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suguru-getos · 5 months

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fractures // geto suguru x f!reader // chapter 1

warnings: abusive!suguru, mentions of cuts, mentions of physical abuse (choking, beating up, chaining), not for the faint-hearted. not beta'd. dead dove do not eat. summary: being a monkey is the norm except when you're captured by geto sama because he needs money from your parents. however, you may just have to suffer a little extra because of the forced thinking about the right and wrongs... you're putting him through.

it has been in total of three days since you have been caged in the geto estate, at first, your anxiety and palpitations could not let you sleep, now? you're too exhausted to have those in the first place. it was simple, your parents were millionaires and owed geto some money, they decided not to go ahead with the deal and in turn, Miguel brought you here. in the confined walls of the estate where they crush you chokingly.

it's 3 am, your eyes wide awake in the bed that you're confined to, leg chained to the bedpost and the metallic bite of the chain brushing against your skin, bruisingly. your ankle is tied from the bedpost, you could walk around only to a certain extent. why? because you tried to escape and almost succeeded. now even when you try to sleep, it serves as a reminder of how you are a prisoner here. you hate this, all of this because the cult leader named geto thinks you're useless and a monkey. you don't even have an idea what that means...

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"they have a daughter." miguel hums at suguru, crossing his arms and manspreading, sitting with geto in his office. the feline eyed man raised a brow, "is that so?" "Interesting..." he hums again, feet tapping on the floor. "Miguel, how does she look like?" his voice laced with curiosity echoed in the room which had the two of them contemplating future plans. "wait, i have a picture.."

and there you were, papped and captured from your morning errand, holding your coffee in your hand and wearing a white tank top, and some parachute pants. you were beautiful, suguru could almost call you perfect. if only... you were not a pathetic monkey. he hates them, and they have no place in his world, they will never be a part of his world...

"i just want to go home- i don't have any idea what you're talking about." another flashback rang through your mind. your first day here, comprising you begging and whimpering against the ropes of the chair you were tied to. "of course you don't, your parents do. your opinions are worthless in this anyway." geto looks at you with disgust, his eyes carry a strange emotion... he just, hated you for existing. nothing else. mere existence...

"fuckers like you who have no morals whatsoever have no other choice but to kidnap huh? fucking asshole!" you snarled, screaming out in frustration. you had no idea how your life could change so easily. a large hand wrapped around your throat the next instant, choking the life out of you with no relent. you struggled, eyes widening and feet kicking with wheezing gasps. "you see?" geto hums, leaning in against your ear and gravely whispering, "this is how easy it is for me to kill you, you're nothing. just a worthless piece of shit born to create curses in this world."

you couldn't do anything, your hands were tied up, you could only see the life you had, flash in front of your eyes before you passed out. suguru has no idea of his strength with a feeble human yet. he leans back, noticing the prominent bruising on your neck once your head leaned back, limp and lifeless. he yanked his hand away, putting some sanitizer on it. "pathetic." he hums, gritting his teeth. you were so weak... so fucking weak and still all you had to do was use that pathetic mouth didn't you?

geto left you there for the night, a very minuscule part of him feeling upset over the way he treated you, he would call himself an asshole for it if it was a sorcerer, but you weren't one. who cares if you're not a sorcerer anyways...

the next day, your eyes blinked awake, a hiss escaping you when you noticed you were still tied up, some of the blood circulation stopped because of the ropes tying your body to the chair. you wanted to scream, but your voice box hurts after yesterday. a grim reminder of what your kidnapper was truly capable of. you sniffled weakly, senses in fight or flight.

before your pitiful breakdown could even commence, manami opened the door, watching you with the same disgust her 'geto sama' carries... what is wrong with these people? truly? why do they look at you like you mean nothing. like you have done the greatest sin of the earth just by being born? "good morning, here's the thing. geto sama has informed your parents that you're under our custody, if they agree to give the money then you're safe to go, or we kill you." she shrugs. killing... is it that normal of a thing to say?

your eyes widened at the sheer panic of it, manami noticing the palpable fear in them and laughing, walking closer to you and untying you roughly; ignoring the scratches the rough rope surface would gift your skin. "take a shower." she yanked you by your hair, throwing you on the floor.

a loud whimper escapes you when your ribs collide with the solid marble, your body was still recovering from being tied up. what is wrong with these people? you're sure you have some visceral damage at this, your internal organs hurt with that throw, blinding pain in your sensitive scalp because of the hold in your hair. suck it up... you need to suck it up. "shouldn't you- treat me like a human at least? if my parents come back for me?" you grunt, using the aid of your palms to get up, a little dizzy.

manami cocks a hip out, "geto sama was right, you have a smart mouth for a monkey." she scoffs, walking outside with a hold on your nape. you stumble on the floor, how is this woman so strong? you couldn't understand why... you couldn't budge in her grip on you.

everything is hazy after, except you were force-fed hot soup for telling geto to kill himself during dinner, and not fed at all the next day, getting captured as well for running away and now a chain on your ankle.

you close your eyes, hugging yourself tightly. you need to be your own comfort. you have to be your own comfort. but its hard... the way they look at you, the way they treat you, everything is making you wish you were better off dead. why are your parents taking so long in the first place? what's wrong with them really?

your body is exhausted, unable to keep up with the constant stress. you do end up getting dazed to sleep. although its filled with nightmares. you're woken up to an echo of a voice.

"good morning, i'm sure these don't feel good." geto hums, and you jolt awake, leaning instinctively against the headboard. eyes glossed, fear dancing through your nerves. you don't respond. why is he here? "i didn't think you were that dumb to try to run yesterday." he clicks his tongue, looking at you. gosh you still have the popped lip from when manami hit you after getting caught. some of it is in your nose too. geto sighs, its the way you behave that he gets conflicted. he has always been an underdog supporter, now a bunch of powerful sorcerers were torturing a frail human just because of money...

maybe he should do you a favor and kill you instead. he could just tell your parents that they delayed in sending the sum of money and take the money anyway.He wants to stay true to his word but also wants to return you to them. another part of him... which he hates the most, almost wants to hug you and apologize. That part is the reason you're being treated this way.

"you're not answering me." he raises a brow, watching you shiver with fear and flinch at the tone of his voice. "I'm sorry, won't run again." you managed to say meekly; within three days of you being here, you look like a completely different person. your neck is bruised, your face is bruised, your hair is a mess, you are chained to a room. it is drastic for you, geto knows that. "hm, you know the consequences aren't too great, i would just listen to me if i were you." he adds on, watching your shoulders slump in defeat. my god were you beautiful, you were perfect in his eyes, someone he should have taken on dates if his life was normal. thanks to your disgusting kind, his life isn't normal.

"manami will come to you with breakfast." he stands up with that, and your heart races. you hate that woman and the way she treats you. you wouldn't say geto is any better but at least he isn't downright awful... so far. you nodded, getting up to go and shower at least. the clank of chains in your ankle echoes in the room, and it makes geto stand still for a moment. the flash of his little girls caged haunts in his eyes. isn't he doing something similar to you.

"y/n." he says your name, watching your eyes slowly dart towards him. "if you behave for a few days, the chain will be gone."

you don't respond to that, walking away. suguru bites his lip, he hates this feeling he's getting. a frog in his fucking throat and it's just been four days of you being here. he shouldn't deter from his thoughts like this anyway. you're a monkey, a useless monkey who should be killed as soon as possible.

manami comes in with breakfast and you could only manage a few bites despite not being able to eat properly. manami was not that mean today, all she said that she expected you dead but you're not yet. she says this everyday, nothing ordinary.

meanwhile, your parents have decided to actually manage the sum of money, but it will take time. they inform geto of the same. your mom pathetically sobbing for her little baby girl. "don't worry, she will be alive and kicking, i will keep my word. you have 10 days." suguru cuts the phone call after.

you... would be elated to hear this news wouldn't you? you should be! and so he walks towards your room, where you were laying on the mattress, leg bruised and bleeding. his eyes widen a little. what did you fucking do?

you had a big and a deep gash on your ankle, from the looks of it, you were trying to get free from the chains. what did you even use for this? his eyes land to the sharp enough culinary knife on your bedside table. you were crazy, any other monkey girl would simply behave and let time decide her freedom. why did you want to be so miserable?

"y/n." he mumbles your name again, and your eyes land on him, "geto" you respond, you didn't even carry any malice when you said your name. he walks towards you, getting the first aid from your cupboard and tending to your leg. "if you want an easy enough death, just ask me." he's sure you'd have another panic attack at this statement. you've been having one every day for the past four days after all.

"hm, gimme n' easy death then" you hummed, emotionless as ever. "cus i think m' parents don't give a shit anyway." a stray tear escapes through your eyes, followed by a soft hiccup of a choked sniffle. geto stays quiet at that. yesterday night, he had a dream of you smiling. or what he envisioned your smile would look like... it would surely make you look more beautiful than you already are. he's so sure of it.

"it's not like that, they did contact me and soon you'll be free." he smiled, the close-eyed feline curve that charms everyone fails to work on you. "i see." you hum, and geto trifled with the metallic cuffs on your ankle, gently putting them away. he can't really let you be this miserable. it was pathetic, it was making him pathetic.

"sorcerers exist to protect the weak." his own voice echoes which he preached satoru with. a soft sigh escaping him. he hates you. he hates what you do to him and he hates how you're having this effect on him without even trying. "yeah, a few more days of me tolerating a hooker-looking pest like you." he grits his teeth, getting up. you blinked, unsure what the sudden change in his demeanor signified. all you could do was brace. brace for another attack.

suguru watches you do so, and that sends a shiver down his spine. what's happening to him? he kills monkeys without remorse! maybe he should kill you, fuck your parents, fuck their money. fuck you.

"since you really like using the knife how about i teach you how to use it hm?" you blinked when he spits those words out, feet stomping and holding the knife up. before you could even lean away he has your wrist in his hold, hot tears streaming down your face with the way your heart thumped loud from your mouth. "please please- no no- what're you-" the pointed tip of the knife glides down your skin, and despite your gutteral, blood-curdling screams and pleas, geto only lets go of your hand when he's written the word 'MONKEY' in your arm. throwing the knife away and watching you bleed.

"i hate you, stupid monkeys." he walks away with that, while you succumb to the ache and pass out. it hurts, you could feel the blood trickling down the mattress before your body lulls you to sleep.

meanwhile, suguru shuts himself in his room, the daunting sound of the door shutting down loud and him covering his ears with tears streaming down his face. what's he even doing? why did he have to do that? oh he knows why. he wanted to prove a point that he doesn't feel anything when he hurts a monkey. that he relishes in it... but that didn't happen.

didn't happen at all...

just nine more days with you until suguru geto gets rid of you and proceeds with his mission to kill all non-sorcerers.

#geto suguru #geto x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #fractures geto #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk angst #geto angst #geto suguru angst

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xieni-logs · 1 year

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hello!! could i request Dan Heng, Blade, Jing Yuan and Gepard with a chronically ill s/o? just some fluff and comfort :)

thank you!! have a lovely day <3

HSR x chronically ill!Reader

includes: Blade, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Dan Heng

a/n: hii!! I’m not sure what type of chronic illness you wanted the reader to have so each character has a different chronically ill reader, I hope that’s ok! blade's was kind of self-indulgent because i got arthritis (though no where as severe as the reader's is depicted) im so sorry if some of the illnesses arent 100% accurate word count: 1.4k (in total)

Blade x Reader with rheumatoid arthritis

: ̗̀➛ you were diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis in every joint in your body. this meant that the pain in your joints would only get worse with time. of course, you had your good and bad days. on good days, the pain was minimal, to the point you wouldn't feel a thing. but on bad days, the pain in your shoulders made it difficult to carry bags, lift things, and particular bad days made it near impossible to get even changed. somedays, the pain in your hips were uneven and made you limp. Blade didn't really understand it at first; you were fine one day and looked terrible the next. it took him a while but he eventually understood that your arthritis came and went.

