’t fight this.” He said, fuming purely at the fact that this time, you almost made it impossible for him to find you. Like a mole underground who hung tight until the fox had passed.

Well, Satoru was more intelligent than a cunning fox, he was more of a blood hound and sniffing your scent drove him wild.

“I will fight this- trust me, I’ll get out again and you’ll never find me you son of a bitch!”

As clever as you thought you were, there was always a trail you left behind, no matter how faint. Whether it be a scrap of your cursed energy you didn’t know you had or just that Satoru happened to be in the right place and right time, he always found you.

It’s just that this time was a close call. And there wasn’t going to be a second chance for that to happen again.

Not ever.

Satoru yanked you close and noticed your strained wince immediately. “I’ve told you time and time again that this isn’t an option. But you never listen.”

Now Satoru couldn’t just leave you alone in the house even if he did essentially baby proof it ten times over to prevent you stepping a foot outside.

You’d find some weak point eventually like an octopus squeezing through a hole the size of its eye, you were just as slippery.

Some days he’d be out the whole day, his life still rolling over despite you waiting at home. The daily stressors of sorcerer life put his patience to a tether that almost severed with you regularly.

“I don’t listen because you’re fucking crazy-“

You managed to move your hand and swing for his face, though you knew just as well as Satoru did. His infinity around most of his body was never lowered.

Especially around you.

He didn’t react to it and pulled you down the hallway, the soles of your shoes squeaking on the wood which bellowed your temper toward him. Satoru didn’t have a temper as such, he could make you do whatever he wanted when the occasion called for it. However his strength out matched you like a bulldozer to a sheet of paper.

You were delicate and Satoru worked hard to control how much force he used so he didn’t end up doing permanent damage. But he held out in the hope that you would eventually want to do things with him without coercion or unnecessary force.

“You have no idea how shit filled the world is. You’d be begging to stay with me if you actually knew what was out there.”

To date, oddly enough you had never reacted to low level curses Satoru used to test just how much you knew about his own world.

You knew nothing, or you were an excellent liar. Either way, the only thing that was truly special about you was your cursed energy. The energy itself was unaware of its own presence.

It’s what drew him to you in the first place.

That was a year ago.

Since then it was all still a daily uphill battle.

“Bullshit would I- Satoru let me go!” Your shrill scream became raspy and broken like a tantrum from a child that compared to you acted far more mature.

So for Satoru’s own piece of mind, what you needed was a room with no windows and one door in and out.

Then he’d know where you were at all times.

Which translated to the basement.

And you hated the basement.

Though what choice did he have?

As soon as you knew where Satoru was taking you, the disgusted glare and gritted teeth switched for something far more upsetting.

“No. No, no, no, I’m not going down there!”

“You’re not giving me a choice.”

Standing in the doorway, Satoru took you by the shoulders and even pulled his blindfold down to show how serious he was. “You fight me every step of the way when I’m only trying to do well by you. There’s so much shit out there and you don’t even know how bad things can get.”

You said nothing, but your eyes were so wide they were watering. Satoru took this as a chance to continue. “I love you. And you don’t see it. I care for you, and you don’t see it. I only want what’s best for you and you don’t fucking see it.”

“And shoving me down in the basement is what’s best for me?”

Was it rhetorical? Satoru didn’t care. “Yes. It is.”

There was no way to protect yourself when you couldn’t see curses. Especially with the odd cursed energy you were emitting.

And if Suguru got a hold of you, Satoru dreaded to think.

And then as though a switch turned you back on, you struggled again. “I’m not going down there!”

“Yes you are.” He had to be careful not to hurt you.

“Fuck you!”

“You’re going down there. End of- be careful on the stairs or you’ll fall-“

“I hope I do-“

“Don’t say that.” His voice was so gruff, almost angry. You were trying his patience way too much saying things like that.

“I hope I fall and break my neck then I wouldn’t have to deal with you-“

“I said stop it… stop-“

You lost your footing, whether it was intentional, Satoru couldn’t gauge it and in his profound shock, he didn’t react in time to catch you. He watched you in slow motion and then time sped up, your pretty little neck hit every step in the way down into the dark pit of the basement void.

He blinked and registered. Moving in a blink to capture you in his arms by the third step from the bottom.

“Hey.”

You were limp, eyes closed. Your cursed energy bubbling beyond the surface like a boiling pot, nothing unusual only that you weren’t breathing.

“Wait… wake up.” He said, shaking you ever so slightly. “Wake up right now.”

It was as though you were joking, playing a game with him to get what you wanted and scare the living daylights out of him.

“Wake up right now!”

This time he shook you, teeth gritted hard together and your shattered neck jiggled your head about with his movement. Your slender neck just that little bit longer when he realised is was really broken and this wasn’t a joke of yours.

“No… wake up now.” He could’t heal you, only Shoko could do that.

Was it too late? Had death already consumed you that you would refuse to come back?

“Please… don’t leave.” His breaths were heavy, cumbersome.

And you were just lifeless.

Then, you weren’t.

It was your cursed energy that Satoru recognised, wisping about your body almost like it was weaving together. And then you twitched again, then jolted about in Satoru’s arms until you screamed right by his ear so guttural and primal that it even drew his head back from you.

Yet still he kept a hold of you, eyes wider than they had ever been and in shock at your reanimation.

Until now, Satoru had never seen anything like it. Suguru would most definitely dig his claws into you so deep if he realised just how special you had become in just a matter of seconds. A matter of seconds and everything had just changed. Your need for protection and risk factors had risen exponentially.

Satoru was sure you were still human too and not like the undead he had seen in movies. You were still… you, from what he could tell.

You huffed and heaved and coughed against him, opening your eyes with such panic took Satoru’s breath away from his chest as he held it. The fabric of his shirt squeezed between the joints of your fingers as though you would never let go.

Like you needed him.

You actually needed him.

“Hey- wait it’s alright. I’ve got you.” Satoru held you close and for just a minute, you leant into him and sobbed.

“I’m here, baby.”

Satoru shouldn’t have said that. You glared up at him with a face full of thunder, pushing away from him in an instant. “You fucking pushed me, you monster!”

He initially blinked at your sudden furious gaze, but got a hold of your wrists quick enough before you could through them around.

“I didn’t push you. You slipped-“

“Like hell I did- how am I even talking right now? You pushed me and it hurt!”

How on earth was your cursed energy so volatile that it repaired you without your say on reverse curse technique? You healed yourself at an exceptional rate and were none the wiser to it.

“I didn’t push you, do you hear me?” Taking you by the shoulders seemed to stop the messy haze you were in. “I would never do that.”

But this incident got you clinging to him like he was your favourite person in the world, even if it was just for a minute.

One minute was more time than you had bothered to give Satoru. Ever.

That minute alone would have been enough to get him by for the next few hours before he would want it again, going down a slippery slope he had inevitably opened without realising.

Your voice was broken. “You did- you did do it.”

“I didn’t.”

“Get away from me!”

“I didn’t fucking push you.”

You really weren’t going to let go of this, were you? Even experiencing something as traumatic as you just did.

“Oh really? Then why did I see you just looking at me as I fell and you left me there unconscious!

You didn’t even know the extent of your injuries.

A little spark ignited in his head when he saw how distressed you were. Satoru could use this to his advantage. It was sick, but perhaps this was his way to put an end to your bratty attitude. That feral flame needed extinguishing.

“If you think that I would intentionally hurt you, then you don’t know me at all.”

Your anger shifted back to that of upset and distress, sobbing over your words and gripping a hold of his shirt more aggressively.

“I don’t, that’s the point. I-I don’t want to know you and I don’t want to be here. I want to go home and have a normal life without you lurking around every corner and breathing down my neck all the time!”

This wasn’t unexpected news to Satoru, yet it hurt just as much as if it was. Were you really that repulsed by his presence? Satoru found himself questioning everything and that little poisonous thought burrowed deeper into his brain like a parasite.

If you were unaware then it could be used against you. ‘I wouldn’t ever do that…’ those words held less meaning than when they were spoken aloud.

And if you were to fall down those stairs again, it was entirely logical that you would look at Satoru that way again and sob into his chest.

“Get up.” He said, his expression dropping to numb his horrid thoughts.

Everything had changed. Everything had gotten far darker than he even could have imagined. Your eyes were wide, almost deer like with anticipation of his response.

“Get up.” Satoru softened his tone and it seemingly worked enough to allow you to your feet. So there was no issue with your joints either after taking damage from the impact.

Satoru took to the steps first and waited. Waited until you reached the top behind him all timid and silent.

Then he pushed you.

Your body hitting each step like before and your cursed energy working its way around the body and clicked everything back into place.

He wondered what else your body could take and whether he really had to hold back and be gentle with you anymore.

After that, each time you reanimated, you clung to Satoru just that fraction longer. Every time a slither of your will broke and soon enough, you would be compliant enough to have the privilege of being left on your own again.

In time.

EDIT: ALSO forgot to add, if you’d like anymore Yandere Satoru Gojo or other characters please check out my AO3 where I post all my long stuff and one shots like “sealed fate” which is exclusively Yandere/ dark one shots.

Take care!!

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #x reader #reader insert #yandere #yandere jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #yandere satoru gojo #yandere satoru x reader #gojo jjk #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader

221 notes · View notes

threepandas · 4 months ago

Text

Bad End: Poisoned Cups

I hadn't adjusted well, at first. I don't think anyone could have. Being an elf sound cool, on paper. The better eye sight, the incredible hearing, the stamina. All sorts of perks right? But what they don't tell you, is that when your soul is human? When you get isekai'd by some divine oversight or fucker with a truck?

It doesn't adapt that well, to a new body. Your soul INSISTS you should still be human, with all the trappings, and throws a FIT, when you just.... aren't. So you end up with migraines. Eyes that swim in and out of focus. Wheezing, struggling, breathe. A body at war with itself.

The world was so loud. Too loud. I could hear EVERYTHING and it HURT. Couldn't breathe and THAT hurt. Was nauseated all the time, from my eyes refusing to focus properly. That too, hurt. All of it, pain. Just? Pain. Day after day, pain pain pain.

My poor parents were helpless. The doctors struggled.

But the King? HE could save me.

And he did.

He was younger then. Just barely into his rule. His Father having just stepped down. My parents, desperate, brought me before him. Waited in line for days. They didn't even know if he COULD do anything, were grimly prepared for him to say that sadly, nothing COULD be done. But? Instead? He looked me over, called for several old texts, looked again, then called upon the strength of the Throne.

My parents apparently started weeping the second I stopped.

All I remember is the pain going away. Being exhausted. A REALLY pretty elf man in a crown. Things getting... better, after that.

I was told that story often, as a child. It utterly transformed our household. From merely loyal citizens, to devote Loyalists. Speaking ill of the King in THIS house? Would now get you HURT. My parents had been convinced they were going to LOSE me. The King as far as they were concerned, saved my LIFE.

Which is why I didn't put anything together. Seeing as we were an "all King all the time" Sort of house. We had one(1) team and we were sticking to it. Permanently. His son? Eeeeh, maybe. We'd figure that out later. We didn't care to know. And I was too busy with school work to CHECK.

Which? Meant I didn't NOTICE? He looked? More and more... Otome Capture Target as time went on. Specifically, he looked kinda crown prince from "Dance of the Secret Forest! A True Love For Me?!" sort of Shaped. Which... gee, what ARE the odds? Especially given that so many OTHER things are named suspiciously similar or exactly the same to that game?

.........yeeeeeah. I decided not to take chances.

I looked that shit UP.

And wouldn't you know it? Protagonist-chan? Not there yet. But she SURE COULD BE! All the legends were EXACTLY what they should be. Forests and locations the same! PEOPLE the same! Oh HELL no. Good to know where NOT to be, I guess.

Not my circus, NOT my Otome Drama Monkeys.

I? Would be working for the KING. My family owed him a debt.

And when I graduated? I applied. Top of my class. I studied my ASS off. Could have gone anywhere. But I was aiming for the TOP. A debt to be repayed and frankly? Excellent job security on top of it! So filling busy work in dusty ass backrooms it was. Gotta start from the bottom, after all.

I exhausted them. Was honestly barely trying too at that point. They should see me TRYING to put my nose to the grindstone. Burn the midnight oil! Ha! HA, I say! Long elven lifespans slow you all down! I? Used to live in a capitalist hellscape! This is NOTHING.

I'm not even multi-tasking. It's not even LUNCH YET.

Did I get promoted? Yes. Do I worry my coworkers? Deeply! But shit needs doing and we don't have all day! There is a nation to run! Have some tea. Eat a turnover. Now~! Where are my fuckin documents~☆?

I get promoted again.

Then again.

Aaaaand again.

I'm pretty sure it's cause I scare people. Am FAST. Efficient. Willing to hunt my coworkers for SPORT, like a god damned bloodhound, if it means we get that one extra tax document that makes or breaks us. I have (and will again if necessary) climbed through people's fucking WALLS. Cause, honestly? If they wanted to stop me?

They should have warded the gods damned vents.

Fuckin casuals. Get on my level.

So, now? I am the baby. King's inner circle. And EVERYONE? Is damn near twice my age! And, granted, yes. It IS hilarious I still scare like half the people working under me... but come ON! You are elite government officials! Do BETTER! (Geez. At least my PARENTS couldn't be prouder.)

But... (and God damn it, why is there ALWAYS a "but"?) here's the thing. It? Took me a WHILE to get where I am now. Long enough, in fact, for our... Problem, to arrive. A Problem which is GOING to cast his Majesty's kingdom into chaos and turmoil, in fighting and divides. Religious upheaval. A PROBLEM, which? In the name of luuuuuv~?

Is going to get NEIGHBORING COUNTRIES involved.

And WHO do you think is going to have to deal with that? WHO will have to prevent all out WAR? Religious schisms? Ward off assassins in the night? Certainly not Mr. "But Daddy, I love her!". Oh no, HE gets to sit back and enjoy the fruits of his father's suffering! Make more trouble! (Fucker.)

But, hey! Maybe I should throw in with his SECOND son, right? The supporting character? He seems vastly more reasonable and emotionally more balanced doesn't he? Well educated, cautious, why, thoughtful even! Ha ha... yeah... he DOES seem that way, doesn't he?

SEEMS.

He Is Not. Little fucker is a SPECIAL flavor of batshit. Completely "wake to find him standing over you, in your LOCKED BEDROOM, asking if you want to see his new favorite knife" nutty puffs. Not sure which side of the family it comes from, to be honest. Disturbingly good at getting past my warding.

Or at least he WAS, until I got the King involved. Ha! Royal wards! You can't touch me! I sleep like a BABY now! The only people who can enter my rooms now? Are literally JUST me and the KING HIMSELF! How safe is that~‽

But for real... poor his Majesty, you know? It's not like he didn't TRY to be a good father. Take time he couldn't afford out of each day, to spend time with his sons. Insist on eating meals together so he could ask them about their interests, how each day had gone. Involved them where he safely could.

He's a somber man. A dignified one. But let NO ONE say, he is not a LOVING one.

And HOW do his children fucking reward him? Middle school love dramatics and MURDER ATTEMPTS IN THE NIGHT! Because, YES, I have found the disturbing murder board that the second prince has in his "secret" room. Right along his equally disturbing stalker board of ME.

I, obviously, told the King.

He did not look pleased.

Don't know if my new reality has, like, intensive therapy programs or something? But I hope for ALL our sakes, that the second Prince is at the winter palace getting HELP, instead of just? You know... plotting.

His Highness has a nasty tendency to plot, after all. But hey, his Majesty says not to worry about it? I choose to believe him. Concern myself with more immediate threats. Enjoy, no longer turning around to find some baby faced little creep with a hunter's stare, just... watching me. As I try to work. As I try to eat. Around corners, still as a statue, yet somehow a THREAT, in lonely and too empty corridors.

God fucking DAMN, his little "crush" was creepy!

If it weren't for his Majesty? I would have run and run FAR. But... but I? And you CAN NOT repeat this, okay? It's WILDLY inappropriate! A-And I SWEAR I'm never going to.. to ACT on it! I would NEVER. So...so PROMISE, okay?

....cause.... I may... MAY! Possibly! Just a LITTLE bit! Sorta, kinda, just a BIT? Have a TEENY? Little crush... on... his Majesty? Maybe???

YOU CAN'T TELL!

It's SO fucking inappropriate. Oh my GOD. I hate this so much!? Cause he's my BOSS! And old enough to be my DAD! I SHOULDN'T be so attracted to him, right?! Plus he's the KING! There's definitely a power imbalance there! How would that even WORK?! We would have no future! I don't know the first THING about how to BE royalty. And no one would accept me!

Not that I think I even have a CHANCE! Fuck no! I'm not THAT arrogant.

But, like? A girl can day dream. Fantasize, you know?

Which is why? Having his SON? Be a creepo stalker at me? Kinda the WORST. I've literally JUST discovered I'm into older men! Thanks! BEGONE, zygote! Also, your vibes are RANCID! No thanks! I hated that and am SO glad it's gone. Now? All I have to worry about? Is Protagonist-chan and the political SHIT SHOW she drags after her like trail of destruction.

Why is she involving foreign royalty? PLEASE stop involving foreign royalty! Dukes! Religious leaders! MILITARY LEADERS. Stop "Helen of Troy"-ing your ass through our nice, PEACEFUL, kingdom!!! What the ACTUAL FUCK!? This is NOT A THEME PARK.

I watch, vaguely horrified, as his Majesty finishes reading three (yes, count um! Fucking THREE!) different royal missives demanding three different women of legend, from three DIFFERENT legends, who coincidentally enough? Happen to ALL BE THE SAME PERSON. Fucking Protagonist-chan.

They were from long standing ALLIES.

We could not AFFORD to lose those.

And the FOURTH message? Oh, THAT? That, was from his SON! Mr. "But Daddy! I Love her!" HIMSELF! He wants permission to marry the random woman of unknown province he found in the woods! Could be a foreign spy! Could be a mad woman. Who CARES right? They're SO in love~

Enough to START A WAR OVER IT.

I skip the tasting cups and instead? Bring his Majesty a bottle of the strongest star wine I can find. The sort that could damn near eat through rocks and vaporizes in air if you pour it out. Pain killers too, for what HAS to be a killer headache. Then I hesitate. You know what? Fuck it. I grab a cart. Make a care package.

Paper, ink, the STRONG tea, that special occasions tea (in case he needs a reason to remember his will to live), some snacks, a few shawls in case he decides to work late...

It's worth it, to see the way his stressed face relaxs when I return. Eyes softening, corner of his mouth curling up in that tiny, secret, little smile. We can get through this. We WILL get through this. I may not be able to stand by his side, but? I can support him. Help.

So long as HE sits in this office, burning himself down to keep this nation warm, so too, will I.

Tea or booze, your Majesty?

"A blend, I think. Unfortunately, I fear it is going to be a long night for us both." He replies. His voice smooth and low, effortlessly filling the room. A lifetime of public speaking, ingrained so very deep. "You should pour yourself a cup as well, my dear. Sleep will be a long time coming, we will need both the calm and the clarity."

I rolled my borrowed tea cart to the side and got to work. Strong tea and stronger star wine. Certainly a... flavor. Fairly certain such a thing should be illegal. Pretty sure our healers are going to be appalled. But, oh well. Needs, must. One for me, one for him.

He held out a hand. It was a sweeping gesture of his arm, a gentle turn of his wrist. I could never get used to his casual... elegance. The beauty of him. Like a living art work. A dancer. As though he were an actor, striking a pose, about to consider the soul of the simple tea cup. I handed it over, gently and with as much elegance as I could.

It still felt clumsy in comparison.

Yet he still smiled, just slightly. In that way I had learned to spot. Tension dripping away from his shoulders like thawing ice. Running in little rivers like melt waters, as he sat back in his chair, half turning it to face me. A brief moment to relax. Before work begins again.

"Ah... completely vile. Thank you, dear. It's disgusting." He said dryly, catching me off gaurd, and making me damn near snort into my cup. "If it did not work so well? I would never consume this swill again. What a perfect waste of tea and wine. We should invite Yevault."

I laugh. A snirking, snorting, choked little thing into my cup. God, but I've been TRYING to laugh more elegantly. Hell, I've even practiced. But when he catches me off gaurd? I swear to God, I cackle and pop. Like some sort of deranged witch pig. Ow, my sinuses.

"Oh but that's right, Yevault is a healer, on the occasions he takes time from being an unbearable snob. He might actually make us rest, dear. Then where would we be?" His Majesty muses, taking another sip before grimacing at the taste.

I go to respond. Probably some quip about "preferably in bed" or "asleep". Only... only to find my tounge sluggish. My exhaustion mounting, not slipping away. The world has begun to sway. Just a little at first, then notable. My mouth... fuzzy? Prickly. W...what?

His Majesty has begun to frown. Delicately setting down his cup... cup? Something about... a cup... I have taken too long to respond. He rises. Strides in a few, urgent, steps over to where I lean. Against the edge of my assistants desk. Swaying~ swaying~ w-why is the ground... my tounge feels to big. Think? I've begone to drool?

Warm, big hands cup my face. Was slipping forward, to the side. Gonna fall? Not anymore. Up. Hi! Is the king. Hi King. I... I don't feel so good...

His eyes have gone focused and cold. Pretty. Crown begins to glow. Leaves. Gold and gold, a halo of light. From within and beyond him. Power of the throne. Oh... oh I was here before, wasn't I? My bones remember. Like the roots to his great tree, power seeping deeper and deeper into my body, finding imperfections to consume. So... so much LIGHT.

I can not look away.

"Poison, was it? How terribly banal. Do they think me so simple to kill?" There is scorn in his voice. Utter distain. But deep beneath, like the hidden embers of a forest fire, there is rage. "How dare they drag you into this. Bad enough they throw a FIT over some trouble making tart, now they get the innocent involved? What if I had not been paying attention? Or you had taken that tea where I could not see it? Unacceptable."

Like spreading branches, like antlers, the light spread. The hands on my face gentle even as his Majesty's face might as well have been carved from stone. I tried to protest, swallowing thinking past the still rolling nausea. It was my fault! The tasting cups exsist for a REASON. They're supposed to test for things like this. I got too comfortable.

"No." The word slammed down as about an absolute as any sentence CAN. A declaration from on high. The commandment of a king. "It takes far more then simple poisons or common blades to kill me. The power that flows through the Throne insures it. You do not have that luxury. You could have DIED."

"....might still yet."

The last bit, almost a confession, pressed to my brow as he leaned down to press his lips to my forhead. His grip tighter, as though to stop his hands from shaking. My joints were starting to hurt, like I had a nasty cold, and I was already starting to feel feverish. I was starting to drip sweat. Shit.

I tried to stay calm. But... but I was scared. What do I do? Your Majesty! What do I DO?!

"We are going back to my quarters. Work can be brought to me. You need to lay down." He decided after a long moment of deliberation. Something had shifted in his eyes. I couldn't make heads or tails of it. Clung to the only trustworthy source of comfort I knew, in the chaos of this moment. "I'm going to take care of you. I have you, dear. Just trust me, darling. I will fix this. I swear it. You don't have to worry about a thing. Just put all of your trust in me, all right?

"Just come with me, dear. Everything will be all right."

"You can trust me."

#threepandas #yandere #yandere x reader #yanblr #reader insert #yanderecore #yandere otome isekai #yandere otome #royal yandere #oblivious reader #yandere sees his chance and takes it #he had a ten year plan #but this works too #tw poison #bad end poisoned cups #bad end poisoned cups au

224 notes · View notes

sushiyuzu · 4 months ago

Note

Hiii, I was wondering if you could make smth with a fem-reader who gets super angry, like destructive when mad bcus she lacks self-control rlly bad (for me I'm mentally ill lol) so when she gets mad her s/o usually walks in to her room destroyed with a crying reader in the corner, especially when she hasn't been taking her meds it ends up like that, and can you do this with Megumi, Yuta, and Sukuna

a safe comfort 🤍

a/n: thank you so much for trusting me with this request! it was my second time receiving and writing a fanfic request, and i truly appreciate the support! please remember to take care of yourself, especially if you're struggling with mental health—your well-being is so important! <3

warning: this story includes themes of mental illness, destructive behavior, and emotional distress. please proceed with caution.

megumi fushiguro

it starts as a small thing, the kind of annoyance you’d usually brush off. but today, something feels different. it’s as if the tension has been building for days, winding tighter and tighter until finally—something snaps. and when it does, you can’t stop yourself.

your hands are trembling as you shove the lamp off your nightstand, the crash of broken glass loud in your ears. the sound echoes in your head, but it doesn’t register—not really. you’re already grabbing at the books on your desk, hurling them across the room as frustration wells up inside you, fierce and unrelenting.

the anger takes over everything. it’s all-consuming, suffocating, like a weight on your chest you can’t escape. and when it’s over, when the room lies in ruins around you, you’re left standing in the middle of it all, gasping for air, your hands still shaking as the reality of what you’ve done hits you.

you drop to the floor, curling into yourself, the tears coming fast and hard. shame burns deep in your chest, the guilt crushing you as you try to breathe through it. you don’t want to be like this—you don’t want to be the person who destroys everything.

you don’t even notice when megumi walks in. he’s always quiet like that, slipping into your space without making a sound. but you know he’s there when you hear his voice—soft, steady, calm.