: ̗̀➛ one particular bad day, you could only lay down, feeling uncomfortable in your own body, a constant spike of pain present. breathing felt difficult, and you felt yourself tearing up just trying to sit up. the minutes it takes to even sit up right felt more like hours. sometimes, the pain killers wouldn't work as they should, and unfortunately, this was one of those days.

: ̗̀➛ Blade enters your room and you quickly turn your head to face him, and immediately regret it due to the pain. he knows it's one of those bad days; your eyes watery, the awkward position you were sitting in, and the look on your face just begging him to make the pain go away. it's difficult for him to comfort you with words so he goes to get some heating pads, food for you to eat, etc... anything he can really. he'll hold you close, minimal movements, letting you lay on him. in the silence between you two, he can't help but wish that at the very least, you could achieve the eternal peace he was chasing after.

Gepard x Reader with asthma

: ̗̀➛ as the captain of the silvermane guards, he has to keep fit and he’d like you, his lover, to at least do some morning runs with him. he knows that you have asthma, but he didn’t think a morning brisk would do anything awful. as long as you managed your symptoms, it was all fine! there usually arent any problems either, to the point your inhaler was often forgotten at home during these runs.

: ̗̀➛ unfortunately, perhaps you were trying to go faster for Gepard knowing he usually slowed down for you or something but you were definitely pushing yourself more than you could handle. your breaths drew short, not enough oxygen getting to you leaving you lightheaded as you continued to run. Gepard ran a bit in front of you, or at least he did. you watched as the distance between you and him grew farther and farther, and your running got slower until it came to a halt. leaning against a wall, you tried to catch your breath but you honestly couldn’t tell if you were breathing at all. the pain coming from your chest felt like too much, you had a hard time pushing air in and out of your lungs.

: ̗̀➛ Gepard ran back, retracing his steps, when he saw you were no longer with him. he found you hunched over, leaning against a wall, looking like you were hyperventilating. rushing to your side, he quickly recognizes that you were having an asthma attack. scooping you into his arm, he quickly runs back to your home. he may look calm due to the fact he is able to hide his fears, he’s a captain after all, but he’s panicking on the inside. the way home is blurry; you aren’t focused on what’s happening around you, only feeling your chest going up and down yet it didn’t feel like you were breathing. it felt as if there was something blocking your airway, causing everything to feel sort of stuck. Gepard grabs your inhaler and shakes it, before giving it to you. the effects don’t happen immediately which worried Gepard, but you eventually were able to breath, at least a little. he takes you to a hospital to get checked up immediately after. it’s when you’re getting checked does the realization that he came so close to losing you sink in. Gepard is clingier the week after that; holding your hands more (even when he’s working), kissing you almost every chance he gets, holding you before bed, etc… he’ll never forget to bring your inhaler on your morning runs after that.

Jing Yuan x Reader with diabetes

: ̗̀➛ low blood sugar is more than being shaky; no matter how long you’ve been diabetic, you’ll never get used to the god awful feeling of dread that occurs. Jing Yuan cares about your health, and he’s got the books and notes to prove it. usually, diabetes doesn’t get in the way of your life besides watching what you eat, having to keep fit, but it’s manageable.

: ̗̀➛ certain occasions like today, unfortunately, you wake up to a shaky feeling crawling up your body. it was early morning, Jing Yuan slept looking peaceful by your side. you forced yourself up and reached over to the meter as quietly as you could. after loading the strip into the device, you pricked your finger- a feeling you will never like. the number 40 glowed on the screen, glaring at you. you knew you had to wake Jing Yuan up because you really didn’t think you could go anywhere feeling like this. you felt awful nudging him awake, interrupting his sleep. all you have to do is show Jing Yuan the 40 and he’s beelining to the kitchen for some juice. when you finish drinking the juice, Jing Yuan holds; your head on his chest and his arms wrapped around you.

: ̗̀➛ your apologies to Jing Yuan for waking him fall to deaf ears as he’s rebutting everything you’re saying. many “nothing to be sorry about”s and “it’s not your fault”s could be heard. 15 minutes later, you prick your finger and show Jing Yuan a glowing 97. he goes to grab you a sandwich and after you finish eating, you two go back to bed. you lean on his shoulder, his hand cradling the side of your head, his chin laid on the top of your head, the two of you drift back to sleep holding each other.

Dan Heng x Reader with osteoporosis

: ̗̀➛ the path of the Trailblaze was not one without danger and Dan Heng was afraid you’d to be hurt in the crossfire though. you were diagnosed with osteopenia which eventually led to osteoporosis, which meant your bones were brittle. you hated it, this meant you were a liability to the astral express when trailblazing and often had to sit out during anything that had the slightest bit of danger. once, you asked if you could just have March’s shield on you at all times but even that proved ineffective in the long run.

: ̗̀➛ today, the astral express crew was visiting Herta for the Trailblazer to check out the simulated universe. Dan Heng quickly finished off the enemy before rushing to your side. it looked terrible, your arm was bent out of place and you couldn’t find it in yourself to say a thing. when you tried to move, a dreadful grinding sound occurred which made you nauseous. Dan Heng alerted the rest of the express crew before they all brought you to the medical department. thankfully, it wasn’t anything irreversible but throughout the treatment, you couldn’t help but feel like a big burden, getting hurt easily.

: ̗̀➛ once everything is fine and all you needed was time to heal, Dan Heng pulled you into a tight hug, whispering a few “thank god you’re fine”s and a “i was so worried.” usually you’d love his clingier side but it felt like pity. and god, it made you feel awful. no one else on the express would get hurt as easily as you. you push Dan Heng away, feeling terrible that you were such a burden, you quickly brief over how you feel. he grabs your wrist, looking you straight in your eyes, and loudly stated every reason you were not a burden because of your osteoporosis. from how you could take care of yourself to helping the express in ways non-physical like talking your way into less community service when the astral express crashed into a stadium. Dan Heng pulled you into a hug saying one last time, “you aren’t a burden.”

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hey-august · 5 months

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@soupsprout, you wanted the sad ending to this angst and here it is! I'm gonna go curl up and feel both accomplished and bad for a while. 🥲

Also, @rorywritesjunk, I put the answer to the riddle in this ending, if you're still curious. 👀

➜ First part here WC: ~600 Warnings: buggy x GN!reader, mentions of death (off-screen reader and others), mentions of blood, just overall sad and angsty, no comfort

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Things were bad and then they got worse. It took too long to find help, not that it would have mattered. Mohji tried to tell Buggy, but he wasn’t sure if the captain really heard him.

Buggy was sitting on the ground next to you, holding your limp hand in his, and staring at nothing. Your body was slumped against his, as if you were resting. Your face was covered in red - smeared handprints from someone trying to wake you up, and face paint from someone apologizing and begging for something to change.

“Captain, what should we do? We can’t just stay here.”

No response.

“Captain? We have to do somethin-”

Buggy grabbed Mohji by the neck. The anger that flashed on his face was briefly preceded by a more painful and haunting expression.

“Go after them. Chase those fuckers down, anyone who got away,” Buggy said through gritted teeth.

Mohji nodded and coughed when Buggy let go. “And…” The next question trailed off as the lion tamer struggled not to see you, but a body that needed to be disposed of.

“That’s all. Those are the orders. Go!”

Buggy knew exactly what Mohji was going to ask, but he wasn’t ready yet. Besides seeking vengeance, he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to feel. He was full of anger and blame, which fueled the wrath that he used to lash out indiscriminately.

Of course he blamed the raiders who ambushed his ship, and Buggy made sure they felt regret until their last breath. The sounds of screaming and begging for mercy went on far longer than anyone Buggy’s crew expected.

Unfortunately, Buggy’s anger turned on them next. They shouldn’t have let this happen. Rather than exploding with violence, Buggy began to withdraw. Part of him knew it wasn’t their fault, the crew always had each other’s backs, but he had trouble looking at anyone that was in the same room as you.

For a brief moment, Buggy also blamed you. It was your fault. You shouldn’t have gotten hurt. You should have known better. As soon as that thought formed, all the guilt fell onto Buggy’s shoulders. How could he think that of you? How could he have let this happen? He put you in danger. He didn’t protect you. He didn’t save you. He just let you die.

Buggy couldn’t bring himself to give you a burial at sea. He was afraid of sending you somewhere he couldn’t follow. You said it didn’t matter during one of those late night talks that knitted you two closer together. He remembered how bright the stars were then.

Instead of giving your body to the sea, Buggy chose a small island. One where you could always see the stars, even if they don’t shine as bright anymore.

Eventually, Buggy started eating with the crew again. Laughing with them. Drinking with them. But some days, he would withdraw. He’d sit down on the bloodstained floor, after forbidding anyone from cleaning or replacing the boards, and spend time with you.

At first he would just sit there in silence, full of pain and heartache. Then he started talking. Buggy would tell you about life on the ship, what happened that day, any little story that popped into his mind.

Sometimes, Buggy would tell you jokes and riddles. He always made sure to tell you the punchline as soon as possible, pushed by remorse and fear of leaving you without the answer again. He’d indulge in the humor until his laugh turned into sobs that he couldn’t hold in any longer.

Wiping away his tears with the back of his hands, he'd sit there with a single stinging thought. After losing you, Buggy felt like a lion at the South Pole. He felt lost.

#buggy angst #buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown #x reader #buggy op #opla buggy #one piece buggy #hey-august buggy fic

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dathomirdumpsterfire · 11 months

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who's ready for more king of the dragonfish??? 🔥

Want to be on the tag list? Have an idea for next chapter? Clicked the wrong option? Reblog or Comment! New? Start 👇🏽here to catch up. Chapter 3 is down below the cut.

@obimaulartfire @savageopressbignaturals

(Art by Obimaulartfire! Check out the full cut on their blog, or at the end of chapter 1.)

-Chapter Three-

Maul cackles when the jedi goes limp in his hold. Weak. Defeated. Submissive. Oh, what a beautiful thing it is!

He dumps the other man onto his ass and retreats to the water's edge, nearly euphoric. "Enjoy your prison, Kenobi. I hope you find it very comfortable."

Blue eyes glare at him from the floor, but it only delights him further. Maul rolls backwards on slippery black scales, and disappears into the water.

It is time to let the jedi stew in his dwindling hope. Maul intends to find ways to give it back to him... and take it... and give it... and take it. The perfect game, endless amusement until he decides it is time to break the jedi for good.

He swims gracefully through the cave system, almost dancing through the water in his delight. Maul heads for open seas and the room to move. There is a geyser field not far off, with luminous magma flows on the sea floor which make for warm currents and good hunting. The perfect place to plan his next move.

Kenobi, Kenobi, Kenobi… how to keep a Kenobi? To keep him bloody, barely mobile? To keep him starved, begging for food? To keep him... or to kill him?

Oh, ohhhh, how good it would feel to plunge his claws into the jedi's guts, to tear his liver from him and eat it while he watches, hopeless and dying. The very idea is enough to give Maul the chills.

But only… only once. He can only kill Kenobi once.

It would not do to rush the finale, he thinks. Killing him too quickly would only rob Maul of his due, and spare him the full spread of his just desserts.

The dragonfish sith rides the thermals of the magma field, and tries to focus through his own crazed glee enough to plan. Enough to think through logistics.

How best to keep a Kenobi?

First, containment.

The caves were his home, winding tunnels with multiple air pockets, rooms as big as a cargo bay and as small as a closet. It had always been a boon that some sections went closer to the surface… but did they go too close? How far could a force user go without breathing? He isn't sure, anymore. Some knowledge from his old life is simply gone, decomposed during the process of his rebirth.

He would have to get Kenobi to admit to his own limits.