“hey,” he murmurs, and the sound is so gentle it makes your chest ache. “it’s okay.”

you can’t bring yourself to look up at him, too ashamed of what he must be seeing. you’re a mess. the room’s a mess. but megumi doesn’t seem to care. he steps carefully around the broken glass, the scattered papers, and kneels down beside you without a word.

for a long moment, he doesn’t say anything, just sits there with you, his presence grounding you in a way that nothing else can. his hand hovers near your shoulder, not quite touching, as if he’s waiting for permission to get closer.

“i’m not going anywhere,” he says softly, his voice filled with quiet reassurance.

you finally lift your head, and the moment your eyes meet his, the tears come faster, harder. you choke on a sob, unable to hold it back any longer, but megumi’s arms are around you before you can even process it. he pulls you into his chest, holding you close, and for a second, you forget about the wreckage around you.

his grip is firm but gentle, his hand running through your hair in soothing strokes. he’s not one to overwhelm you with words—megumi knows that sometimes silence speaks louder. instead, he just holds you, letting you cry against him, offering a quiet strength you can lean on without fear.

“we’ll figure it out,” he says after a while, his voice steady, like a promise. “whatever it is, we’ll deal with it together.”

you know he means it. with megumi, there are no empty promises. just the quiet certainty that no matter how bad things get, he’s going to stay by your side. and somehow, that makes it a little easier to breathe.

the minutes stretch into what feels like hours as you sink into his embrace. with every ragged breath, you can feel the tension start to dissolve. megumi’s warmth envelops you, a safe haven amidst the storm of emotions raging inside.

as the tears slow, you begin to notice the little things—how his heartbeat thrums steadily against your ear, the scent of his cologne lingering in the air, the gentle way he holds you as if you’re something precious. it’s a comfort that seeps into your bones, reminding you that you’re not alone in this chaos.

“i know it feels overwhelming right now,” he says, his voice low and soothing, “but it doesn’t define you. you’re stronger than this moment.”

you nod against him, trying to internalize his words, but the guilt still lingers like a shadow. “i don’t want to be like this,” you whisper, your voice muffled against his shirt.

“i know,” he replies, pulling back slightly to look you in the eye. there’s a determination in his gaze, a fierce protectiveness that makes your heart swell. “and you’re not. we’ll find a way to help you. just take it one step at a time.”

he wipes away the tears on your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, his touch featherlight yet grounding. in his gaze, you see understanding—an unspoken agreement that you don’t have to carry this burden alone. with megumi beside you, it’s easier to believe that healing is possible, that you can face whatever darkness lies ahead.

as you sit there, the room still in disarray, you realize it’s okay to be broken. it’s okay to ask for help. because with megumi by your side, you know you have a safe space to fall apart and rebuild. you’re not just a collection of shattered pieces; you’re a person, and that person deserves love and understanding—even in the midst of chaos.

“thank you,” you murmur, feeling a glimmer of hope rise within you.

“always,” he replies, a soft smile breaking through the worry etched on his face. “now, let’s clean this up together, okay?”

you nod, and for the first time in a long while, you feel like maybe, just maybe, you can find your way back to yourself.

yuta okkotsu

the anger hits you like a tidal wave, sudden and overwhelming, and before you know it, everything around you is falling apart. you’ve tried to hold it back—tried so hard—but the frustration is too much. your hands move on their own, knocking over anything within reach, the sounds of things crashing to the floor blending together in a chaotic blur.

you don’t realize how far you’ve gone until the room is a disaster—books torn from the shelves, clothes scattered across the floor, furniture tipped over in your frenzy. it’s only when the last bit of anger burns out that you see the mess you’ve made, and with it comes the crushing guilt. the shame.

you collapse to the floor, pressing your palms to your face, hiding from the destruction you’ve caused. your heart races in your chest, your breathing uneven as the tears come, slow at first, then uncontrollable.

you don’t hear the door open, don’t realize yuta’s standing there until you feel a presence near you. when he speaks, his voice is so soft, so filled with concern, it breaks your heart.

“hey,” he calls your name gently, kneeling in front of you. “what happened?”

you can’t answer him, can’t even look at him. the shame is too much. you’ve done this again—let yourself lose control, let everything spiral. yuta doesn’t push you for answers, though. he just watches you for a moment, waiting for the right time to step in.

“it’s okay,” he whispers after a while, reaching out carefully, his hand brushing against your arm in a tentative gesture. “i’m not mad. i’m just... worried.”

his words hit you in a way you didn’t expect, and before you know it, you’re falling into him. yuta catches you easily, pulling you close to his chest, his arms wrapping around you protectively. he’s warm, gentle, his hands soothing as he rubs slow circles against your back.

“we’ll get through this,” he murmurs against your hair, his voice steady. “whatever’s going on... we’ll handle it together.”

his embrace is firm, but never overwhelming. he holds you just tightly enough to make you feel safe, his chin resting on the top of your head as he lets you cry into his shoulder. yuta’s always been like this—soft, gentle, never pushing too hard but always there when you need him most.

“you don’t have to be afraid of this,” he adds, his voice low. “we’ll take it one step at a time, okay?”

you nod against him, even though you still feel the weight of your emotions pressing down on you. but with yuta’s arms around you, the world feels just a little bit less overwhelming.

as you pull away slightly, just enough to see his face, you can’t help but notice the concern etched in his features. his eyes search yours, looking for any sign of reassurance. “you didn’t have to hide this from me,” he says softly, brushing a thumb across your cheek, wiping away a tear that has slipped free. “i’m here for you, no matter what.”

the sincerity in his voice ignites something inside you—a flicker of hope amidst the storm of despair. “i just... don’t want to be like this,” you admit, your voice trembling. “i don’t want to keep losing control.”

“it’s okay to feel angry sometimes,” he reassures, his expression unwavering. “but you’re not alone in this. you don’t have to handle everything on your own.”

you take a deep breath, allowing his words to wash over you. it’s a reminder that while this moment feels insurmountable, it doesn’t define you. yuta doesn’t judge you for the chaos you’ve created; instead, he’s offering a lifeline, a way to navigate through the darkness together.

“let’s clean this up,” he suggests, pulling back just enough to look you in the eyes. “but first, can we take a minute? just to breathe?”

you nod again, grateful for his understanding. yuta guides you back to the corner of the room where it feels a bit safer, sitting beside you on the floor amidst the wreckage. he takes a moment to simply breathe with you, matching his inhale and exhale to yours. in those shared breaths, you can feel the tension begin to ease, even if just a little.

“you’re strong, you know,” he says softly, looking at you with such intensity that it warms your heart. “even when it feels like everything’s falling apart, you’re still standing here. that means something.”

his words wrap around you like a warm blanket, grounding you further. you manage a small smile, a flicker of gratitude in your chest. “thank you for being here.”

“always,” he replies, the sincerity in his voice bringing a sense of comfort. “let’s start with one thing at a time. how about we pick up the books first?”

you both begin to clear the room together, moving through the remnants of your outburst. with each item you return to its place, you feel a little more in control, a little less lost. yuta’s presence is steady by your side, and as he laughs softly at the absurdity of some of the mess, you can’t help but join him.

“what a tornado you’ve created,” he teases gently, picking up a shirt and throwing it playfully at you. “it looks like a fashion disaster.”

“hey! don’t make fun of my style,” you retort, a laugh bubbling up despite the heaviness of earlier. the sound feels good, like a small victory over the lingering despair.

“i’d never!” he exclaims, mock-indignant. “your style is unique, and it needs to be respected.”

as you work together, the atmosphere shifts. the heaviness that had settled in your chest begins to lift, and with yuta’s playful banter, you start to find a lightness you thought was lost. you realize that even in moments of chaos, you can create something beautiful—like the bond you share with him.

once the room is tidied up, yuta turns to you, his expression serious again. “remember, it’s okay to ask for help. i’m just a call away, and you don’t have to face anything alone.”

you look at him, your heart swelling with gratitude. “i really appreciate you, yuta. for everything.”

“anytime,” he replies, reaching for your hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “let’s take care of each other, okay?”

as you sit together in the aftermath of the storm, you know that with yuta by your side, you’ll find a way through whatever challenges lie ahead. the world feels just a little bit less daunting, and that’s more than enough for now.

ryomen sukuna

it happens fast—too fast for you to stop it. one moment, you’re pacing around the room, frustration boiling inside you like a pressure cooker, and the next, your hands are smashing into everything within reach. you’ve never been able to control it, this anger that builds and builds until it spills over, consuming everything in its path.

furniture crashes to the floor, papers scatter across the room, and the sound of breaking glass rings in your ears. you’ve wrecked the place, torn it apart with your bare hands, and now, standing in the aftermath, all you can feel is the hollow emptiness left behind.

your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, tears blurring your vision as the weight of what you’ve done settles in. you sink down to the floor, curling in on yourself, the world around you too much to handle. the anger is gone now, but the shame remains, thick and suffocating.

then you hear him—sukuna. his voice cuts through the silence like a knife, sharp and unmistakable.

“well, well,” he drawls, his tone laced with amusement. “look at the mess you’ve made.”

you flinch, expecting the worst, but when sukuna steps into the room, there’s no mockery in his eyes. he surveys the damage with a raised brow, but instead of berating you, he simply smirks, as if he finds the whole thing more fascinating than anything else.

“you always did have a flair for destruction,” he says, his voice low and smooth. “but this... this is something else.”

you don’t respond. you can’t. the shame is too heavy, too overwhelming, and the last thing you want is for him to see you like this. but sukuna doesn’t leave. instead, he walks over to you, his boots crunching against the broken glass, and crouches down in front of you.

he tilts his head, his red eyes gleaming with something almost like curiosity. “are you done?”

you nod, though it’s barely a movement. your throat is tight, your eyes stinging with unshed tears, and sukuna just watches you for a moment longer before sighing. without another word, he reaches out and pulls you into his arms, not caring about the mess around him.

you’re too tired to resist, too worn out to push him away, and sukuna just holds you there, his grip firm but not painful. there’s a warmth to him, a strange sort of comfort in the way he wraps his arms around you, despite his usual roughness.

“you’re a disaster,” he mutters, his tone teasing but not unkind. “but i suppose you’re my disaster.”

you don’t know why, but his words make the tears come harder, and before you know it, you’re sobbing against his chest, your body trembling with the force of it. sukuna doesn’t shush you or tell you to stop. he just lets you cry, his hand resting on the back of your head, his fingers gently tangling in your hair.

“let it out,” he says, his voice soft now, quieter than you’ve ever heard it before. “you’ll feel better after.”

and somehow, with him holding you, the world feels just a little bit less chaotic. sukuna may not be gentle, but in this moment, he’s exactly what you need. the weight of his arms around you, solid and unyielding, keeps you anchored, keeps you from spiraling any further.

he’s not one for soft reassurances or whispered comforts, but his presence alone is enough to ground you. he lets you break down in his arms, lets you be vulnerable without judgment or impatience. there’s something oddly calming about it—being in the presence of someone so powerful, so utterly in control, when you feel like your world is falling apart.

after a long while, when your sobs finally subside, sukuna pulls back slightly. he tilts your chin up with two fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze. his red eyes bore into yours, sharp and unwavering.

“feel better?” he asks, his voice low, his expression unreadable.

you nod, not trusting your voice to speak. he studies you for a moment longer before he lets go of your chin, standing up and brushing some debris off his clothes as if none of this bothered him in the slightest.

“next time,” he says, his tone casual, as if offering advice on something trivial, “try not to destroy everything. or at least wait until i’m around to enjoy the show.”

there’s a teasing lilt to his words, and despite yourself, despite everything, a small, tired smile tugs at the corners of your lips.

“come on,” sukuna says, offering you his hand to help you up. “let’s get out of here. you need to clear your head.”

you hesitate for only a moment before taking his hand, and he pulls you up effortlessly. as he leads you out of the wreckage of your room, there’s a strange comfort in knowing that, for all his arrogance and rough edges, sukuna’s still here—still willing to stay by your side, no matter how many times you break.

and somehow, with him, that’s enough.

184 notes · View notes

bitterrfruit · 4 months ago

Text

he wakes you up

waking up hungover after letting a cocky scottish stranger spend the night. indie sleaze!Soap x reader, no cw. 1.4k words, mdni an: never posted a part 2 to my old fic trainspotting, but i wrote a good chunk of it. sleazy brow ring johnny is still close to my heart so i thought i'd share a bit of it <3

You wake up slowly, sweatily, mouth dry and fuzzy like you had swallowed a lump of cotton – so delirious, for a moment, that you expect to hear your mother calling for you to hurry up or you’ll miss the bus.

No, instead, you hear the sparkling white noise of running water. Can’t be rain, because the sun beams brightly through your open window – directly onto your face, blinding you, sending you spinning as you tug your thin pillow and hold it over your head to shield yourself.

Groaning, your brain throbs swollen and heavy, your skull an iron vice. You force yourself to sit upright, hoping your feet on the ground will calm the swelling nausea, turbulent in the pit of your stomach. It doesn’t.

Bathroom. Bathroom.

You leap out of bed, sprinting to the door of the Jack-and-Jill bathroom that separates your and Katie’s bedrooms. Throwing it open, you tumble to the toilet, hair unfortunately coating the toilet seat as your abdomen lurches noisily – tossing a pitiful spoonful of pink, cherry-flavoured vomit into the clear water with a foul splash. Ew.

The shower is running, you realise, in the subsequent post-puke calm. You would have expected Katie to say something to your intrusion, but after a year of living together you have very few boundaries left. You wonder what time she might’ve come home during the night – suppose the bloke she went home with must have been a disappointment if she didn’t even stay till morning. No surprises there.

You hear the thud of the shower lever and the water shuts off. After a few deep breaths, you build up the strength to apologise for barging in, sitting on your knees on the tiled floor.

“Sorry – hic – couldn’t hold it in,” you burp, rubbing your forehead, tearing off a piece of loo paper to wipe your nose. “How was–”

“Mornin’, hen,” comes the low voice of a man, tired and gravelly. “How ye feelin’?”

Not fucking Katie.

You cock your head back in shock, swiping your matted hair from your face, as your eyes shoot to the polyester shower curtain being tugged open with a screech.

Hairy legs jut out from the cubicle, big feet land on the shaggy bathmat. Your eyes follow them upward, thick thighs, rippling muscle under a layer of flesh and furry skin. Until your stare hitches on the cock hanging brazenly from a fine carpet of brown curls – thick from base to tip, uncircumcised but its meaty pink head exposed, a hefty vein running down the length of it. Looks heavy even soft.

You choke on any words you might be able to utter – jumping from shock, to fear, to awe, back to confusion. Who…

“Eyes up here, bunny.” He teases you, that gruff voice barely familiar.

A response suddenly comes to you, remembering it vaguely, and your lips form the words as if it were a realisation.

“They’re just as pretty,” you croak, staring into the void of space before you finally glance at the man’s face.

The shaven head, the brow ring, the glint of that golden tooth sparkling from the cocky smile that puckers dimples into his cheeks – now, yes, you somewhat remember him.

“Ah, good. Y’do remember.”

Suddenly humiliated, realising how much of a fucking mess you must be – you look down at yourself, seeing your vastly oversized Strokes band tee that you do not remember putting on. Nor do you remember getting out of the miniscule body suit you had worn to the party, nor peeling off the fishnets that had been flossing you from front to back for the duration of the blurry evening.

There’s probably makeup smudged into racoon-like circles around your eyes, there must be smears of your pink lip-gloss in the corners of your mouth. If you weren't so ill, you'd run and hide from him.

“Did I-” you stammer aloud, attempting to connect the dots. “Were you at the party?”

He tuts, huffing disappointedly, as he reaches for the yellow floral towel hanging on the rail. Katie’s towel.

“Och, dear,” he grunts facetiously, as he rubs it vigorously over his head, patting under his chin, chest, arms. Doesn’t seem to bother asking as he uses it to dry his balls, mammoth dick flopping around shamelessly as he does so. Your cheeks burn pink.

“You weren’t?”

“If I’m honest, hen,” he remarks, as he ties the towel nonchalantly around his hips, tucks it in just above his mound. Still brandishes that happy trail, and the sharp angled creases below his abs that carve from his hips to his cock. “Ye got me feelin’ a bit guilty.”

“Why?” You swallow, doing your best to stop ogling him like a little animal. “Did we…”

He snorts. “You wish.”

You frown, suddenly failing to suppress the admonishing smirk that curls in your lips. “We didn’t do anything?”

He shrugs, rubbing the top of his buzzed head with his palm. “We had a wee bit o’fun,” he admits, a twinge of shame in his rumbling throat, “but no, nothing too regrettable.”

You find yourself weirdly disappointed. “Why not?”

And your slightly dissatisfied query seems to lift some weight from his shoulders, he returns with a grin. “You were a bit steamed, hen,” he says. “would’ve been dodgy of me to stick it in ye while y’were like that, eh?”

“Mm,” you nod, concealing your chagrin, the memory of running into him on the road suddenly flies back to you, colliding with you like a slap.

A complete stranger. Naked (mostly) in your bathroom.

“Didn’t expect you’d be such a gentleman,” you gripe, a tad facetious.

He smiles. “Disappointed, are ye?” He jibes, tilting his head. “Y’were definitely disappointed last night. Poor wee thing. Got all whiney.”

You flush hot as that memory slithers back to you, too. Cheeks aren’t the only thing that burn at the thought. You suddenly harken back to the weight of his palm on your cunt, the mocking pressure of the heel of his palm grinding against your clit. Your stomach drops at the memory.

“Did not,” you murmur.

“Uh-huh,” he chuckles at you, sauntering in your direction, he holds out a hand for you. You smile bashfully as you take it, and he lifts you to your feet so deftly you’re almost lifted into the air. “Feelin’ alright?”

You’re a little dizzy after standing so quick, you blink heavily as you swallow. “Mm. Been better,” you huff, “I probably look like shit.”

He frowns at that, tutting in disapproval as his raffish eyes linger on your lips – you lick them, worried there might be a speck of residual puke in the corner of your mouth.

“Ye’re havin’ me on,” he chides, disapproval in his tone.

“Am I?” You groan, wiping under your eyes with your fingertips in the hopes of swiping away some running makeup.

He shakes his head. “Far too pretty to be talkin’ like that, bunny.”

With a grimace, then a snicker, you glance downward at the chipped pink glitter on your toenails. “That’s nice, but–”

“Psh,” he immediately cuts you off. “Don’t y’believe me?”

Reeling in awkward embarrassment, you cross your arms, digging nails into your biceps as you look everywhere but him. Through a strained chuckle, you answer, “Not really.”

His attention is almost intimidating; an unwavering, low-lidded glare as a smirk tugs in his lips. Tucks a hooked finger under your chin, coaxing your head to lift just slightly enough to look along your nose at him.

From his throat, he rumbles,

“Need me to show ye how pretty y’are, hen?”

Your skin turns molten, glowing and pliant, eyes glossy and eager as you stare up at him through clumped lashes. He simply wears that snide little grin, proud of himself, only growing prouder as he notices how flustered he’s made you. Fuck!

Lips part to let words free but they turn sticky on your tongue, and he brushes your chin with his thumb.

“Look at’cha,” he sneers, letting go of your face; using the tip of his thick finger to sweep a rogue hair from your forehead with a gentleness that you’re earnestly surprised he’s capable of. His tenderness is fleeting, though, because he chuckles; “Too easy.”

Jaw agape, you only laugh as you cover your eyes with your palms. “God, you’re such a dickhead.”

He hums, a giggle, swaggering around you before swinging a quick smack on your ass, making you yip – casual and in passing, such a brash show of lude badinage that you can only gawk at him as he wanders into your room.

“S’why you invited me in, in’t it?”

Crossing your arms, you follow him sheepishly, squinting as you step into morning sunlight. “I don’t think I can remember why I invited you in, to be honest.”

“Mm, well,” he grumbles, “I’ll have t’remind ye, won’t I?”

#love u cocky boy #john soap mctavish x reader #cod smut #call of duty fanfic #soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish smut #soap x reader

197 notes · View notes

hsangel64 · 12 days ago

Text

࿔📚*:･ crushing on the teacher ࿔📚*:･

pairings: abby anderson x fem teacher! reader

synopsis: reader is a teacher in the WLF and abby loves learning

warnings: mostly fluff a small amount of freaky-

a/n: let me know how you guys like this one!!

pt 2 !

abby never realized she could like someone so much, i mean she was head over heels. all she could think about was you, where you were, what you were doing, just about anything. manny always made fun of her for asking about you. the only problem was she was a stuttering mess or she talked too much around you. everyone knew her for her strength and she was intimidating really, but there was just something about you that she really didn’t know how to speak. she had a routine every day you worked, she woke up early and made you lunch to bring to you, every single day you were teaching, literally everyday. she’s that head over heels. today like no other she’s up by 6 am doing her morning routine, getting dressed and refreshed and then grabbing what she had to make you lunch. what abby didn’t know was that you always looked forward to seeing her, you thought it was super cute that she brings you lunch every day. every morning you made sure you looked your best, with the makeup you did have and the very few skirts you had that you could tell abby loved. you loved how she gets with you.

abby packed it up in a small paper bag and started to make her way to your classroom. you were in your classroom by 7am setting up for the day and abby was there right after to drop your lunch off. as she was walking to your classroom manny stopped her.

“hey abs, off to your girlfriends classroom?” she rolled her eyes at him, he always had something to say about this…relationship.

“shes not my girlfriend shut up manny.” he laughed and abby started to walk away from him.

“hey wait abs!” she scoffed irritated at the fact that he was going to make her late. she didn’t want to make you wait on her.

“what manny.”

“ooo feisty.” abby stared at him plainly waiting for what he wanted in the first place.

“am i gonna make you late?” she started to walk away again and heard him cackle laugh behind her.

“issac wants us at the FOB!!! don’t be late!!” he yelled and continued to laugh all the way down the hall. abby sped walked down the hall right to your class and right on time. she sees you at the white board writing down your lesson plan, abby takes a second to breathe before walking up to your door and knocking. she heard footsteps approaching and the door opened, today you had on something new that she didn’t recognize. you had a big sweater on with some tights and a black skirt on, she felt the lump in her throat and almost comical sweat drop appearing on her forehead.

“hey abs!” you greeted her and walked inside the class asking her to close the door on the way in. you guys had been doing this for what felt like forever now, you figured abby might ask you on a date by now but she hadn’t so you felt like you had to take it into your own hands, you were going to ask her today. little did you know she was thinking of doing the same thing. you walked back to your desk and abby came and sat at the seat you had by your desk. she handed you the small bag with your lunch in it and you thanked her.

“so what’s your lesson plan today?” abby shifted in her seat nervously, trying to find the right time to ask you.

“since it is friday i have something light for the kids, we have some art activities, a math worksheet and a movie!” she nodded and watched as you got your papers ready to put on each desk.

“you wanna put these on their desks for me?”

“oh uh ye-yeah.” she cursed herself for stuttering, she was trying to figure out a way to start to ask you.

“so-“ you both said at the same time.

“you go- no u-“ you both said and then laughed, you gestured abby to go and she nodded.

“um do you have anything planned tomorrow?”

“i don’t think so! i just have some stuff to grade and then ill be in my room the whole day basically. my rest day, why what’s up!”

“well- well i was wondering…wondering if you’d want to maybe…” she couldn’t find the right words, they just weren’t coming out.

“go on a date with you?” abby looked surprised, how did you know-

“earth to abby?” she shook her head and didnt even realize she was staring at the ground having to pick her head up to look at you.

“oh um ye-yeah, go out with me?” what an idiot, she shook her head at her response. you giggled at her and made your way over to where she stood. grabbing the side of her arm, you caressed it gently.

“of course ill go out with you abs. just let me know what time and where you want me.” you went onto your tip toes and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek, her face went red at the affection and was stuttering like crazy.

“now go get my kids outside.” you stopped for a second as you were walking away and walked back. you grabbed both her arms and put them around you.

“be safe out there okay abs, for me?” bringing out all the stops, your voice being soft, puppy dog eyes, and you’re touching her. the room was so quiet you could hear her gulps.

“of course yeah yeah, ill be- ill be safe.” you were very close to her lips feeling her breathing quicken.

“ill see you tomorrow abs.” you whispered and walked back to your desk, her face was red and she quickly went and let the kids inside.

abby was like a deer in headlights, she couldn’t believe you wanted to go out with her, and you getting close to her basically kissing her?! she knew you’d be the death of her. as abby was walking out and trying to control the feeling she felt one of the kids asked her a question.