Hmmm… perhaps putting something the jedi wants into a cave not far from the empty room he was stuck in, and encouraging him to go to it? Then another thing, a little further away. He could see how much effort it took…

Yes, a test. He could design a test. That would do. Later.

What else? …food. Yes, food was important.

Maul snatches a blind eel fish from the rocks, and considers it thoughtfully before tearing it's head off with his teeth. Could Kenobi eat eel? Crab? Can jedi live off the sea as he does? Could their weak stomachs process raw fish? This knowledge is also missing, and what personal references he has to compare it with are spoiled by dint of his original species. Zabrak were obligate carnivores. He is still an obligate carnivore. Unhelpful.

But would a hungry jedi admit what he wanted to eat? Maul could even frame it as a kindness, to keep him off base. Room service in prison, what luxury!

He rolls over in the water, laughing silent bubbles that catch the green glow of his eyes and scatter it. The light attracts a school of small, clear fish. He plucks one from the stream of them and pops it in his mouth like an hors d'oeuvre.

What else, what else…

Containment, nourishment… hm. Maul struggles to think of what else a prisoner might need to survive. Perhaps more will come to him later? He will think on it again. In the meantime, he will go back to Kenobi. Watch him, and see if he tries to escape, to wander, or to get into Maul's private cave. There are weapons there, and he will not be allowed such things.

With sufficient plans for the time being, the dragonfish sith returns, drifting into the water of the prison cave slowly, stealthily. He rises up in a shadowy corner so that only his eyes and ears are above the water line.

The jedi is still there. He is pacing, holding a wristcomm up to his mouth and speaking into it.

"This is jedi master Obi-Wan Kenobi. If anyone hears this message, please contact the temple on Coruscant and inform them that I am trapped underwater in a cave system off the coast of Theed. Tell them Darth Maul lives. You will be rewarded for the effort. Please."

Kenobi draws in a breath, turns to take another lap of the space, and begins again. "This is jedi master Obi-Wan Kenobi…"

Maul covers his mouth with a hand, holding in the snickering that wants to escape and give his position away.

Oh how fun! The fool thinks a little wristcomm has enough signal strength to be heard through leagues of water and stone. Grinning, he sits and watches the other man uselessly call for help, making bets with himself on how long the hope would linger in those blue eyes, how many repetitions it would be before Kenobi gave up begging to empty ocean.

He gets to seventy four repeats before the jedi sits down on a rock, elbows on his knees. One hand holds up his forehead, while the other bears up the comm device to his mouth. At a hundred and sixteen loops his voice trails off, scratchy, and then he falls silent.

Maul slides through the water, going down and under, then coming back up in a pool close to the jedi's left side. He puts effort into stealth, setting his arms on the shore and putting his chin down on them.

There, he waits to be noticed.

Minutes tick by in a pleasant daze. Kenobi sits before him, bent and broken, hope for rescue leaking from him like a cracked glass. Maul watches the man, tail swishing in the water, and thinks he could do this for years. Just sit, and bear witness to Kenobi's growing misery.

The jedi coughs. The dragonfish sith frowns.

Kenobi coughs again, dragging a hand down his pale face.

He is falling ill? Already? Maul scowls ferociously. He is weak! Already he is dying? No! No!

The jedi can only die when he allows it, and not before!

His tail slaps the water in agitation, and they both freeze. The sith quickly wipes all expression from his face, relaxing back onto his forearms as Kenobi turns to look at him.

"Back again, I see," the man says grimly. "Come to kill me?"

Maul grins at him, ever cheered by the idea. The man looks at his mouth and grimaces, seemingly put off by all his excellent teeth.

"Did your allies not return your calls, jedi? What a shame... perhaps they do not want you anymore?" he says, in the tone of a sympathetic confidant. "Do not fret, I will keep you."

"Or you could not," the man suggests dryly. "What worth could I possibly have to you, except for dead?"

Maul laughs at his naivete. "Tell me Kenobi, what do you eat?"

The jedi turns on his rock to face Maul. "Are you taking special requests? Because I would trade my shirt for a shadwa club sandwich right now."

The sith snorts, "Think seafood, imbecile."

Kenobi looks at him, really looks at him, and Maul finds himself compelled to roll his tail, showing off the translucent blue fins and the pretty dots that line him.

He blinks, confused as to where that inclination had come from.

"You're intending to keep me alive then?" the jedi asks.

Maul refocuses, his grin returning as he drags himself up out of the water. He gathers the length of himself beneath his torso and sways closer. "Yesss, jedi. You are here to suffer. You may only know the privilege of death when I am satisfied with my revenge."

Kenobi looks up at him from under long, damp eyelashes, assessing. "I truly doubt you can keep me alive, sith. This cave of yours will run out of oxygen sooner rather than later. I'm already burning through energy trying to stay warm, because everything is wet and freezing cold. I am actively healing myself to handle the pressure acclimation, and I cannot continue for long without a place to rest that won't simply result in hypothermia. Besides, what am I to drink? Saltwater? Hah."

Maul leans back on his tail, brow furrowing.

The jedi stands to meet him, crossing his arms. "I'll be dead in hours at worst, days at best, so you had better decide between watching me asphyxiate, killing me yourself, or letting me go before it happens."

Maul gnashes his teeth in agitation, clawing at the force for answers. No. No! Hours? His revenge cannot end in hours! He has dreamed of it for years!

"Well?" Kenobi asks, droll, "What's it going to be, hmm? Murder or mercy?"

He hisses, "Shut up! I am thinking."

The jedi simply watches him, calm, leaning back on one hip.

Maul flexes his hands, clawed fingers clenching and unclenching. "You will not run out of air. It is always fresh here. Cold… cold. Water. Wetness. Cold. Water." He mutters to himself, thinking of solutions, then raises his chin. "What is most fatal to you, jedi? Which of these threats would steal you away from me first?"

Kenobi looks away, and for a moment it seems as if he's considering the consequences of silence… but then those blue eyes come back around. "The cold. I need to warm up, or my heart will give out."

The dragonfish sith mentally chews on that. He seems warm, to himself, but what temperature is that? Hm. The only thing also warm to him down here are the magma flows… but perhaps their gift could be borrowed?

"I will return," he says, and flips himself back into the water.

Maul swims out to the same field, sinking down and hunting until he finds a brightly lit geyser. The small mountain glows luminous and orange at the core, so hot that even the frigid seawater cannot temper it.

Cautiously, the sith reaches out with the force, pulling on a chunk of molten stone as big as he is. The magma is slippery and uncooperative, but he is determined and far more powerful than mere rock. He pulls a ball of it up and out of the geyser, pushing it through the water and away from the mount by the force.

As it rises the edges cool, becoming a black shell that belies the burning within. Once it is raised high he approaches, finding that it is too hot to touch, but pleasant to be near. Perfect.

Very pleased with himself, Maul swims back to the caves, fighting with the ball to get it through the winding corridor. At one point he has to set the black shell down and batter at an outcropping to make way. When approaching Kenobi's cave, he must also take care to keep the rock from touching the plants and burning their air-giving leaves and light shedding mosses.

He rises from the water perhaps half an hour after leaving. The jedi is in one corner, looking miserable and damp.

What a delightful thing to return to.

Maul drags the magma ball up into the room with the force, where it takes up space at the center. After a moment, steam begins to waft off the surface.

"What in the blazes is that?" asks the jedi, rising to his feet.

Maul points at it, preening, "Warm."

#chat writes the plot #the live feature we actually wanted #star wars #darth maul #sith #dathomir #maul opress #zabrak #nightbrothers #obi wan kenobi #obimaul #obiwan kenobi #Obi-Wan #obiwan #king of the dragonfish #flash fiction #naboo #monster!maul #jedi

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angled-blade · 2 years

Text

Six Steps or Less.

Pairing(s): Bubba Sawyer/Reader

Warning(s): Vulgar language, detailed depiction of violence & murder.

Additional: 5,099 words. Written in 2nd POV [You/Your]. Storyline is set a few years before the first movie, Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974).

It was Bubba who got used to you first, seeing how he had been the one responsible for you ending up in the Sawyer home in the way you did.

Of course, it took a lot of begging (most of it being ignored) for the eldest Sawyer to even consider keeping what was supposed to be food alive of all things.

—

“Agh—Fine, ya’ blubberin’ idiot!” The sharp tone in his elder brother’s voice kept him at a standstill. Bubba’s attention flickers toward the direction of Drayton’s. His rambling did not seem to stop despite Drayton’s yell, irritating him further in the process. “Stop yer damn squabblin’ and keep that thing away someplace where I can’t see ’em! Oh, fer God’s sake, would it kill fer ya’ to think fer yerself!?” Drayton hollered, his hand reaching for the broom handle. Bubba was quick to move, securing you in his arms as he dashed upstairs, much to your distress. He’s opened the door with a grunt, carelessly dropping you onto a worn out mattress, Bubba’s dark eyes focusing on your helpless cries. With a shake of his head, he unravelled the rope that he planned to use for the furniture with Nubbins’ help.

Having a captive person in his own room, let alone tying them up, was very much unplanned, if his trembling hands failed to show it. Bubba whines, grabbing at your wrists with one hand and tied them together with the other. He made sure the ropes weren’t too tight nor were they too loose—he’s seen the nasty bruising it leaves and that it’s “a sight for sore eyes”, according to Choptop. Backing away with a few steps, he clicks his tongue before tapping your cheek as an attempt to grab your attention. Not that he was expecting it, seeing how disorientated you seem now that the situation appeared to sink in for you. Your terror appeared to end as swiftly once he had you in his room. Your gaze trailed onto him, your chest heaving as you dare not make a sound in his presence.

You found your body becoming limp—and it had you falling from the bed, much to Bubba’s horror. He held onto you, reducing any chance for you to be harmed any further. He’s squealing now, rising slowly to rest you atop the mattress once again before leaving the room. Shutting the door behind him, he heads downstairs to eat the dinner he has prepared for his family.

Bubba ate dinner as usual, though his sheepishness is evermore present as he casts nervous glances toward the hallway where the stairs were.

—

You didn’t know how you got here, laid on an exhausted mattress that has most definitely endured its residents, some springs exposed with it poking out from the linen.

You doubted you could run, especially knowing that there was more than one occupant in the house you are currently in. Who knew if running away was even possible anymore—with that man who grabbed at you and lifted you up as if you weighed nothing. You remembered him, oh so vividly. Hell, you watched as he viciously sawed down the rest of your friends. You don’t even know what you even said to get out of the situation, but you sure as hell remembered that it was a stupid idea you tore out within a few seconds of his arrival.

A helpless tug, if you will, at the humanity he might have had—treating him nicely in exchange for freedom—an attempt that you initially doubted would work with the brutality he had previously committed before your very eyes. Much to your surprise, he let you go. You didn’t stop to question it, breaking out into a sprint as you ran far from what you presumed was his territory. You didn’t dare look back, fearing that he had changed his mind and gone after you. Soon, you’d be at home, away from the horrors. It was most likely trespassing—but you were no person to speculate and investigate yourself. You prayed that his act of mercy was permanent, reliving the horrors of your slain friends as if it were a broken record. It had only been a few days after that incident—you supposed you should have expected his return for you. With individuals capable of murder, you should have looked at the gift horse in the mouth—just what were you thinking? No serial killer would leave a victim to possibly run away and rat on their existence, that was stupid to assume. You braced for the chilling pull at the starter and the screaming whir of the chainsaw coming to life.

What you didn’t expect, however, was the fact that there were other killers involved. One of them who had broken into your home to finish what they started.

It was all such a blur, feeling scrawny hands grab at your neck and mouth, a man’s voice cheering loudly as he slammed your head against the dining table you were sitting by. “Ooh, took me sum’ time to get to you~u.” His voice slurred and was almost incomprehensive, but you could imagine the grin behind his words. “I can see why Bubs’ got so held up over ya’! You look like someone who can run real good. Now…—” a hand of his gripped your wrists tightly. “I’m draggin’ you back with your friends. Now, don’t struggle. It’ll be real easy for the both o’ us.”

There really was no point in him talking to you, seeing how he knocked you out right after.

With only a few glimpses that you had amidst the throbbing that seemed to shoot through your skull.

—

With the little bits of consciousness you clung onto desperately, you were disadvantaged temporarily with sight, though you were lucky enough to hear. You heard two voices—albeit, they were muffled. They seemed hushed, but you didn’t know for sure.

“... Dray… look a… wha’ I fou…!”

“I said I …’t wanna see anymore o’ yer … finds!”

The voices seem to grow louder with each passing second, two pairs of footsteps nearing you.

“You got lucky wit’ one, huh. Ain’t that right, ya’ halfwit?” This man’s voice sounded eerily similar to gravel, the tone of his voice poorly masking the underlying threat and hidden malice that he most definitely had. You rubbed away the built up discharge from your eyes, hoping to catch a better look of who was talking.

“This one’s the one that got away from Bubba! Ran real good, I tell you.” There was that voice again, though now you had a physical description to pair with it. He looked to be unhinged, a proud grin over his face as he finished speaking. His hair was a mess and untidy. There was also a huge red mark on his right cheek, though you didn’t feel as daring to ask about it.

“That thing o’er there? Guess yer wandering ain’t as useless as it been back then—” You watched the other man, who seemed significantly older than the one who kidnapped you, walk toward a metal door before pounding against it loudly. His previously neutral expression quickly turned into a scowl.

“Get yer ass outta ’ere, Bubba!” He yelled, pounding against the metal door once more. That’s where you heard a third pair of footsteps, said pair that was extremely familiar with every thump in each step taken. You froze in your place, fear settling in your entire being as the door slid open, revealing the looming figure of the killer who had previously set you free a few days prior. His perplexed gaze turned into one of mortification once it landed onto you. It seemed he didn’t expect to see you again either. One thing you realised was that he didn’t start making noises as he did that very night. You found yourself almost surprised before your ears were invaded with the terrified scream that escaped from the killer you now learnt the name of. You trembled with the loud cacophony of voices intertwining and overlapping one another—despite the fact that the attention no longer was on you.

—

The voices died down with only Bubba’s frantic squabbling, the only one remaining, Nubbins was sent outside as per Drayton’s order. Something about leaving the ‘important things’ to him. The younger man left, not before he blew raspberries.

“Just what are ya tryin’ ta do, ya big lug?” Drayton hissed, his voice unravelling the disorganised chaos that was Bubba’s feelings, resulting in said pleas to turn into harrowing screams. The youngest Sawyer began frantically waving about his arms and using a plethora of unintelligible hand gestures, his gaze settled on your figure as a means to emphasise whatever case he’s had. He was frantic in his movement, stepping in front of you. You don’t know whether or not it was a good thing—him shielding you from the already angered Drayton.

—

You returned to consciousness, finding yourself still laid across the worn out bed. Nothing seemed to have happened to you, from what you could see. No new marks had been made against your skin, much to your own surprise. You expected to wake up delirious, with your body sawed in half—just like how he did your friends. The stench in the room you were in at the moment didn’t seem too strong in comparison to the room downstairs, where that older guy and your kidnapper had you in—the smell of blood and flesh awfully prominent.

A few moments pass by fairly quickly before you hear the familiar footsteps nearing the door to the bedroom.

Thump.

Thump..

You feared not for your safety—you already knew you would be at their mercy—but for your demise to not be long and humiliating.

Thump.

You froze in position, your body overtaken with terror as a hand grabbed at the door knob. Slowly, the knob was twisted with a soft creak. Cautious eyes peered in through the small crack, confused gibberish bubbling from the throat of the hulking man. You noticed that his hands were occupied, his foot nudging the door open before he stepped inside. On one hand, he held onto a plate of what you presumed were sausage, paired with eggs and vegetables. The other held a fork. He used his foot once more to drag a wooden chair to the side of the bed—the side that you were on—huffs escaped him. Taking a seat, the killer was quick to stab the sausage and hold it up to you. He taps the tip of your lower lip with the sausage, leaving you to realise that he was attempting to feed you. Your fear is what held you in place, leaving you only to obediently bite down. The killer coos excitedly, his voice a calm rumble—a stark contrast to the screams and wails that would have erupted from him that you have seen each time you’ve met him. He continued to feed you until the plate was empty. He left right after, shutting the door closed.

You supposed this was a means to prolong your death a little longer. There really was no other choice for you, leaving you to only play along with this disconcerting game of house.

—

Bubba felt his stomach fluttering with butterflies at your newfound compliance, assuming that this obedience is due to you accepting the situation as it was. You didn’t seem to scream—That meant you understood, right? Oh, Bubba’s excited. Sure, it was a little frightening at first. He never quite expected to see the victim he let go last time to reappear before him again—he honestly expected you to keep running as you did back then. He’s back downstairs now, scrubbing the plate that he brought out for you with a damp cloth.

He wonders what you thought of him, now that you had met his immediate family. The first time around, you called him very nice things in that soft, lilting tone you used—that was what got his attention and ultimately had him sparing you. You never once stooped as low as your friends did with their taunting words regarding his appearance or demeanour. You complimented him, without your body wavering in fear or it shivering with disgust as you spoke. He noted how genuine you were in complimenting his appearance, as if it were as true as grass being the colour green. Nevertheless, you struck a chord within him. Your comments had you appear kind and nonjudgmental—two traits that are very difficult to find amongst people, including his family, even! Bubba doesn’t know if it was a spur of the moment, or maybe he isn’t quite used to all sorts of people yet—but he’s gotten quite attached.

He finds himself a little more comfortable with you, which has him desiring more of the positive feeling. He isn’t sure how he feels about this predicament himself, seeing how it has never happened to him before—and if he ever did, he would have definitely remembered it. Bubba only hopes that you stick around long enough to have him understanding such a confusing emotion.

—

Time has passed by then. You stopped counting after the fourth week in captivity, seeing how you yourself knew that there was no point in escaping. Everything remained the same, with the routine that you endured every morning to consume breakfast that had been prepared. Despite the fact that it was a cycle of living you were getting used to, you had also been allowed more freedom—it was having permission to move around freely in the house. It had been permitted by Drayton, due to him ‘getting tired’ of Bubba’s pleas to do so, though he allowed it for other reasons as well.

“Fine! Yer gonna be able to trot ’bout in this home o’ ours, but I expect ya ta pull yer weight in ’ere—How’s cleanin’ the house and fixin’ up the laundry fer us sound?”

You did not hesitate in accepting Drayton’s offer, the prospects of being able to enjoy an aspect of freedom a much needed desire to indulge in. Anything other than being cooped up in that bedroom, please. A breath of fresh air would work too in easing your mind and processing all that has happened. Perhaps you could also use the stored aside energy to put into the chores assigned by Drayton, taking advantage of it as an outlet to distract yourself from all that was distressful. You could use it as a way to figure out escape this place but you honestly gave up on the idea altogether, seeing how distance does not deter the Sawyers from finding you. Even if you did, you’d know the next time you cross paths with even one of them—which seems inevitable—your fate would be sealed.

Here you were, seated down on the back porch of the Sawyer home, a metal bucket filled with soapy water and a wicker basket filled to the brim with multiple articles of clothing. You grabbed out one of the large button up shirts from the pile of clothes. It was one of Bubba’s, seeing how it was dirtier than the others with the blood splattered all across it. You find yourself annoyed with the caked blood, cursing quietly at it as you scrub the shirt clean. Speaking of Bubba, you learned a lot more about the man the longer you lived with him. That of itself was a development you never quite expected, let alone accept in the way you did. Never would you have imagined things would turn out as smoothly as you had experienced. Despite crossing over the already frigid boundaries with your kidnapping—it appeared that Bubba seemed to respect you enough to not trample over ones that remained with you such as privacy. Adding further to it, you noticed that Bubba would get more nervous whenever you were near, his hands fumbling with whatever he held in his hands at that moment.

As time passed, you realised that you and Bubba became closer, whether you knew it or not. You recall being a lot more physically involved, patting his back as a praise on the good work and helping him out in the kitchen. You learnt of Bubba’s habits, quirks and personality, as he learnt about yours. You understood each other in a sense, though you find yourself fondly thinking of the man, as if you were—

You wringed the shirt from the water, washing away the previous thoughts you had about Bubba along with it. You returned to tending to the rest of the clothing, before heading out toward the direction of the clothesline. One by one, you hang the clothes with the additional help of wooden clothes pegs. You got to the last shirt, the very same one that had you transfixed and reflecting on your situation with the Sawyers. You hung it as well, though now your gaze on it was tense, your stomach bubbling with mixed feelings altogether. It’s already been more than a few weeks, yes, but you never once felt that fear that you held onto in the beginning. It was strange, feeling this belief of accepting this situation and assuming it a part of your normal lifestyle. You know that you should feel angry, perhaps feel more driven in getting away from the Sawyers and leave for good—

But where to, then? A small, naive voice in your heart questions, leaving you once again. To get help? Don’t humour yourself. Another seemed to scoff, taking advantage of your phlegmatic disposition as it crossed out the hopeful possibilities of escape. You’ve been here for so long, why didn’t you leave then? A separate train of thought disturbs you, leaving you with a feeling of confusion that seems to weigh heavy on your shoulders.

Why didn’t you try to leave? You couldn’t reason that you did so out of fear—it had been so clearly established that you had little fear left for yourself and safety. You couldn’t reason that there was no way out—you knew the Sawyers had their own routines to get to, and, with a little bit of effort, you could have left much earlier. Strangely enough, you found yourself perturbed with the fact that you felt a shred of guilt for even thinking of leaving the Sawyers. You felt even worse once you honed in on Bubba, your ‘bunkmate’—a tacit term loosely used in the context that you were in—had seemed to grow on you, as if he were a stray worming his way into your heart. You struggled to find words to describe what it was that you felt toward Bubba, but you knew that it was nothing close to resentment. Despite you having been a would-be-victim who had turned into ‘one of the Sawyers’, you found yourself caring for them, and even more with Bubba.

You realised much later on that you deeply cared for him; it did not matter whether or not Bubba knew.

You stumbled backwards, your hands tightly gripping the wicker basket. The sun appeared to set quickly, the orange hue transitioning slowly into a darker red. Not long after, you felt wet droplets gently hitting against your skin. It didn’t take long for you to infer that it would rain soon. You speedwalked back into the Sawyer home, setting the basket atop the bone decorated table that was by the back door. Soon enough, you hear the familiar footsteps of Drayton with Bubba following after; similar to a duckling, you joked to yourself.

To your surprise, it was Nubbins in place of Bubba. As if he knew what you were thinking, Drayton stifles a few of his own chuckles before he answers you.

“Bubba’s out handling food. No need ta’ worry so much about ’im. He can take care o’ himself just fine.” The eldest assured you, waving a hand to dispel any particular doubt you had settling in. You still worried for Bubba, it grew tenfold once you heard the soft pitter-patter of the rain outside intensifying into a thunderous shower. The atmosphere grew darker the longer you stared out the window, though, you made an attempt to quell your already tense demeanour.

The attempt was a waste of time, with a bloodcurdling scream belonging to a woman piercing through the heavy rainfall—in which her voice began to sound closer as seconds passed by. Pig squeals and apprehensive wails followed after, alerting you in an instant. While it is apparent that Bubba is returning home after all, something went awfully wrong to the extent that it led victims home, too.

Your body was now on autopilot, making quick work in moving toward the kitchen. Dominant hand grasped the wooden handle of the kitchen knife, just in time for you to hear the screams once more with frantic banging against the front door. In no time at all, a loud thud resounded through the house with the sound of the creaky door splitting open with a crack. Frenzied footsteps trample along the wooden floorboards, with you pressed against the wall opposite to the intruder inside the home. There were shaky intakes of breath now, the runaway gulping up the little comfort she had left in the sudden silence. You knew better, hearing the all too familiar pig squealing of Bubba’s as he makes his entrance, his chainsaw starting as well. It resumed the screaming, that was definite.