“ms. abby why are you always here to see mrs.l/n?” she was stunned by the question.

“yeah ms. abby why are you here all the time?” before she could respond another kid yelled from a bit away.

“i heard she likes her!” all she could hear were ‘ooos’ she rolled her eyes, how do these kids know this shit.

“who told you that?” abby asked wondering who opened there damn mouth.

“manny told me so!! she likes ms.l/n!!”

“oh shut up.”

“no you shut up!’

“no you!” that went on for a little bit until you came back over and stopped their bickering.

“hey its time for class lets go, leave abby alone guys!” they all said ‘awe’ but listened nonetheless. you winked at abby and closed the door waving through the glass. abby waved back and made her way to the cafeteria to eat and head off to her assignment. tomorrow should be fun.

———————————————————————————

a/n: i kinda want this to be two parts so if anyone wants it please let me know!!

#abby tlou #abby x reader #abby the last of us #abby x you #abby anderson #abby x fem!reader #the last of us part 2

72 notes · View notes

maybeitsalivescribbles · 18 days ago

Text

Superpowers: a recap

You know, I often tend to skip superpowers under the rug when I write my snippets- which is kind of a problem in a Hero/Villain setting.

So this is a recap to help me remember the possibilities, in case it can help anyone else:

LIST OF POWERS

Classical set

Super strength

Super endurance

Super speed

Telekinesis

Teleportation

Forcefields

Laser eyes (classical because of Superman, but I still think this is bonkers)

Immune to superpowers/elements/illness/etc

Flight

Healing (themself or others)

Can speak to animals/plants

Hypnotism

Immortality

Wish-granting

Astral projection

Miscellaneous

Can steal power from others (forever or it’s temporary)

Has non-human animal anatomy (reptilian scales, horns, produces poison, etc)

Can break into parts and reassemble

Can make clone(s) of themself

Immune to gravity (the fall doesn’t kill you, can jump as high as you like, can crawl on walls, etc)

Super instinct (can sense when something’s wrong, when someone is lying)

Can control fibers/clothes

Can create portals to anywhere else

Control of one single type of object (doors, trains, cars, paper, etc)

Control anything made by humans

Music powers

Can force everyone to dance

Can control voices/can take voices away

Can control volume of any sound

Charm people when they play an instrument/sing

Can summon music whenever they like

They get an upgrade (super strength, etc) every time there’s music

Elemental/Nature powers

Can control fire/ashes

Can control electricity

Can control water/ice

Can control plasma

Can control air/wind/gazes

Can control earth/magma

Can control metal

Can control light/shadows/colors

Can walk on water/wind/lava/rainbows

Can breathe underwater/in space

Can burrow into earth

Can control temperature

Can control the weather

Control of life forms

Can control humans

Can control beasts

Can control plants

Can control...mushrooms, I guess ?

Can control viruses and bacteria

Can control blood

Everything they touch die

Everything they touch come back to life

Can accelerate/slow down aging

=> is the life form conscious while under control ? Can they fight back? Do they have to be okay with it?

Sense powers

(Reminder: human senses are hearing, vision, touch, taste, smell, vestibular)

Better senses (better sight, better hearing, etc)

X-ray vision

Can see every place they like or eavesdrop everywhere

Can manipulate the senses of others (can heighten them or cancel them)

Can inflict pain

Emotions

Their sheer presence induces an emotion (fear, love, etc)

Can force to feel an emotion/heighten or dull emotions

Can project their own emotions into others

Empathy (they feel the emotions of others)

Shapeshifter

Can reduce/aggrandize their size

Can seem much older or younger

Intangibility

Invisibility

Strechability

Can take the form of another thing/person

Can take the form of any human

Can take the form of anything (animal/plant/object/liquid/gas/etc)

Reverse Shapeshifter: can transform others into an animal/stone/plant/anything

Mindpower

telepathy

illusions

possession/mind control

can mess with memory

can mess with dreams

Time powers

Can time travel (future/past)

Can froze time

Can predict the future/see the past

Oh now that's just cheating

Reality wrapper

Luck

Everything they create becomes real

Can choose any superpower they want according to the situation

GENERAL QUESTIONS

Is the character okay with their power ?

they hate it it’s a curse to them

they wish it were different (stronger, another power altogether, etc)

they don’t mind

they really enjoy it

it’s their whole identity

Etc.

If they hate it, is it because:

it hurts

it could hurt someone/something else

it’s useless/ it’s not offensive

it goes against their personality

people hate it too

it makes people treating them as a tool

Can they control it?

they’re a walking disaster

using it makes them sick

perfect control, natural or learned

they don’t even need to think about it

etc

How powerful it is?

(Ex control of fire: can barely light a match versus can set in fire the whole country)

Characters with weak powers my beloveds. It's about them fighting when they know they will lose, putting everything they have in the fight, keeping their head high when people sneer at them. It's about them enjoying their power without having it to be useful, or forcing them to be creative and smart about/around it.

Overpowered characters my beloveds. It's not about them winning the fight because the answer is obvious, it's about them dealing with too much power in a fragile world, the gap between them and the others, how it impacts their relationships, their morality - never hesitate to make a character like this. It can be terrifying, it can be hilarious, it can be great. No trope is bad, it all depends on how it's used.

What is the source of their power ?

failed experiment?

successful experiment?

got them from a supernatural being?

got them from their family?

got them from a magical object?

When did they get it ?

when born?

during childhood ? Teen years ?

grown-up ?

Was it expected or not?

Is getting this power a one time thing or to they need to renew it ?

(via sacrifice, offering, a special food/medicine, a good/bad deed, etc)

Can they give it to someone else?

Can it go away/fade?

Does it grow stronger/weaker with age?

Is it affected by the health of the character ?

(Is the power weaker when the character is sick, or is it stronger as a defense measure ? Does it become unpredictable?)

Does it hurt using it/not using it?

(Because it takes too much on the body/because it forces to repress an important part of the self)

Does the power change their personality in a good/bad way?

(Does it corrupt them, does it force them to see the world in a new light, etc)

Can their power combine with someone else’s ?

Do they have a weakness/something that cancels their abilities?

Do they have special needs because of it ?

(Do they need glasses, headphones, medicine, a special diet, etc)

Are they immune to their own power or do they take damage ?

(Ex : is your character able to control fire is fireproof or not?)

How much do they rely on it?

they use them for everything

they use them often

they could do without

it’s barely an afterthought to them

they never use it

etc

How do they use it ?

Raising their hand

With their eyes

With some object

They don’t have to do anything

Etc

How does this power is perceived by the others?

This makes them a god

This makes them a star

This makes them totally mundane

This makes them look really stupid

This makes them a nuisance

This makes them someone to be killed at all costs

Etc.

About the suit

Is that for protection ?

Is it an uniform ?

Is it here for the vibe ?

Does it strengthen their abilities?

Does it have gadgets ?

How (im)practical is it ?

#hero x villain #hero villain community #writeblr #writers on tumblr #villain and hero #heroes and villains #hero and villain #writers #hero x villain community #writing community #hero and villain community #heroes and villains community #villain x hero #toolbox #not an exhaustive list by any means but you know...it's long enough

63 notes · View notes

bat-mom-writer · 4 months ago

Text

Sick Bat Bois

Reader(Mother) X Bat boys(Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian)

(I do not own any DC characters)

"Morning, Alfred," she said, her voice a gentle blend of sleepiness and concern.

"Good morning, Mrs. Wayne," Alfred Pennyworth replied from the kitchen, his British accent as steadfast as ever. "Has the young master settled down?"

The question hung in the air as she padded down the hallway, the scent of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the corridor. She nodded, though he couldn't see her from his position at the stove. "Damian's still asleep. The fever seems to have broken during the night."

Alfred turned, a look of relief etched into his stern features. "That's good news. Dr. Thompkins said it was nothing serious, but with Master Damian's… unique constitution, it's always best to be vigilant."

She couldn't help but smile at Alfred's careful wording. "Unique," indeed. Being the mother to the brood of vigilantes that Bruce had amassed over the years, she had seen her fair share of scrapes and bruises. But nothing quite compared to the challenges of raising Damian, the fiercely independent and stubborn son of Bruce Wayne. She had learned to navigate the complexities of being both a wife to Gotham's Dark Knight and a mother to his troubled heir.

Entering Damian's room, she found him nestled in a pile of blankets, his face flushed and damp with sweat. The digital thermometer on the bedside table read 99.5 degrees, a vast improvement from the 103 she had recorded the night before. He stirred slightly as she approached, his emerald eyes fluttering open to meet hers. "Mother," he murmured, his voice raspy.

Her heart ached at the sight of him so vulnerable. She sat on the edge of the bed and placed a cool hand on his forehead. "How are you feeling, darling?"

Damian grimaced, his eyes focusing with some effort. "Better," he croaked, then added with a touch of defiance, "I can train."

The woman chuckled softly, stroking his hair back from his face. "Not yet, tough guy. You need to rest and regain your strength."

Damian's eyes narrowed, his jaw set in a way that reminded her so much of his father. "But I have responsibilities," he protested weakly.

"And so do I," she replied, her tone firm but gentle. "And as the mother of this household, my responsibilities outrank yours. So for now, your job is to get well again."

The young boy's eyes searched hers, and she knew he was weighing his options. He was a Wayne, after all, and the urge to push through pain was ingrained in their very DNA. But he must have seen the resolve in her gaze because he eventually nodded, his body succumbing to the weight of his illness once more. She leaned over and kissed his forehead, feeling his skin still warm to the touch. "Rest," she whispered, pulling the covers up to his chin.

As she stepped out into the hallway, the quiet hum of Wayne Manor was a stark contrast to the chaos that often enveloped their lives. The polished floors reflected the soft glow of the early morning light, and the walls held the whispers of countless secrets and battles won. It was a sanctuary, a place where she could be both the wife of a legend and the mother to a group of boys who had all lost so much.

Bruce had left a note on the kitchen counter, informing her that he had to attend to some urgent business in the city. She sighed, folding the paper and placing it in her pocket. It was a constant balancing act, knowing when to be there for her family and when to give them space to be their alter-egos. But she had grown accustomed to the rhythm of their lives. The quiet moments at home were precious, especially when they were few and far between.

Her ears perked up at the sound of a cough coming from Dick's room. She glanced at the grandfather clock in the hallway. It was early, even for him. She knew that Dick had been pushing himself harder than ever since he had taken on the mantle of Nightwing again. Concerned, she made her way upstairs, her bare feet silent on the cold marble.

"Dick?" she called out softly, knocking on his door. "Are you okay?"

The sound of shuffling and then a muffled, "Yeah," floated back to her. But she knew him better than that.

Pushing open the door, she found Dick sitting up in bed, his chest moving in shallow, labored breaths. His eyes were red-rimmed and his nose was definitely stuffy. The room smelled faintly of menthol, a sign that he had been trying to ease his symptoms in secret. "You should've told us," she admonished, her hand instinctively reaching out to feel his forehead.

Dick flinched at her touch, his eyes flashing with embarrassment. "It's just a cold," he said, his voice thick with mucus. "I didn't want to worry anyone."

"Well, you've done a terrible job hiding it," she said with a smirk, her hand coming away warm. "You're just as stubborn as your father."

Dick sneezed, a loud explosion of sound that echoed through the cavernous room. "Well, not by blood," he quipped, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. She knew he was trying to play it off, but the truth was written all over his face: he was feeling terrible.

"You might as well be," she said, her voice warm and teasing. "You're just as stubborn as Bruce. And just like him, you refuse to admit when you're not invincible."

Dick rolled his eyes, but she could see the hint of a smile he was trying to suppress. "I'll be fine," he insisted, his voice a little too nasally for his own liking.

"Aha, no," she said, her voice firm yet filled with affection. "You're going to lay down and let me take care of you."

Dick opened his mouth to protest, but she silenced him with a stern look. "You're not going anywhere until you're better. Now, lay you butt down, mister."

With a dramatic sigh, he obeyed, and she set to work, bringing him a steaming cup of tea and a box of tissues. She could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the toll that fighting crime night after night was taking on his body. He was growing into a fine young man, strong and dedicated, but he was still her little bird, and she would always be there to take care of him.

"I hate you," Dick said with a groan, his voice thick with sleep and the beginnings of a whine. He took the tea with a sniffle, but didn't argue further.

"Love you too, little bird," she said, the warmth in her voice unmistakable.