One thing that was not definite, however, was that the victim would retaliate just as violently. You didn’t see it, but you could hear her cry before Bubba could have the chainsaw up and running. It was Bubba’s turn to scream just as loudly, which had you leaving from your hidden spot behind the wall, providing you with a scene that intensified the mixed feelings you had all afternoon.

Bubba was incapacitated, his struggling form on the floor as he suffered the brunt force of the woman’s punches. His arms were in front of his face as a shield, blocking the punches. He was whining as loud as he could, the fear most prominent in his eyes now. The crackling of the thunder outside muffled the acts of violence committed.

You didn’t know what came over you, seeing how your apprehensive propensity quickly changed into a hot, unbearable feeling. The only palpable reaction you concluded from it was rage. Unfiltered, raw rage. You began to move into view, frightening Bubba in the process as he continued to struggle even more. You didn’t know if it were out of a fear of being hurt, you didn’t stop to care once you neared your target. You focused on the woman, hand gripping the handle firmly.

She stood up after she saw him trembling, beginning to kick his stomach as she yelled taunts in his direction. That’s when you made your move, you shoved her to the side—her back against the floor with you straddling her. She looked back, eyes widened in disbelief as she took in the sight of you. She directed her words toward you—words that seemed to be nothing but static as quick as they were said. You cut the woman’s screaming short with a knife through the neck. You retracted the knife and stabbed once again, through the heart this time. Closing your eyes shut, the screams stopped with a stillness in the atmosphere, as if time stopped for you as you took the moment to relax.

—

Bubba’s wails of sheer terror died down once he saw you on the other woman, though he quickly backed away from the scene, his wandering eyes switching from you onto her. When he saw you kill her, he felt his heart leap to his throat, rendering him unable to verbalise his reaction.

Did he see that correctly? Did you really kill that girl? You protected him—you killed to protect him? Oh, that fluttering feeling is back and it is even more overwhelming than before. He’s felt it before whenever you doted on him with that sweet smile of yours, or when you said ‘Goodnight’ with your back turned to him as you slept—you appeared to trust him wholly, which had his chest feeling awfully fuzzy. He knew he was attracted to you physically and toward the gentle kindness you exuded to him and his family on a day to day basis. This time felt different to him, with the feelings from simple attraction transitioning into something far deeper than he could comprehend himself. Bubba couldn’t help but stare at you, confused thoughts racing through his mind, though the moment was short lived once he heard Drayton.

Heavy footsteps sounded through the house, Drayton emerged from the stairs. Irritation was present across his face as he made his way in the living room.

“Fer God’s sake! What in the hell’s goin’ on ’ere!? Yer gonna get in a whole lot o’ trouble if that’s the last thing I’d do—” Drayton’s words fall short, met with the sight of you two. Bubba finds himself immediately replying to his brother with stuttered blubbering, getting up shakily as his muscles ached in response to the sudden movement. He hoped that you weren’t going to be punished, seeing how it was his fault for not handling the victim sooner.

“Well… I’ll be damned. If that ain’ no sign of ’em bein’ a Sawyer, I don’t know what is.”

Bubba stopped in his tracks at Drayton’s words. He tilted his head slightly, confusion overtaking his thoughts. What did he mean?

“...Go and get ’em up in the room, go and settle yer feelings with ’em then.” Drayton pauses and Bubba prepares himself for the worst—perhaps he’s getting punished after getting you back in bed. He doesn’t know it, but he’s sure it isn’t going to be good— “I’ll handle the mess ’ere.”

“That thing’s a worrywart fer ya’. Yer noggin’s empty as hell if ya’ can’t even see it with it right in yer stupid face.” Drayton scoffed at the youngest as he answered him. Though his stern expression untensed a smidgen as he glanced back at you.

Bubba blinked in surprise, though seeing Drayton’s face morph back into anger, he stumbled toward you as if he were a baby lamb. It was enough to snap you from spacing out, your gaze now relaxed when you realised it was Bubba staring back at you. Bubba found himself believing in the fact that he loved you as he did so.

—

He ushered you from the living room, and back into his bedroom. You seated yourself on the mattress, Bubba was on the chair. The very same chair that he sat on from the beginning, when Nubbins took you.

Despite his attempts on shielding you away from seeing the aftermath, the blood on your hands was enough of a story that told you what you did.

“I killed someone.” You began, voice strangely emotionless as the words left your mouth.

Yes, you did. He attempted to articulate, garbled speech came out instead as he nodded. He didn’t get why you needed to remind yourself about it.

“I just fucking killed someone. I—I’m.. I'm a terrible—Oh... Oh god.” You rambled to yourself out loud, breath now turning shaky and laboured once the realisation settled in. Bubba panics.

Don’t say that! You aren’t terrible! You killed, yes, but you did it to protect him! Bubba sees you tear up for the first time in a long while, and panics further. Why are you crying? You did it for a good reason—Are those that are family not supposed to protect one another? Bubba tries to speak to dispel the panic that he’s sure that you were feeling, but to no avail.

Bubba began to whimper, feeling hopeless as he instinctively wrapped his arms around you. He doesn’t know what else to do. Much to his surprise, you seemed to cling onto him in response. You began to sob openly into his shoulder, the scent of iron invading your nose, though you ignored it in exchange for the needed physical affection Bubba provides. In your perspective, it seemed that the hug was Bubba’s way to say that it’s okay. That made you all the more emotional, to know he still stayed despite what you did. You realised that this spike in emotion was also due to your feelings for him, one that you sealed aside to survive.

You realised early on that there wasn’t any need for you to survive with how easily you got used to the Sawyer life, so much so that you only needed to learn how to live. The longer you stayed with Bubba, the stronger the feelings you had for him, and the more difficult it became to set it aside as you did before—as if doing so was mocking your pathetic excuse for ‘survival’. You kept making excuses as a mediocre way to hide what was already clear to you. You found yourself backed against a wall, though the prospects of being truthful appearing easier for you to do now.

Tears still streamed down your cheeks as well as your voice now sounding shaky and choked up, but you made an attempt. You breathed heavily to stabilise yourself and form your thoughts more fluidly.

“Bubba—... Bubba.” you whispered softly. He leans back, his bovine eyes staring back at yours. You could see the worry and concern he held for you, it was genuine and pure; all of it, it seems, was reserved for you. You had your answer, seeing it for yourself. There was no reason to hide away with another excuse like you did all the other times. Acknowledging your feelings as they were, you leant forward once more.

“I love you, Bubba.” you uttered, tears now endless at your admittance. “I love you so, so much.” You feared his reaction to your words, with many of your thoughts now assuming the worst. You trembled at the lack of response, though your thoughts did not have the time to settle once you felt Bubba’s thumb near your face. He wiped away the tears as gently as he could, before holding you close to his chest once more. Bubba squeals excitedly, a hand of his now cradling your head. Throughout the display of affection provided, Bubba decided to take it one step further. It didn’t take long for you to feel the gentle kiss he gave to the crown of your head.

With that, you were sure of his feelings for you now. It was as strong as it did for you.

You were his, as much as he was yours.

Fun fact; The title is actually a part of the planning to write the story! I won’t bore you with the details, haha.

It has been a while since I tried my hand in writing long, self insert pieces. I hope it is comprehensive as much as I could possibly can in conveying it for you all.

Thanks for reading and happy holidays!! (:

#bubba sawyer x reader #bubba sawyer x you #texas chainsaw massacre x reader #texas chainsaw massacre x you #slasher x reader #slasher x you

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 2 years

Note

Hey! Hopefully you’ll see this when you get back from hiatus And I hope you enjoyed your holidays! I was hoping to get Gentle Giant! Jason cuddling with reader and readers giving him a lot of praise, scratching his hair and he’s so turned on and blissed out at once he doesn’t even realize he’s lightly grinding on her leg?

Home.

You were finally home. In his apartment. Where he could make room for you and keep you safe. Where he wouldn't have to worry if you were warm enough, eating enough, or remembering to lock your doors.

And for the first time since he put you on the plane, he felt like he was home. He didn't have any thoughts. Nothing but the feel of your nails scratching absently at his scalp. Boneless and limp with pleasure as he draped himself around you.

"What's the matter, baby?" you breathe, "not loved up enough?" His hips are moving, dragging his prick against your thigh as he moans softly in your ear.

You hum wordlessly and relax, letting him enjoy this- enjoy the comfort he could take from being in your arms. "Look at you," you tut, "So fucking pretty like this, Jay."

Jason buried his face in the crook of your neck and smiled, nipping the tender skin of your shoulder. "My big boy," you croon. "So horny for me."

"Feels good," he panted.

"I bet it does," you hum. "Having that huge cock being hard so hard probably hurts-"

He moaned wordlessly and rutted against you. "Hurts," he agreed. He could feel himself getting to a redline. He had a distant thought that he should stop. That he should quit before he comes down your leg like a dog. But he can't.

You need a break- getting too sore for the kind of lovemaking you enjoy the most. He'd put some ice on you gently. But Jason was ready. He needed more. Even if he felt like an animal. He should be able to wait but- the feel of your nails on his scalp and the gentle tone of your voice made him practically want to roll over and beg you to rub his belly.

"Fuck," he whined, "Cutie I-" And before he could pull back, he felt his balls tighten and a warm stain of his come spurt down your leg, leaving him panting and clinging to you. "Sorry- I- shit-"

"S'okay, baby," you hum, kissing his head, "We're gonna have to change the sheets anyway-"

"Yeah we are," he breathed, reaching between your thighs to rub the icepack against your sex gently. "Think you're sore now?" he teased. "That little cunt is gonna be so full of my come you're not gonna be able to hold it all."

"Kiss it better?" you ask innocently.

And Jason grinned, "So many kisses, cutie. So many kisses." And when you shiver in want, he moves the ice pack and kisses down your body. The taste of sweat and sex on your skin making him dizzy. And when he laid on his belly between your thighs, lowering his head to feather the first kiss against your delicate folds, your answering sigh of bliss makes his heart sing.

#Jason Todd #Jason Todd x reader #gentle giant!jason #ask answered #minors dni #thirst trap thursday

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madisonshoneybun · 2 years

Text

Animagus

Warnings - None (besides bad writing)

Pairing - Newt Scamander x Reader

Summary - Your an animagus. Your looking for food when Newt finds you. You seem hurt so he decides he wants to take care of you. How long will it take before he realizes your actually a witch?

A/N - I am seriously BEGGING for ideas. I’m so bad at coming up with ideas on my own but I want to write so bad. So if you have an idea please let me know. I’m also wanting to write about Theseus cause he is also the best.

Words - 1907

_____________________________________________________

My parents always wanted me to be an animagus. I wanted to too. I thought it would be really fun to see what animal or creature I would be. When I was little it was more of a fun dream but the older I got the more my parents pushed. They wanted me to be something powerful. They were rooting for a magical beast but said as a last resort they’d be happy with some sort of strong animal. Like a big cat. It’s almost like they cursed me because I ended up being just that... a cat. A literal fucking house cat. They were furious. They refused to let me out of the house and told me that

“If you were cursed to be something so weak, then stay that way!”

I was “forced” to live as a cat. I say “forced” because it wasn’t like they told me I had to be a cat to stay, they would just beat me if they ever saw me as who I actually was. So I thought the better of two evils was to just stay as a cat. There was no where I could go. It was fine for a while. They didn’t treat me the best as a cat either but it was better than the beatings. But one day everything changed.

I was out an about in the neighborhood trying to find food. I was rummaging through trash cans trying to just find anything. Even crumbs would be enough. The night before I got the bright idea to try to take a normal shower, seeing as neither of my parents were home. I cleaned myself really well cause I genuinely had no idea when I would be able to do this again but as soon as I walked out of the bathroom, my father was standing there, belt in hand. I’m sure you could guess what happened next.

Now I was hurt, dirty from the rain, and just so fucking hungry. And I was having no luck with finding any food.

I wonder what I should do?

I continued to look through trash cans, limping along as I went. But still nothing. I finally decided to give up when I heard someone behind me making clicking sounds with their mouth. I turned around, standing my ground. My fur was standing up and I was trying my best to look around and find a way to escape.

The man before me had brown curly hair and bright green eyes. They felt like home... but I was too scared to trust it. This man thought I was a cat, he had no idea I was actually a witch. And I had no idea if he was a wizard.

He crotched down and held out a can of tuna. I glanced at him and then at the tuna. He followed my eyes and slowly pushed it towards me. It was in the middle of us and he took a couple steps back to give me room. I didn’t want to put myself in danger but I was just so anger. I made small steps towards the food.

“It’s alright love, I wont hurt you...” He sounded so genuine that I just had to believe. I took the final step and went to the food, chowing it down as fast as I could. I wanted to eat it and get out of there.

I was so focused on eating that I hadn’t noticed him inching towards me until I felt his hand on top of my head. I jumped, backing away and hissed loudly. He looked somewhat shocked by my reaction. “I’m sorry!” He moved back a bit more. No one had ever tried to make me feel this safe before. If I was being honest with myself, I’d pretend to be a cat for the rest of my life if it meant I could be loved. And for a second, it seemed like he wanted to help me, so I gave in.

I slowly walked closer to him. Smelling the food as I walked passed it but deciding I wanted to see what he wanted. If he was only here to hurt me I could just turn back into a witch and scare the life out of him. No one would believe him otherwise. Once I got closer he sat down completely and I rubbed against his sleep. “Hello darling. Do you forgive me for earlier?”

I meowed in response and rubbed myself against his back before crawling into his lap. He slowly brought his hand down and began to pet me. It was soothing. But even slightly touch made my cuts and bruises hurt. He noticed me flinching. “Are you hurt?”

I rubbed into him more while he tried to look me over. “Why don’t I get you patched up? You don’t seem to have a collar... are you a stray?” I just kept purring. Since he had no idea I was a living person, he gently picked me up. I thought he was going to take me back to his house but instead he opened up a suit case. For a second, I thought he was going to smother me inside it or something but sitting in his arms looking down I could actually see a whole other world inside his case. He’s a wizard.

He held me close as he went down the ladder. He was so gentle with me, so gentle in fact that I almost felt like I was going to fall asleep. Once inside his case he used his free hand to grab a pillow then laid me down onto of it. His fingers were so light to the touch that I could hardly even feel them while he checked what was wrong.

“Looks like someone didn’t like you going through their trash? They beat you pretty bad but nothing seems to be broken. You have few cuts that I can put some cream on. What am I going to do with you?” He was mostly mumbling to himself as he looked around for the cream he mentioned. Once he found it he made sure to hold me down as the cream began to burn. I hissed and jumped from his grasp, making a break for the only door I could see. He followed straight behind.

Outside the door were dozens of different creatures. It was like a giant zoo. I didn’t even bother running around, too scared one of them might have an appetite for cats.

“You not a magical creature so I don’t know if you’ll have much fun here.” He said walking towards me. He took my into his arms and pet me like I was his own.

After that Newt look me to London and let me stay in his home. He told me I wasn’t allowed downstairs because it was dangerous, so I listened. I bet he thought I was just a really obedient cat. I could tell straight away that he knew more about magical creatures rather than boring plain animals. But that wasn’t to say he’d neglect a non-magical creature. It just meant that he didn’t really know much about them which I think helped in not being figured out.

Sometimes Newt would even invite friends over. Two sisters and one of their husbands. I tried my best to stay away from them, especially when Jacob said he thought I acted weird for a cat. But one day his brother came over.

I was laying on the couch when he arrived, completely unannounced mind you. He just walked in the front door. His eyes instantly locked with mine for a moment causing me to stand up on all four. I hissed and ran to hide under a chair. I could see that he was just standing front of the closed door. I peeked and he was again, looking straight at me. I felt a chill run down my spin. Did he know? Why was he staring at me like that if he didn’t?

Eventually he broke eye contact and made his way to the basement. I felt my heart pounding in my chest. I needed to leave, he knew I wasn’t a real cat. What was Newt going to when he found out some random witch had been living under his roof for almost 3 months? I hadn’t met any witches or wizards in so long that I completely forgot how they might react. Before I could make a break for the door, Newt and his brother were making there way into the room.

Again, his brother’s eyes met mine. “Newt, why do you have a cat?”

Newt’s glanced over and me and chuckled. “She was hurt and hungry so I took her in. She’s not good with strangers.”

His brother grabbed Newt by the arm and dragged him into a separate room.

fuck, fuck fuck!

I was too scared to move a muscle. Maybe if I just played dumb Newt wouldn’t believe him. I jumped once the two brothers came back into the room. They rushed in like the place was on fire. The oldest holding his wand towards where I was and the youngest slowly making his way over to me, not a wand in sight.

“Come out please. I just want to check something.”

I began to growl and hiss the closer he got. I’m gonna fucking die. This is the end. “Newt stay back.” He didn’t listen.

“She’s harmless and if she’s what you think she it, I’m sure we could just talk it out. Right?”

He was on all fours, bent down, looking under the chair and directly into my eyes. The gentleness I’d always seen in him was there. And again, it made me trust him.

I crawled out from under the chair, moving towards the couch.

In an instant I was sitting on the couch, fully back to who I really was. Newt hardly reacted, while his brother kept his wand drawn. I felt myself begin to shake as I tried to sink into myself and try to come off as small as possible. “I’m sorry...” I whispered, glancing up to meet Newt’s eyes.

“I had nowhere to do and I was hungry... At first I thought you were going to feed me and leave or patch me up and send me on my way but you were so nice that I couldn’t tell you the truth. I thought about telling you everyday but I didn’t know how...” The oldest put down his wand and made his way into the kitchen, while Newt sat beside me.

“You could’ve told me. I could’ve help you.” I nodded my head, feeling guilty.

“Your a good man...” He chuckled a bit. “I should’ve known. It always felt like you were really listening to what I was saying. And you always did what you were told.” A giggle escaped your lips.

“You are the man of the house after all.”

He put his hand on mine, making me flinch and quickly look up at him. “I’ll help you and you can get back on your feet.” I never thought I would meet someone like him. He was so kind and gentle, so down to earth and honest. It made my heart flutter. I was so happy to have met him but... in a way, I was sad that one day we might part. I hoped, that even after he’s given me all the help me can give, that we can stay friends. He truly saved my life.

- Masterlist -

#newt scamander #newt scamander x reader #newt scamander x you #newt scamander x y/n #fantastic beasts and where to find them #fantastic beasts crimes of grindelwald #fantastic beasts secrets of dumbledore #fbawtft #animingus #theseus scamander

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tteokdoroki · 4 years

Text

saccahrine sundays | k.bakugou

♡ pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 5.3K

♡ rating: mature, 18+, mdni.

♡ genre: pro hero!au, married!au, fluff + smut.

♡ summary: katsuki can never find enough time to get some sleep. between being a full time pro hero, a father and a husband— hours of rest are hard to come by. unless it’s one of those sweet, sweet saccharine sundays.

♡ warning(s): please read ! heavy smut, pwp ( characters aged up to late twenties ), somnophilia, unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it, kids ), fingering ( female recieving ), tummy bulges, mating press, pregnancy!kink, daddy!kink, breeding!kink, light!exhibitionism, cumplay + needy bakugou has a praise!kink... <3

♡ author’s note(s): brrr hey guys! it feels like forever since i last posted a full fic, january was bleh so im happy to get this out !! special thanks to @greenchild for feeding me this idea and thank to all of you for your love, support and 2.8K. i love you all, enjoy <3

♡ masterlist | requests

katsuki bakugou couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten a full nights sleep. between being a pro hero and family life, the full eight to nine hours of pure rest wasn’t easy to come by— now he wasn’t complaining, he was far too grateful for the life he lead to whinge and whine about the finer details. bakugou was right on track to becoming the number two, he had a beautiful wife who loved him and supported him no matter how reckless he might have been and two little brats that he adored more than anything. he was miles ahead of his high school classmates, never letting up or resting so like he said, there was no room to complain.

but even as the faintest wisps of light slip through drawn curtains and a vermillion gaze settled on the old all might digital alarm clock ( reading 9:01 AM ), katsuki bakugou can’t help but feel grateful for the sleep he just had. no interruptions from wailing toddlers or infants who need changing, no late night call ins for patrols— none of that, just an arm around his wife’s waist and the soft sound of her breathing to coax him out of his sleepy state.

bakugou remembers now, a distant yet far from faint memory of where he and his wife spent two days of their honeymoon under slumber’s spell, having ravished each other the very night they arrived in paris for their honeymoon ( all mina’s idea, she had told katsuki it was the perfect destination for newly weds in love— and whilst the several districts his alien friend recommended did appease you, the blonde had promised to take you on a more luxurious getaway when he was hire up in the hero rankings ). of course that very honeymoon lead you to fall pregnant with your first little miracle— taiga bakugou, the very spitting image of her father except or the slight tilt to her nose and the sparkle in her eye that only her mother possessed.

raising her had proven to be both an enjoyable and exhausting experience for katsuki, with a matching explosive personality to rival even her daddy’s— there were many restless nights the pro hero spent butting heads with his daughter while his sweet spouse was away on missions and getting used to the field again. even during the pregnancy, full nights of rest were little to none— the cravings taiga gave you were almost unbearable for the blonde, not to mention the 2AM labour his little girl put you through...and yet he would repeat the last four years of lack of sleep all over again if it meant reliving every single moment with you. raising tatsumo was much better; however.

so as the weight of well deserved slumber lifts from katsuki’s shoulder’s he’s forced to deal with the memories of your sweet cries from the night (or rather, nights) he made you his wife. he stirs under cotton sheets, a familiar hardness pressing against his inner thigh as he recalls the way you tightened around him— “honey baby,” the desperate whisper tastes foreign, bitter across his tastebuds as he licks his lips. katsuki was usually much more composed when it came to sex, he could hold out for hours while you pleaded and begged of him to give you more. but this morning was different, very much so.

skilfully, the ash blonde slips a hand between your sheets, finger tips calloused with years of training and battle, dancing up your bare thighs from where you wear only his shirt and a pair of panties. the fingers trail up to your underwear, pressing them against your cunt as bakugou watches your face for any reaction— you twitch once before falling back into a deep slumber, letting your husband know that he can continue. he peels like orange silk away from your core and down your legs, half resisting the urge to sniff your undergarment like the dirty man he is but he decides that he can longer wait, already turned on by the feeling of your bare pussy against his hand.

the pro knows exactly how to turn you on, dragging is nails down your thighs just an inch from your wetness and his mind fogs with lust at the thought of the sounds you’d make for him if you were awake...not yet, he says to himself. his next move is to fuck your mouth, two of his digits sliding past parted lips from where you snore— gathering the drool that pools on the surface of your tongue. back and forth; move bakugou’s fingers until he’s satisfied with how wet you’ve made them with your spit. returning those very same fingers to your cunt, he parts your folds— already slightly sticky and hot with the nectar he’s used to savouring. if this were any other time, bakugou would be eating you out like a man starved of his last three meals but the rising sun tells him that his moments to fuck you are very few.

so now, he slides those lubed up fingers right into your tight little hole, shuddering under the sheets at how you automatically clamp around him— even while you sleep. katsuki’s vermillion eyes seek out your face in the warm light of the dusk, watching as your expression contorts into that familiar look of pleasure— lips blossoming into a cherry pout, brows furrowed as if you’re focusing on the way your husband makes you feel.