Her next stop was Tim's room. She knocked lightly, hoping not to disturb him if he was still sleeping. But when she entered, she found him already dressed and packing his school bag.

"Tim, sweetie, are you okay?" she asked, her eyes scanning him for any signs of illness.

Tim looked up from his bag, his expression a mix of surprise and annoyance. "Why wouldn't I be?" he replied, a bit too quickly.

Her motherly instincts kicked in, and she stepped closer, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Just checking in," she said gently. "You've been so quiet lately, and with everyone else getting sick…"

Tim looked up at her, his eyes a mix of blue and gray, so much like Bruce's. "I'm fine," he said, his voice a little too firm for his own good. "Just have a lot on my mind."

She studied him, the furrowed brow and the way he avoided her gaze. "Is there something you'd like to talk about?"

"I'm good. Well, I better get going," Tim said quickly, hoisting his backpack onto his shoulders and making a move to leave the room. She could feel the tension in his shoulders as she lightly grabbed the strap of his backpack, halting his escape.

"Hold it, mister," she said firmly, her eyes searching his for the truth. She knew that look, that forced bravado that so many of her boys had learned from their father. Tim was hiding something, and she wasn't going to let him slip away without finding out what it was.

"What are you hidding, Tim?" she pressed, her voice a soft echo in the room.

Tim's eyes widened, his cheeks flushing a shade of pink. "Me? Hiding? I don't know what you're talking about," he replied, his voice a little too high-pitched for comfort.

But she wasn't fooled. She had seen that look before, the one that said 'I'm not okay, but I'm going to pretend I am.' She took a step closer, her hand on his forehead, and that's when it happened. His face drained of color, and without another word, he bolted towards the bathroom, his backpack swinging wildly behind him.

Her heart racing, she followed, calling out his name in concern. But it was too late. Tim barely made it to the toilet before he was violently ill, retching and heaving into the porcelain bowl. She rushed to his side, holding his hair back, feeling his clammy skin and the tremors in his body. The smell of bile filled the air, and she knew he wasn't fine. Not at all.

"It's okay, Tim," she murmured, her hand gentle on his back. "Let it out."

Tim's body convulsed a few more times before the heaving ceased. He leaned back against the cool porcelain, his eyes closed and his breathing ragged. "I'm fine."

"Fine my as-" She stops herself from cursing, taking a deep breath. "You're not fine. You're burning up," she said, her voice filled with both worry and frustration. "You can't go to school like this."

Tim's eyes snapped open, a mix of anger and defeat. "But I can't miss," he protested weakly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I have a test, and I can't-"

"Tim," she said firmly, her voice cutting through his protest. "You're not going anywhere until you're healthy. And that's an order."

Tim's shoulders slumped, and he nodded, defeat washing over him like a wave. She handed him a wet cloth and helped him clean up before guiding him back to bed. As she tucked him in, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness. Her boys, all of them, were so used to pushing through pain and hardship, to hiding their weaknesses. It was a lesson they had learned from Bruce, from the harsh reality of their lives as vigilantes. But it was a lesson she wished they didn't have to learn so young.

"I'm not very happy with you lying to me, Tim," she said, her voice carrying the weight of her disappointment.

Tim looked up at her, his eyes watering from the exertion of being sick. "I didn't mean to make you mad," he mumbled, his voice barely audible.

"I'm not mad," she assured him, her voice filled with a quiet intensity. "I'm just… disappointed."

Tim dramatically threw his arm over his eyes, groaning. "Oh no, she played the disappointment card."

The woman couldn't help but roll her eyes at his theatrics. "I'll never recover from this," he mumbled, his voice muffled by the blankets.

"Yes, you will," she said with a wry smile, tucking the edges around him snugly. "It's just the flu, Tim. You're not dying."

"No, from your disappointment." he groaned, his voice muffled by the blankets.

With a laugh, she rolled her eyes and tossed a pillow at him. "Someone needs to keep their strength up for when they're not fighting off supervillains," she teased. "Now, get some sleep, hot shot."

Tim's only response was a muffled grumble into his pillow. As she left the room, she couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. Despite the circumstances, her boys were strong, each in their own way.

But her thoughts were interrupted by a whine that grew into a clear call of "Mommy!" from Jason's room. She sighed, her maternal instincts already in overdrive. She had thought she had a moment's reprieve from the sickness sweeping through the manor, but apparently not.

Jason had always been the most dramatic when it came to being ill. He had probably picked it up from the numerous plays and musicals he had been a part of during his time away from Gotham. He had a flair for the dramatic that none of the other boys could quite match, and she had to admit, it was a little entertaining, even if it was a pain to deal with when she had three other boys to take care of.

The door to his room was flung open with a theatrical flair, revealing Jason sprawled out on his bed, his face contorted in an Oscar-worthy display of agony. "Mommy," he wailed, his voice a mix of a whine and a croak. "I'm dying."

The woman couldn't help but roll her eyes at the dramatics, but she knew better than to let on. "Oh no," she said with forced panic, "What seems to be the matter?"

"It's my throat," Jason rasped, his hand dramatically clutching his neck. "It feels like a cat is scratching its way out."

The woman couldn't help but chuckle at the vivid description, despite the seriousness of the situation. "Come on," she said, her voice filled with the same mix of exasperation and love she had used with the others. "Let's get you some tea and honey."

Jason shot her a glare that was less than menacing thanks to his red, watery eyes. "Do you not care that I'm dying, mother?" he rasped out dramatically, his voice a caricature of a Victorian-era consumptive.

"Jason," she said, her voice a mix of exasperation and affection, "you're not dying. You have a sore throat."

He flung his arm dramatically over his eyes. "Same difference," he croaked, his voice thick with feigned despair.

The woman couldn't help but laugh, shaking her head as she approached the bed. Despite the chaos of the morning, she was grateful for the moments of levity her boys brought to the tension that often surrounded them. "Drama queen," she murmured, pressing the back of her hand to his forehead. It was hot, but not as alarmingly so as Damian's had been.

"You're not fooling anyone," she said, her voice filled with affectionate teasing. "Now sit up, let's get some tea and medicine into you."

Jason's dramatics didn't waver as he allowed her to help him into a sitting position, his arms draped over her shoulders as if he were a feeble old man. She couldn't help but chuckle at his theatrics, even as she felt the tension in his body. She knew the pain was real, but his flair for the dramatic was something she had come to expect from him.

"Here," she said, handing him a steaming cup of tea with a spoonful of honey stirred in. "This should help."

Jason took a tentative sip, his expression morphing from one of suffering to one of pleasure at the sweet, soothing liquid sliding down his throat. "Mmm," he murmured, his eyes fluttering closed. "The elixir of life."

The woman couldn't help but laugh. "Keep that up and I might just leave you in charge of the sick ward," she teased, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Don't you dare," Dick called out from his room, his voice still nasal.

The woman looked up, surprised at his interjection. "What?" she said, raising an eyebrow.

"You know what," Dick said, his voice muffled by the tissues he was using to blow his nose. "If you leave me in the care of the drama king, I'm going to need an actual doctor."

"I have you know, I'd make a damn good doctor!" Jason retorted, his voice still hoarse but filled with a playful lilt. "I've had plenty of practice with my stage makeup skills. I can diagnose a fever from a mile away."

Without missing a beat, she smacked him lightly on the back of the head. "And I have you know," she said, her tone mock-stern, "that your bedside manner could use some serious work."

The sound of Jason's high-pitched whine pierced the air, a sound so ludicrous that it had even Damian cracking a smile from his sickbed.

"Why are you so cruel?" Jason exclaimed, rubbing his head dramatically. The woman couldn't help but chuckle.

"That is for your own good," she said, her tone playful despite the firmness in her words. "Now, let's get you some actual medicine, shall we?"

The day grew long as she tended to the boys, her quiet sanctuary transformed into a bustling infirmary. Damian's fever lingered, his eyes glazed over with fatigue and a stubbornness that mirrored his father's. Dick's cold clung to him with the tenacity of a cat burglar to a wall, and Tim's flu symptoms grew more pronounced with each passing hour. Jason, on the other hand, reveled in the attention, his theatrics never waning despite his sore throat.

In between doses of medicine and cups of tea, she tried to keep the mood light. They watched movies, played board games, and even managed to get a few laughs out of the situation. She knew that beneath the bravado and the jokes, her sons were worried about each other, about the city they felt responsible for, and about their father's secret life as Batman. But for now, they were just kids, sick and in need of care.

#bat family #batman #dc universe #damian wayne #tim drake #jason todd #dick grayson #dramtic jason #bruce's wife #bat mom #bruce wayne x mom reader

125 notes · View notes

bloodywankers · 2 years ago

Text

Trigger Warning! Yandere! Implied Non-Con! Forced Marriage! Forced Cultural Assimilation! Power Imbalance! Royalty AU!

Yandere Blue Lock | Yandere Michael Kaiser | 5.4k words | unedited

Michael Kaiser was arrogant, and surpassed all reason with his gall. As if it had not been your people who had fed and clothed his own when their ship sank near the coast of your island.

Provided them with shelter and welcomed them with open arms when they had nowhere to go in the vast ocean.

Whether it was gold or medicine, you wasted no expense to extend your generous hand towards them, ensuring your guests stayed comfortably while within the confines of your island.

Their culture was strange to you who had grown up in a matriarchy, surrounded by warriors and women admirable in both strength and intelligence. In fact, it was the opposite of your own. Men were the ones who held most of the power in their country, no wonder they looked so flabbergasted when there were no other men on the island beside themselves, surrounded by well built women tanned under the scorching sun, beyond anything they were used to as they had said many times.

They weren’t as bad as many stories told, they shared whatever was spared from the ocean on their ship, blankets, food that you had never come across and strange trinkets you still couldn’t fully understand.

Kaiser was strange even when you first met him, commanding those around him so naturally unlike you who was egalitarian in the making. Treating everyone with equal consideration and respect. Conceit lining his every action, as if he looked down on all those that surrounded him.

Had it not been for them not having anywhere else to go, you wouldn’t have let them near your people, especially not when it was evident he looked down on you.

“Your ‘country’ is run solely by women?” He seemed almost indignant when presented with this information. Despite this, you still bid them farewell with a smile on your face and nothing but prayers of good fortune for the journey that lies ahead of them.

So imagine your surprise when you receive a letter, a threat, the familiar arrogance dripping from each sentence written in the paper. ‘Surrender or else.’ That was basically what he was saying, that bastard. Acting as if your people hadn’t done all they did for his own.

But yours was a country of warriors, you’d fight them even if it cost your lives.

Or so you had thought, but the enemy never came. Instead, your numbers fell from within, one after another, all those around you fell ill, weakened until they could barely stand. You had barely managed to contain the infection when he came, that coward.

“You don’t seem to be doing very well.” He taunted, grinning from ear to ear as he looked down on you.

“A country run by women… isolated from the world. I was wondering for how long that’d work out for you.” He said as he walked circling around you, as a hyena would to its prey. He spared a few glances towards your surroundings, examining the sickly state many, including you were in. A rather cruel idea came to mind as he looked into your eyes, that defiance, sheer hatred that lined them, he wondered if he could crush it, like taming a wild animal in a sense.

“You’ll all die at this rate, why not come with me? The old geezer’s been pestering me lately to get married and I think you'd do nicely [name]. What do you say?” Even as he suggested something as serious as marriage, he had a certain playfulness in his tone, as if he was just mocking you, waiting for you to say yes just to laugh in your face.

“Even at a time like this you seem to spare no opportunity to mock us.” You spat back at him, not having braced yourself for the bruising hold on your jaw he now had.

“I’m sorry, I think I should rephrase that, I made it sound like I almost gave you a choice.” And with that, he released your aching jaw and walked out, you could overhear him ordering one of the men that came with him and while you didn't understand their language, you could assume it had something to do with you.

….

While most of the girls were against it, they understood you had no choice unless they were willing to face off against those strange men in their current condition. So it was decided, in exchange for treatment and protection from other invaders with similar intentions to Kaiser’s, you’d go with him. It felt dehumanising, to be traded like livestock but you didn’t want to think of what would happen had you opposed the idea as vehemently as you planned to.

Instead you focused on what to do once you reached his home country, it was a long journey, turns out that his men had settled on the just a few days on boat away from your island. His true home country, the one you learnt he would rule over was much further, a climate noticeably colder and duller than what you were used to.

“I expect you to be on your best behaviour once we get there, we wouldn’t want them to think you’re an uneducated savage, would we?” You despised how he spoke to you, slower, in a simpler way and overwhelmingly patronising, as one would to a child.

“I’m aware.” You replied.

He made you learn his country's language during the journey, so while he read government papers and complex books, he forced you to read children’s books out loud. Laughing at how you’d pronounce certain words, chuckle as you tried your best to differentiate between one sound and another and ensure you were thoroughly embarrassed before explaining anything you didn't understand.

He let you wear your own clothes at least, but even this, he assured, was only until you reached land, until he could have a tailor skilled enough to make something befitting of his future wife.

You couldn’t help but curse him under your breath every single day, pray he’d come down with sickness or fall overboard, pray he’d die, a slow painful death. But even this had to be done in secrecy, not because of how ill you wished him but because he forbade anything that held any semblance to your culture.

It was foolish to think he’d lose interest once you returned to his homeland, surrounded by enough women and shiny things to forget about you, men were fickle, or so the older women always told you. But not Kaiser to your dismay, instead he seemed even more invested in finding ways to make your life more difficult, from dance instructors to history and politics. Each day felt daunting as you missed your small island home, wanting for nothing more than to return to your home and your true family.

With what little you spoke of their language you could tell you weren’t the most welcome of guests, the maids’ glances towards you weren’t exactly overflowing in kindness and the older men that visited Kaiser seemed equally troubled by your presence.

“Who would dare say anything to my kaiserin.” There it was, the new nickname he had picked for you among a myriad of others, some more insulting than others. Not that Kaiser cared, he seemed to pay no mind to what you thought. Instead he seemed to be much more focused on your untouched plate.

“You’re not eating. I can’t have you looking like a corpse at our wedding, darling.” You just continued to stare down at your plate, its contents didn’t seem fit to be called food to you, not with how tasteless they were, even prisoners ate better in your homeland. You furrowed your brows as you took a bite, trying to chew as little as possible as to not taste any of it.

“I’m sure you’ve been taught better table manners than that, dear.” You didn’t like the way he looked at you, it’s as if he was looking at something lesser than him, lesser than human in his eyes.

“The food…I don’t like how it tastes.” You muttered under your breath in what little German you spoke.

“I suppose it’ll take time to develop an appreciation for high class food, I understand, especially after you’ve been eating garbage most of your life. No wonder you were so weak back then.” He never seemed to miss a chance to insult your culture. You were sure whatever garbage you had eaten before was much more filling than these scraps.

…

You had always enjoyed running around freely in the past, taking in the beauty of nature, but here, it would be rare to find any nature at all among the concrete jungle. And whatever little greenery there was was hidden by the accursed weather. Dull and gloomy, much like the country itself.

And god forbid your handmaidens let you out without hiding you among layers over layers of fabric, weighing you down just enough to make sure you would tire yourself out to not suggest going out for another few days.

But even that seems like a privilege to you now as you look out the large window in your room. He had come to visit earlier, drunk— clearly as seen from the pink in his cheeks and the unmistakable stench of alcohol coming from him.

“You’ll look so nice in a wedding dress, my precious kaiserin. I can’t wait to see you in white.” He said as he got closer than you’d have allowed, draping his arms around you as he sunk into the crook of your neck. You couldn’t help but scrunch your nose as he took in your scent. For an emperor as great as he claimed he was, he seemed to act a bit too depraved.

That’s when he went for it, tried to remove your dress. Your heartbeat racing as a mix of anxiety and dread overflowed from your thoughts as they clouded your judgement. In the midst of the moment, you shoved him away, ending in him being pushed onto your bed while you were now on the floor.

“What…?” He seemed angry, really, really angry. You didn't want to know what he would do so you just spewed whatever came to mind in hopes of something convincing enough to at least reduce whatever punishment he would give you now.

“The… The wedding! You have to wait. We should only do this after marriage. That’s what the priest said, we cannot do this unless we’re husband and wife!” You exclaimed as Kaiser simply looked at you, now having regained his composure.

You hoped this would buy you some time, at least enough to think of a way out without endangering the lives of your people. Your wedding was still a few months away, this would be enough time to do whatever was necessary.

Or so you had thought.

“Your highness, we cannot allow you to go out like this! Please understand, we’re under strict orders from the emperor. You must focus on your bridal studies. The tailor will also be coming today with the finalised dress.” The maid said, or rather pleased, she didn’t look any more pleased with the current arrangements as you were. That bastard, he moved your wedding from a few months to just weeks away after that. No wonder he had been so quiet lately. Everyone had begged that he rethink it but he paid them no mind, simply ordering that they prepare everything by the end of the month, sending everyone inside and outside the palace into a frenzy.

He didn’t forget to reprimand you for pushing him away either, forbidding anyone from allowing you outside the walls unless he himself allows it himself. Leaving you confined to your room most of the time, preparing for your wedding. Your stomach dropped at the mere thought of it.

…

Despite what he made you think, Kaiser was just as busy with wedding preparations as you were. Only the most grand event would be worthy of him and his precious wife. You used to be so aggressive when you first came, refusing to speak the language, firing insults at him every time he spoke. He found it adorable how you stuttered this time around. He did have to punish you for pushing him away, that was unacceptable, but the way you tried to reason with him, that desperate look in your eyes made him want to devour you right then and there.

It was rewarding to see the fruit of his labour.

It brought a smile to his face just to think about you.

“Have you heard? Apparently the empress is so beautiful that the emperor keeps her in a separate palace, he doesn’t allow any male servants near her so they aren’t seduced by your beauty.” A younger man, probably the son of a noble, seeing as how ignorant he was, said. The other men around him simply added more fuel to the fire as they continued to gossip amongst themselves.

The male couldn’t help but let out a dry chuckle. Would they have said the same thing had they seen you as you were back in your little island? Ragged and sickly, so ready to jump anyone that came too close to you as a string of curse words left your mouth. So unladylike, he was sure they wouldn’t.

None of them would have seen your potential like you did, he was the one who polished you into the gem that you were today so it’s only right he’s the only one to enjoy the benefits of it.

He’ll have to make sure you don’t have to interact with these scum too much during the wedding, Kaiser thought as he held himself back from ripping their tongues out right then and there, there were better, quieter ways to deal with people like that. No point in causing a commotion, especially when your wedding was so close, when you would finally have to resign yourself to your fate, sealed in his hands and his alone.

“Your highness please keep your arms up so that the tailor can fit the dress.” One of the maids said as a few others rustled around you, trying to fit the dress on you, ensure that it was safely fastened so as to avoid any accidents during your actual wedding.

“I hope you don't mind me intruding on your fitting session, my precious kaiserin.” Kaiser said as he invited himself in, his eyes set on you and the dress that just made you all the more alluring. Jewels that were worn by women of his family for centuries before this splayed all around the room as the maids tried to agree on the most fitting one and a dress made by the most prestigious tailor in the continent, all to represent his country, the mother of his nation.

…

The servants had all long gone now, leaving you alone with Kaiser. They giggled amongst themselves as they left, you had heard many talk about the lovely relationship between you two, oh how you wished to deny it all.

“You didn’t have to come.” You said, still insistent on avoiding eye contact with Kaiser.

“I can’t help but notice darling, you never seem to say my name. We’re to be wed soon, wouldn’t it be better for you to refer to your husband-to-be by his name?” You couldn’t understand why he seemed so intent in closing the distance between you two, as if to keep you from running off— not that there were any places where you could seek shelter from him and his overbearing presence.

Discomfort was evident in you as you tried to pry him away. It’d be hard to believe that you were the same person capable of taking out his men with relative ease. Kaiser, however, paid it no mind, instead leaning in closer as he took a hold of your chin, barely any distance left between you two, your breath hitching as you tried your best to divert the topic on to anything else.

“Come now, how hard can it be to say Michael, you’ve pronounced harder words darling, this should be easy for you.” He said leaning in even more. His lips practically on yours at this point, your efforts to pull away being left in vain as you hit the back of the sofa you were on.

“Michael, I said it, now please stop this!” You pleaded, but it would be difficult to reason with him now. Something about the way you said his name just felt so attractive to him. Maybe it was your accent, despite your best attempts, it was still hard to conceal it.

“Say it again.”

“W..what?” He looked like he was in a trance, no sign of his usual shit eating grin, a blank expression on his face as he stared back into your eyes, waiting for the words to leave your mouth.

“Michael.” You knitted your brows as your cheeks went red from embarrassment. It felt strange, demeaning almost. As if he were watching a child say its first words.

“Again.” Was he serious? You thought to yourself.

…

Hate Kaiser as you will, at the moment, he was the only one that could allow you to go out so in some messed up way, you had started to look forward to his visits. And with only a few days until your wedding, you couldn’t help but grow anxious so as insufferable as he was, at least you could enjoy a breath of fresh air, away from the stuffy palace in his presence.

You couldn’t help but take in the scenery, the same that seemed so lacking compared to your homeland just a few months ago

“That dress you wore earlier today suits you well, darling.” He said, eyes still focused on the freshly bloomed flowers.

“I’m sure it did, seeing how they had to practically starve me so that I could fit in it.” Your German had improved a lot lately, you could even use complex sentences now, not as insistent on using your mother tongue as you used to be, it brought him pride every time he heard you speak it.

“Stuffing your face like an uncivilised beast would be unbecoming of a lady of your standing regardless of whether there is a dress to fit into or not, my dear.“ Some part of you was convinced he did this so you wouldn’t have the energy to escape.

“I wasn’t aware basic human needs had become uncivilised in your glorious empire.”

“You’ve been behaving well lately, it’s in your best interest to keep that up, darling.” It had been ages since you last acted up, Kaiser had thought he had crushed your rebellious spirit by now. He could forgive this, maybe it was just you getting antsy because of your wedding.

…

You’d received many congratulatory gifts before your wedding, most from people you had never before met. Foreign emissaries, nobles and others, all filled with congratulations and well wishes but you spared them no attention, instead focusing on the letter sent to you by your friends and family back home, your real home. During the time it took for the letter to get to you it was already quite dated but you still read it over and over again, written in your home tongue and filled with words of encouragement. Details you feared you had forgotten, people who you couldn’t picture in your head anymore but longed for each passing day. Kaiser didn’t allow letters most of the time, especially not when they were written in your home tongue, a reminder of your unruly past as he saw it.

This one was a wedding gift, a final goodbye to your friends and family before you became someone even you couldn’t recognize.

You read it over and over again. Tears formed in your eyes as you realised just how much you had forgotten, turning into a sobbing mess before you even realised.

“Had I known this is how you’d act, I'd have thought twice before giving you that letter.” There he was again, so eager to interrupt any thoughts of your home.

“I- I’m sorry.” You managed to say between sobs, trying to compose yourself before he said anything else, carefully tucking the letter away into your study drawer.

“May I write back to them?” You asked, practically pleaded considering the pathetic state you were in.

“We’ve talked about this before, dear. You know I dislike repeating myself.”

“Only once please—! I won’t ask again, Michael please just this once—!”

He seemed displeased with your request but instead of saying anything, he merely got up and approached your desk. However, to your surprise, he simply walked past you, instead kneeling in front of your drawers, taking the letter out and before you could react, he ripped it to shreds, right in front of you. Not even sparing the remains, opting to throw them into the lit fireplace, making sure they were burnt to a crisp before facing you again.

He took out a piece of paper from his pocket, leaving it on the desk.

“W-what’s this?” It was hard to talk to him after what he had just done, you wanted nothing more than to curse him.

“A list of names I’ve narrowed down, choose the one you like most by tonight, otherwise I’ll choose the one I like most.” He said nonchalantly.

“Names…? Why would you need me to choose a name?”

He merely looked at you disdained.

“You’ve not been baptised yet, I can’t be marrying a heretic, dear.”

“Is it really necessary to change my name though?”

He slammed his hand on your desk.

“You were behaving so well up until yesterday, so you seemed to have forgotten under whose jurisdiction that beloved island of yours is, my dear.” And with that, he stole a small kiss from your lips and left.

None of the names on the list felt pleasant to your tongue, they all sounded so foreign so Kaiser ended up choosing for you, he seemed happy to do so anyway. Things moved fast from there, in under a week so much had happened. Everyone around you seemed so overjoyed, everyone except you who was intent on ignoring your reality. Repeating over and over again the words you had read in that letter as a desperate attempt to remember your homeland. With even your name now replaced, nothing besides fickle memories was left but even those seemed to fade so fast.

…

Time moved fast when you were trying to hold on to it, hours turned into mere seconds. It became hard to grasp something so intangible as you walked down an aisle surrounded by strangers, in a building equally as unfamiliar.

Ironically, the only thing that wasn’t foreign was Kaiser, the man that had dragged you out so far across the map in the first place.