“fuck, honey baby, so good ‘n pliant for me even when yur fuckin’ sleepin’,” katsuki slurs against saliva that slips along his tongue, he’s hungry to fuck you, make you moan and scissors his fingers deep inside your obedient cunt in away that makes your slumbering body jump. pressing a thumb to your neglected clit, bakugou twists his fingers in search for your g-spot, pumping them into you with vigour. “gonna make you cum angel, baby, please cum while you’re like this s’you can take my cock.”

if there’s one thing pro hero dynamite knows, it’s that your body is a slave to him, no matter what state it’s in. your thighs part instinctively; giving your husband room to curl his fingers and press down hard on your pleasure spot— gummy walls sucking him in deeper. he makes you cum while you sleep, juices staining your supple skin, honeyed from the warm light outside.

“atta girl, cummin’ for your husband like that even when you’re sleeping— so fuckin’ naughty...” katsuki grunts, locks of sun kissed hair beginning to plaster itself against his forehead. his body shakes with the desire to be inside of you, his internal temperature rising with every second that he’s not sheathed within your walls. pulling his fingers away from your twitching mound, bakugou slides them, cum soaked and all, into his mouth to taste your very sweetness. “would eatcha out like a starved man, honeybee, but we don’t gotta lot of time left baby...”

with that, bakugou shuffles his sweats down enough for his cock to spring free, tip bright red and leaking against his toned, scarred abdomen. with practised ease, he hooks your right leg over his waist and positions your dripping cunny right over the head of his length. it takes everything katsuki has not to plunge deep inside of you, to abuse your tempting cunt until it’s formed into the shape of his cock but for once he wants to take you slowly, enjoy his time with your limp body at his disposal.

pressing his girth against your slick entrance, your husband sighs, coating himself with the remainders of your delightful release. the mess you made just for him, makes it easier for him to guide his cock between your velveteen folds that take him so well. his free hand comes up to brush over your cheek and even in the depths of your rest you manage to nuzzle into katsuki’s palm and make his coo— what a precious little doll you are, so good for him and always so obedient no matter what state you’re in. fuck, it drives him so insane that he can’t even think straight.

“...suki....”

fucking hell. the way you sigh out for him so mawkishly whilst you dream makes him twitch, not even half the way inside you. “c’mon honey baby, don’t go moanin’ my name like that when i haven’t even had a c-chance to make you mine yet—“ the blonde shudders, eyes screwing shut as he finally bottoms out inside of you. katsuki let’s out a choked moan, from deep within his chest while you welcome him into your lethally syrupy cunt. “ohh, fuck, that’s the stuff, good girl...”

bakugou’s thrusts start slow yet, forcing your limp body to jolt up the bed and your tits to bounce in tune with the rhythm of his hips— your little hole sucks him in so greedily, so selfishly, clamping down on him as if to prevent him from leaving your body as a whole. pro hero dynamite is shaken to his core, how can his precious baby take him so darlingly while she’s asleep, refusing to let go of him and keep his cock tucked away inside of you.

shit, shit, shit.

he wants to defile you, asleep or not, ruin how pure and angelic your body appears even after years of being together. it’s your fault he’s like this anyway, you deserve to have your pussy destroyed no matter the circumstances— ruby framed eyes threaten to roll back into his skull while bakugou picks up the swirl of his hips between your sticky thighs, you flutter and squeeze around the girth that’s stretched you out so many times before and yet you still remain a tight hole designed for your husband and your husband alone.

lips map their way up the column of your neck, committing every dip and scar and blemish to memory even though katsuki knows where each of them are. the amber colour of the morning sun highlights each of your marks, your husband giving you as many lovebites to match each one. “nn, suki...more..” you whimper, so quiet he almost misses it underneath the sound of wet skin slapping against wet skin. could you feel how he deflowered you in your sleep? ruining such a good girl while you resting? he wants so bad to corrupt you from the inside.

static stretches across katsuki’s brain, crackling as his neurones fire and dopamine fizzes in his veins. cum. cum. breed her. it’s too soon but the blonde can’t help it, pent up and high on the morning sunrise— addicted to the taste of your skin licked with light perspiration. it’s been ages since he’s had you like this, can you blame him for not hanging on so long? bakugou lifts your thigh higher on his waist, using it as leverage to plough into the deepest parts of you, his precious wife, desperate to cream inside you before wake up.

“mm, know you’re close lovebug, won’t you cum for me suki?”

katsuki’s gaze hones in on you, vision blurred and hazy with lust from his impending orgasm. your own eyes are heavy with sleep but the soft smile on your face is filled with a familiar adoration and saccharine love that the blonde can never get tired of. he knows that you know your voice alone is another to send him speeding off of the cliff of release— your hole squeezing around him, beautiful hips that once brought his children into the world gracefully moving up and down to coax his girthy cock to its final release.

“honey baby,” katsuki whines like a broken man when you cup his face, hot puffs of air warming up the space between you. his hips don’t let up though, driven by the way you move against him beneath the sheets, he’s so close he can almost taste it. “c-couldn’t wait for you to wake up, needed you so fuckin’ bad...”

your mouth hangs open in a quiet groan, getting lost in the claps of sweaty bodies against one another and katsuki latches onto your lower lips to swallow your noise— breathing it in and letting it spread through his body like oxygen. “oh, lovebug, y-you don’t...” you pause, eyes rolling to the back of your head as the angry tip of your husband’s cock grazes against your gummy spot, sending your walls into a flurry of flutters that make katsuki twitch. “ ...you don’t ever have to wait with me, d-don’t hold back, kay?”

you’re a breathless mess, a sight to behold and he can’t take not having you filled with his seed any longer. the lazy push and pull of your bodies smacking wetly against each other become erratic thrusts, heat pooling in the abdomen of the pro hero boiling him alive in feelings of desire for you and you alone.

bakugou quivers from his lips to his toes when he cums, filling your slippery walls with a creamy white and lining your insides with the claim of your man. your man. your husband. “fuck, fucking hell, h-honey, gimme that pussy...gimmie that fuckin’ pussy,” his groans linger in the crisp early morning air, dancing with the static while he orgasms within you, endless bouts of white stuffing you to the brim. you kiss in an attempt to calm him, squeezing around his thick cock to ride out his high. you taste of orange liquor and manuka honey, addicting while he sucks lavishly on your tongue and spares you the air you need to breathe. ‘cause at the end of the day call you need is him.

“did you cum, precious one?” ever the gentleman, katsuki has to ask but even you can see in his blood red ruby eyes ( no matter how tired they may seem ) that he’s gearing up for a second round, shallow thrusts pushing his own release deeper into your fertile womb. there’s about thirty minutes until the kids wake up, but your lover can make you see stars in fifteen.

you shake your head once as bakugou rolls you onto your back— strong arms caging you into the prison if his love. large hands dance tenderly up the back of your thighs and you meet his eyes with such a saccharine smile his heart bursts at the sight of you. “you’re insatiable, lovebug,” the tingling notes of your moan caresses bakugou’s cheek as he manoeuvres your legs to fold you into a mating press, shifting his weight above you. “did you really need me that much, daddy bear?”

“think y’already know the answer to that, honeybee,” katsuki drawls, tripping over his words filled, oh so generously with blazing desire. he still remains sheathed inside you, a darling whine dripping from his cherry lined lips— the ones sore from kissing you— as he gives an experimental thrust into the tight heat of your core. you accept him willingly, opening up for him like a blossoming flower which makes katsuki’s hot breath stutter from the overstimulation. neither of you can look away, sharing the intimate moment of his length sinking into you— katsuki groans as you suck him in inch by inch before leaning over and attaching his lips to yours, licking at the seam of them in order to coax them open. his wife is a tease however; denying him the pleasure of sucking on her tongue...for now at least.

but it’s all worth it, for katsuki wants to burn the erotic sight of you beneath him into his mind forever. your skin shines like it was kissed by the setting moon, eyes hooded and holding a lust that only burns brightly for him while your chest heaves in anticipation of your husband claiming you for the second time that morning. “m-move suki, please—c-can’t...” the tail end of your pleas fall away with the fading night sky.

the man doesn’t need to be told twice.

save for a few shallow thrusts to get going, katsuki soon finds himself pistoning into you at an unruly, god speed pace. the blonde revels in the way one hand of yours twirls strands of his hair between your fingers whilst the other digs crescent moons into his blemished honey skin. helpless huffs and candied cries tickle bakugou’s ears while he presses your body flush against his and pins you down with his hips.

their movements don’t ever waver, cock catching on every ridge your damp pussy has to offer him, each thrust calculated amplify your pleasure that rolls in heatwaves throughout your body. katsuki’s mind grows blank, thick with the mirage you’ve cast over him from the way you push back against him, taking more of his inches into you.

“ngh, lovebug,” you say, high off of euphoria while katsuki’s leaking cock bears down harshly on your g-spot and you smile up at him deliriously— looking like the eighth wonder of the world. you grab the hand your husband uses to keep your thighs up and bring it down to your tummy for him to feel what you feel. “can feel your cock inside me, love, so big...makin’ my tummy bulge like a good daddy bear...”

something snaps within katsuki at the sound of your breathless praise; a feral blaze setting alight deep inside his chest— spreading throughout his body as his cock drives deeper and deeper inside your spongy, wet cunt— just about breaching the gates of your cervix. breed her. fuck her. make her swollen with your cum. bakugou can’t even think straight; intoxicated by the way you move against him, the way you look so full of him and his thick length.

he wants you to look full all of the time. so katsuki does with the only way he knows how. dropping his head to your neck, sharp attack your neck with blossoms of bruises forming under your skin in the name of love— you whine, a gorgeous symphony of his name against his ear while you tangle your fingers in the baby hairs at the nape of his neck. “y’can’t jus...jus say stuff like that to me, honey...” bakugou croons against your skin, screwing his eyes shut while his hips pick up the pace and plunging his length right into your womb. the sounds of your arousal wetly spill into the sex scented air— fuelling katsuki to thrust into you faster. “not if you...n-not if you don’t want me to fuck another one of those shitty brats into you.”

as stuttered as his words are, bakugou means every single one of them. a primal desire activates in the back of his mind, overriding every single of senses. just the thought of lining your womb with his pungent seed, making you pregnant once again and seeing you round and full with katsuki’s child is enough to drive him off of the rails. And the pro hero knows that you feel the same, he can tell by the way your heat clamps down on his cock and strangles him, as if to milk him of every ounce of his cum.

“yes, want you to make me pregnant suki, make me a mommy again, please—!” you simper out loud, desperate tears springing to your eyes while the bed groans beneath you. visions of you round and swollen with a baby drives him to thrust into you harder, faster so that more and more of his precum spills into you. “know you want it, want it too...your cum, deep inside me—ohmygod suki—yes!”

bakugou slaps a hand over your mouth, watching as your sweet doe eyes brim with tears at the languid roll of his hips against yours. “careful honeybee, don’t want the kids to...fuckin’ hell... h-hear—“ he stutters, eyes rolling, limbs shaking violently. his other hand drops between your conjoined bodies, drawing vicious circles into your swollen clit to draw you closer and closer to the edge. star dust is littered behind your eyes, the bright white signifying the race to your high that only katsuki can give to you. “or do you want to be heard, you want everyone to hear how full you’re gonna become when i get you pregnant again. how you’ll whine and beg me to suck on your tits when you start makin’ that sweet milk for our baby. is that what you fuckin’ want, yn?”

you can’t help the way your pussy flutters around his cock that brutally grazes your g-spot— the dirty words your husband speaks like music to your ears. a symphony with his moans and the sounds of his balls slapping against your bare ass. “oooh, shit baby, you must do with the way your lil cunny clamps down on me—just like that...”