As the priest had you decide words you couldn’t fully comprehend and as hundreds of eyes peered onto you, you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. Seeking what little comfort there was in them.

“All hail his highness the kaiser and kaiserin. May god bless their reign!” The man exclaimed as a string of cheers echoed through the large chapel, flower petals gently falling as the light from the stained glass windows of all colours seeped through.

Your breath hitching all of a sudden as you felt Kaiser’s hand on your waist.

“Nothing will save you today my darling bride.” He whispered into your ear with his usual devilish grin, his eyes still facing the guests.

You dreaded what was to come, his mere presence brought shivers to your spine. How were you supposed to spend the rest of your life with a man like that?

In the large ballroom, one after another, the guests greeted you, paying respects, asking if you remember them and their wedding gifs, each trying to outdo the last. But even in all the commotion, with the music drowning the room in even more noise, even then, your mind could only dread what awaited you once the music stopped and you were guided away.

…

You could feel it, his heartbeat. The constant thumping, mechanical like a clockwork in a sense. It wasn’t as erratic as yours, fast paced yes but you were sure the wine he downed earlier had something to do with that.

Reflexively moving away as he tried to inch closer, only to be met with a bruising grip, one fully intent on keeping you in place.

“Not today, my kaiserin, no. Today, I’ll enjoy all you have to offer and so will you. All you have to do is be good.” He said, barely audible as he looked at you with something between drunken stupor and sheer lust. Burying his head in the crook of your neck, taking a moment to breathe in your scent before his teeth sink in, you let out a hiss, trying your best to push him away or to at least have him stop but to no avail.

He took your home, your name—identity and that night, he took your body as well, leaving you with nothing at all.

He took all you had to offer and in turn left you with child, his child.

You only found out months later, as the sickness seemed to become too much to excuse as just a cold or upset stomach. As your dresses became increasingly difficult to fit into. And as if to add insult to injury, the physician thought it to be more important to inform Kaiser before he did you.

As if it wasn’t you who would carry this child for months to come.

“You’re the mother of my empire and now of my child as well, my kaiserin. You’ve brought me nothing but joy.” He said as he brought you into an embrace as the physician left.

But while Kaiser spewed affirmations of love and joy, you couldn’t help but feel guilty. Not when the first thought in your mind had been to compare his—your child to a parasite, like its father it would take and take from you.

Even beasts loved their kin, what a monster you had become to think that of your own child.

“Ahh.” You couldn’t help but wail. You didn’t want to bring such a child into the world, what a cruel mother you were. Uncontrollable sobs echoed through the room as you tried to cover your face, block out the man whose head up until mere moments ago laid on your lap, now looking at you with an unfamiliar expression of surprise. But it was quick to contort into something more akin to hurt and anger.

“…Why are you crying?” He whispered, the lack of his usual confidence and playfulness putting you off. His hands now firmly holding your face in place, leaving your tear stricken face with no choice but to face his.

“My first thought when I heard of the child…” You paused as more tears streamed down your face.

“I wished it’d die!” You exclaimed. “H-How can someone like me be a mother?”

“What have I become? What have you turned me into?!” You broke down once again, unable to see the sheer disgust in Kaiser’s expression, not until he forced your face up again.

“You’re carrying my child, the heir to my empire. You’d best act like it, my dear.” He scared you at times like these, when the familiar playfully hint in his eyes got replaced with a cruel look, one you would give your enemy, or someone you saw as less than human.

There was only one thing you hated more than that, it was when he acted like nothing happened the day after.

As he embraced you and his child, a smile wider than any you had seen before, acting as if you hadn't said what you did. As if you didn’t wilt away every day before your son's birth. He looked like him, like Kaiser. The same eyes, same hair, even his face held more semblance to him than you.

…

You sat in the shade, sheltered from the pathetic rays of sun if they could even be called that. Tea and other snacks set on the small table in front of you. Looking out the garden to see three young boys running around.

They laughed and chased after one and another, wooden swords and whatever the garden could provide turned into toys.

“I’m the emperor so I get to take all your land!” The eldest proclaimed.

“That’s not fair, you were emperor last time! This is my land, you can take Wilhelm land instead!” The youngest retorted, pointing towards his older brother.

“No! That’s not fair, you’re both cheating! Mother, tell them to stop, it’s my turn to be the hero!” Your second son, Wilhelm said, insisting you tell the other two off for cheating.

An airy buckle leaving your lips as you looked at the small boys, little, all three of them holding little if any resemblance to you.

“You two all got your turns, let’s let Wilhelm be emperor today, hmm?” The boys both let out a whine before they resumed their game, still equally as loud as before.

It was hard to face your children at times when you were reminded of when you first found out about your pregnancy. But you’ve learnt to bury those memories now. Between official duties and your children, there was little time for such thoughts in your day. Perhaps that was why you had forgotten all else.

You used to have a home but you remembered nothing of it, not what it looked like nor where you lived, maybe, if you tried really hard, you could recall its name.

There used to be people in your life before Kaiser but now, even if they were in front of you you doubted you would recognize them. It’s hard to hold onto memories when they’re so fleeting regardless of how hard you try. Not when even recalling them is an offence worth punishing in your husband’s eyes.

“Father!” Speak of the devil. The children screamed in unison, running towards Kaiser who had already opened his arms, welcoming them all for a hug.

They looked so innocent, unaware of the true nature of their father. Of course they would be when he stopped you from teaching them a single word in your home tongue, to utter a single word of your past would not be easily forgiven.

“My, if it isn’t my little princes.” He said between chuckles as the children tried to tackle him to the ground.

“Where’s your mother?”

“Mother is over there!” The youngest said, pointing his finger towards you. Kaiser giving you his classic grin. Taking the two youngest boys by the hand as he walked towards you.

As they walked side by side it was easier than ever to tell how much they resemble their father. Everything, from how they looked to even their names was foreign to you.

A chaste kiss on the cheek waking you from your trance as you looked behind you to find your husband and children, all smiling and laughing amongst themselves,

“What were you thinking to be so deep in thought?” He asked, receiving a simple ‘Nothing much.’ As a reply, interrupted by one of the children who seemed eager to jump on your lap and reach for sweets from the small table.

You doubt you’ll ever come to accept this life as your own, you’ll forever look into the mirror and try to recognize the stranger that you had become. But there was no home to return now, Kaiser had made sure of that, tearing it apart piece by piece, no people left on what was once your entire world, not when they all left for better opportunities to neighbouring countries. Nor did you have any pride, not when he tore it apart bit by bit.

Now you could only hope to be content, to one day entirely forget what you had known. To forget the pain of forgetting and to truly live in the present. Even if it’s with the man responsible for putting you through such pain.

Masterlist

#yandere #yandere character #yandere x reader #yandere blog #dark fic #yandere male #yandere scenario #yandere blue lock #blue lock #yandere blue lock x you #yandere kaiser #michael kaiser #yandere michael kaiser #michael kaiser x you

1K notes · View notes

fel-09 · 4 months ago

Text

Incomplete Vampire Part:2

End

This work contains scenes 18+ please pass by this fanfic if you are younger

Warnings: 18+, Blood, Disease,

stockholm syndrome

Pairing: Carlisle Cullen x fem!reader

Another warning! : the fanfic is not edited properly because the author wants to correct it 3 times to make sure everything is ok

In between: I tried to notice something but my brain switched off at one in the morning (that is now)

________________________________________________________________________

Many years have passed since Carlisle took (the reader) into his house, turning her into a vampire, the girl gradually adapted to her new essence, but there was a problem she was still ill, her body was practically doomed to suffer forever from the disease, but would not die from it, her body was warm like a human, (reader) even when she overcame her vampire side, she was still weaker than most, because of security measures, Carlisle did not let her out of the house, sometimes he had to sleep next to her to feel when she needed painkillers in rare manifestations of her illness

After returning from work, Carlisle wearily sat down at his desk in his office, he decided that taking some of the work at home would be the best idea because he could take care of (the reader) , his gaze fell on the documents, there were 15-20 pieces , he would have dealt with them quickly

There was a clatter of heels in the hallway, the door to Carlisle's office opened, and there stood (the reader). Carlisle looked up from the papers in his hands and gave her a pleasant look , clutching the hem of her dress a little nervously(the reader) looked straight at him. a pleasant wave passed through Carlisle's body when he noticed what she was wearing ... The dress he bought her , a week ago, is a soft creamy color with satin fabric.

Carlisle knew her body proportions..what style and cut of fabric would suit her , what size of shoes she had , so he did not need to take her to the store , she always stayed at home so that he could take care of her, he decided that she did not need a hairdresser, her long hair suited her , emphasizing her delicate features, at one point he Lost too much in his own thoughts, Carlisle shook his head, focusing on her

The girl hesitated and entered his office, closing the door behind her, her quiet steps echoed through the room when she approached him at his desk and started a conversation

"Carlisle, I want to talk to you"

At that moment, the man realized what the conversation was going to be about and his eyes darkened and his voice became stern

"Honey, if you start talking about walking alone and work again, then forget about thet"

"But I can't lives like that anymore....I want to get away from this house a little bit, it's like I'm locked in a cage, I have no choice about anything."

Carlisle just leaned back irritably in the chair his cold gaze swept over her face, gathering his strength, he stood up and hovered over her small body, squeezing her shoulders with his hands tightly enough not to hurt, he would not let her go for nothing

If something had happened to her? He would not forgive himself, she was too fragile and naive, she would not be able to do anything without him, even a step, Carlisle looked into her eyes, noticing her rapid heartbeat, he had the impression that she was still a person

"My no means no, and I think I've given you too much freedom."

He hugged her to him and nuzzled her neck, inhaling her scent, ,his hands moved down smoothly clasping her hip, and the other lay on her lower back pressing her to him, to which the doctor received her trembling body which reflexively clung to him, this was not the first time and not the last When he treated her like that , even though Carlisle was so obsessed with her that he bought a house separately so that he could live alone with her , he never went too far with her ...But now

His patience had run out, he was too tired at the moment, always worrying about her health, even if it was useless.., sitting down at his chair, he held her by his hips, pressing her to himself and sat her on his hips , squeezing them gently, the reader shuddered , putting her hands on his shoulders and gasped

"Carlisle Please I.."

To which she received a slap on the ass, and she moaned softly, burying her face in his shoulder with a groan , Carlisle rubbed the place where he hit her, slowly taking off her panties

"I didn't tell you to talk, you know? Next time, so that this does not happen again" - to which he received a Nod , the doctor was satisfied with her behavior, although he could have demanded an oral agreement, it was enough for him, because carlisle did not want to put too much pressure on her

"Lift up your hips darling, I have to take off your underwear."

Pov: you

You lifted your hips and gave him access to take off your panties, settling more comfortably on his hips, he did not take off your dress, but gently and carefully ran a finger over your stockings, pulling them off and letting go so that he pressed back against your skin with a slap, to which you hissed, and squeezed his shoulders harder,

His hands moved steadily, and slowly while his hand lay on your clitoris gently massaging it, to which you began to moan a little, the sticks slid deeper into your masonry, rubbing them with your lubricant ,

"Carlisle, please,"

You whispered in his ear to which he let out a quiet grow, starting to kiss your cheek, leaving wet footprints on them -"all in good time, my sweet, you have to wait until I finish okay?"

You nodded and sobbed , it was too good while he massaged your clitor, and then slid the fingers into the Inside your body ,to which you made more obvious moans, the fingers began to move and stretch you , from the inside you felt like burning while his Fingers were cold , rubbing the place where you liked the most , When did you let out a groan Carlisle caught your lips gently kissing you while his tongue worked in your mouth

You were already on the verge when you felt how his fingers were no longer in you , feeling the emptiness you whined into his lips, Carlisle broke the kiss and whispered

"I'm sorry, my dear, but I have to punish you, in a different way," he took off his pants and carefully freed his penis, sliding inside you, he moaned ,feeling how wet and hot you were

"You're going to sit like this until I finish my work, and it's going to take over an hour, my sweet." Although he lied and could have finished the job faster, Carlisle wanted to teach you a good lesson, and every time you wanted to move while he was working, his hand slapped your ass every time

No.. Carlisle wouldn't let you go, because you belonged to him, right? ...even if he has to lock you at home .... with a key or a chain

________________________________________________________________________

I hope you like it and the bot on this story

(click here☝🏻)

And here is my art :

#carlisle cullen #carlisle cullen x reader #carlisle x reader #twilight #twilight x reader #fem reader #twilight saga #x reader

56 notes · View notes