“oh god, lovebug please...cum...cum! need it daddy bear—can’t take it anymore,” you babble against katsuki’s hand, brain turning to mush at the unbearable pleasure. the knot in your tummy becomes tighter, close to snapping as the white light of pleasure clouds your view.

patterns drawn diligently against your clit speed up; turning to quick figure of eights to tease your orgasm. “‘course you fuckin’ do honey baby, my little breeding bitch. my sweet little wife who can’t wait to be a mommy again. take this cock, you dirty whore. take it and I’ll give you my fuckin’ baby.” bakugou slurs, losing all control as the pace of his hips begins to falter. you can feel his dick twitching inside of you, tip pulsing with the need to paint your insides.

your gazes lock within the frenzy, while your back arches and hips lift to take your husband deeper inside you. dynamite is feral like you’ve never seen before; an animal reduced purely back to instinct. unfocused red eyes become teary like your own with hot pleasure while they lock onto you but you know that behind lust; loved the adoration and love your husband holds for you. thats all you need to reach the edge and tumble into your orgasm,

it takes but a few more thrusts and a pinch to your clit before you’re cumming— release squirting out and splattering against bakugou’s toned abdomen.

the blonde never lets up while you cum undone on his iron hot rod, letting him pump into you with unrelenting feverishness. katsuki is desperate, needing an extra push even with you strangling his cock with your insides. “s-say you’ll make your daddy a daddy baby, say you’ll give me another fucking kid. fuck, fuck yeah...please honey baby—“ bakugou damn near sobs, trembling violently above you as his breath hitches with ever hiccup.

smiling gently, you pull his head to your neck, cradling your husband while his pace slows to circular grinds. “i’ll make you a daddy again, you can cum for me now lovebug...”

“shit, shit, oh god— cummin’...” thats all bakugou needs to hear before bottoming out inside of your abused hole— screaming against your bitten flesh and forcing his cock into your fertile womb as he sprays with his thick, sticky seed. white coats every ridge and crevice of your pussy while impatient thrusts slow to sensual grinds. you feel the tears of neediness soak the supple skin of your neck, rocking your hips against katsuki to milk his cock for all it’s worth— even if slow waves of his cum seep down your folds and to the sheets below.

“g’morning, katsuki,” you sigh blissfully, fingers combing through your lover’s sweaty mop of sun kissed locks. the pair of you lie still, limbs still intertwined as you catch your breath under the orange hues of the light outside.

your husband shifts his head to look at you, eyelids heavy over blood red eyes with a satisfied look on his face. he’ll never get over having you all to himself first thing in the morning— katsuki bakugou will always consider that a luxury and as he looks to you, a great smile soon takes his features. “yeah...good fucking morning to you too, angel face,” bakugou doesn’t dare pull out of you, intent on keeping his word. “love you yn, you’re always so good to me...”

katsuk’s lips mould into a pout as you continue your earlier ministrations of brushing back sweat slicked hair away from his face before pressing a chase kiss to his lip and making his cock twitch from over sensitivity, inside of you. he was always a sucker for the romantic moments after a passionate round of sex, he was a domestic, love struck son of a bitch what could he say? “suki...lovebug, you know you can pull out if it’s too much,” you remind him, the sound of your voice pulling his attention back to you. as he stares; katsuki maps out every detail of your face, the way your eyes glitter in the mellow light that peeks from between closed curtains or the slight dip across your cheek in the form of a scar from where you’d been injured on the field— he spends time committing it all to memory as if it’s the last time he’ll get to witness such beauty. “you’re staring, bug.”

“nuh uh, not pulling out.” huffing, bakugou leans up for another kiss, which you happily provide him with as he curls up onto your chest like a kitten seeking warmth. “keepin’ you plugged full s’you can get preggers like i fuckin’ promised.”

“you were serious?” you question him first, earning yourself another grouchy huff before your eyes roll and a comfortable silence sweeps across your bedroom, periodically interrupted by the morning birds waking up and chirping. “always a man of your word, huh bug? don’t worry, we’ll make you a daddy bear soon, but i’ve got to clean up before the kids wake up.”

“don’ you fuckin’ move— leave the dumbass kids, they’ll be fine on their own.”

“not with taiga’s quirk coming through, now move, you’re heavy.”

with that, you manage to shove bakugou off of you and he only hisses lightly as his softened cock hits the cold air, already missing your heat. the banter between you both as husband and wife is always light and you always win; he wants to bite back but anything he says will be soft on his sharp tongue. damn you and you being the love of his life. bakugou watches as you fix his shirt over your frame and head to your en-suite bathroom to make yourself more presentable to your kids— mumbling something about how many times katsuki came inside of you.

sure there was a lot of it, but he’d only cum inside you twice and he was trying to give you a baby. again.

the shower turns on and he can hear the sound of water running but it doesn’t cover your sweet voice as you call for him. he could never miss that. “katsuki bakugou, you horny bastard, i love you, my daddy bear!” you sing for him; making the blonde smile.

“i love you more, honey baby,” he chuckles back, tucking himself back into sweats before settling back into the ruined sheets.

bakugou was so luckily to have you and you’re beautiful children— he wouldn’t trade any moment of his life for the world except for maybe more time with you. he swore, he’d spend forever loving you if he could.

“daddy?” sweet thoughts are cut off by the groggy voice of bakugou’s eldest daughter, taiga, who stands in the doorway of his bedroom rubbing her cherry red eyes.

the blonde grins, rising from his place in bed and crossing the room in three short strides. he quickly crouches down in front of his little girl and ruffle her unruly mop of matching blonde hair. “g’morning brat, what’s up?”

taiga clutches her shoto plushy tightly, the one uncle todoroki had gotten her for her first birthday ( the one that bakugou hated because it was his daughter’s favourite— kirishima hated it too because he had always thought he was the favourite uncle ), and pouts down at her father, scowling sleepily. bakugou knows if you could see the two of them now, you’d be saying she was the spitting image of him. “tatsumo woke up n wouldn’t stop whinin’, fink he’s hungry, daddy!” the little girl grumbles, clearly still reeling in the after effects of her sleep that got cut short.

“how about we go get him and make some pancakes then?” katsuki suggests softly, hauling his daughter onto his bare shoulders and being mindful not to drop her stupid fuckin’— i mean her plushy to the ground. “y’gonna help me mix up enough batter for ya ma n’ brother, you got that brat?”

taiga squeals as at the new found height, wrapping a singular chubby arm around bakugou’s head for support, making his heart burst at the tiny hand that grips his chin. fuck, he loved his life. “only if we can add choco chwips, daddy!”

“oi, don’t you push your fuckin’ luck with me brat, ya mommy might let you get away with eatin’ shit like that but not me—“ bakugou makes an attempt to scold his daughter while they make way towards his son’s room, but he already knows he’s going to give into her. he can’t say no to taiga.

“i’ll tell mommy you cursed at me!”

“why you little sh—“

“careful, katsuki, if you keep cursing her out i might have to put you on punishment later,” taiga bursts in to wriggly giggles on bakugou’s shoulders, making it harder to keep her in place as you brush past him to grab tatsumo from the nursery.

“daddy’s gonna get in trouble!”

the teasing tone to your voice lingers in the air while you fetch your son, who seems groggy and pouty when he comes into katsuki’s view— wrapped up in your arms while you wear a cleaner shirt of his. there’s that glint in your eye, similar to the one your children posses when they’re doing something mischievous. and that alone tells the ash blonde he’ll be getting punished in ways that could lead to another little one rushing through your house.

bakugou can roll with that.

but for now; he reaches up and pinches taiga’s nose— telling her to stop running her mouth and sending you into giggles while you carry your children downstairs for breakfast. katsuki bakugou couldnt remember the last time he’d gotten a full nights sleep, but what he did know is that he’d always remember the very saccharine mornings he’d get to spend with you and your beautiful children after.

bonus:

“taiga, did you put chocolate chips in the batter even though i told you no?”

bakugou had turned his back for but a mere second to grab some milk for tatsumo; who played happily with smooshed bits of banana in his high chair— and suddenly, the batter was littered with the offending, tiny pieces of candy.

“no, it was mommy!”

“yn...”

you quickly throw your hands up in the air as defence, dropping the packet of sinful treats to the counter. “what? i’m having cravings, bakugou!”

“you’re not even pregnant, yn!” the man himself raises his spatula at you accusingly with a scowl, biting down on his tongue to prevent himself from cursing again.

you smile up at your husband, knowing he can’t stay mad at you for long. “but i will be, katsuki, it’s the thought that counts.” your eyes flicker up as you wipe the melted chocolate on your finger tips off with your tongue before moving to settle your daughter down for breakfast. bakugou splutters, cheeks flaming with a reddish rose at the thought of your soon to be baby and all the activity that comes with making one which makes you laugh. “oh and lovebug? your pancakes are burning.”

with a jump, katsuki turns to flick off the flame and save his batch of pancakes while you tend to your kids— leaving him to contemplate over your chocolate chip breakfast, how lucky he was to have you.

“i crave chocolate, can i get a pregnant?” taiga squeals shortly after.

“not a chance in hell, brat.”

♡ taglist:

@ozzy-bozzy @bakugous-mamas @meg-mystic @runningon-5percentsleep @cyans-bliss @husband-to-tomura-shigaraki @paintedr0ses1 @69meggg69 @sapphoscolonoscopy @toshidou @saucey-kneecapzz42020 @candybabey @alrunemara @greenchild

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gabzlovesu · 3 years

Text

FOR WHAT IT'S WORTH

giyu x kakushi!reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: angsty, mutual pining, self-loathing/mild depressive state, scars, survivor’s guilt, oral stimulation (fem receiving)...

a/n: i've never written for giyu before so this was fun to try something new. i, being the overanalyzing bitch that i am, did a lil bit a character analysis to make sure i did him justice and i found out that he suffers from survivors guilt. so i played off of that concept because i thought it was interesting. enjoy!

requested by the lovely @luffysthickwaifu, love you bby <3

You don’t know why you were chosen. Why you were the only one who made it out alive. The memory of the heart-wrenching screams and limp bodies of the innocent slowly eat away at what’s left of your already numbed soul. Maybe their dying moments that haunted your dreams everynight was your punishment.

“I’m not hungry, you can take the food back.” The sound of steel cutting through thick bamboo poles resumes, echoing from every corner of the garden and drowning out the the words that had yet to escape your lips. Your body had been on autopilot while your thoughts held your attention so you didn’t realize that you’ve been standing there for a few minutes, but Giyu did.

Were you surprised that the water hashira was training despite your strict orders of rest? No. But what was shocking was the dark red spot on his bandaged abdomen that grew with every swing of his nichirin sword. The tray of food clatters against the ground as you rush over to stop his next strike, hands clasping the blade mere inches away from your head.

“Giyu!”

An air of annoyance forms around him, but he finds it hard to keep his straightface with the way your lips pucker to the side in a tight pout. You attempt to be authoritative and scold his actions by letting out a huff in disapproval, which ultimately fails when the corner of his lips turns up ever so slightly. Was he mocking you?

Without saying anything he lowers his sword only to feel the pain that he had ignored during his training; he hunches over slightly and his hand shoots up to hold his abdomen. Wasting no time, you’re beside him trying to tend to his wounds but his arms ward you off like a pesky gnat. “I’m fine, just — mph, in a little pain. That’s all.”

Giyu is the type to never make a big deal out of an injury, no matter how bad it was. And this wasn’t because of an egotistical attitude, but it was rather for the sake of others: why should he allow himself to be of concern when there are other things — other people — that are more important?

You saw the anger in his eyes when he arrived at the Butterfly Mansion days prior. He became his anger. Anger about the existence of demons, anger about how they feed off of the humans, and anger about how he failed to defeat one of the upper ranks that would only take more innocent souls. It was his sole purpose, and he couldn’t fulfill that duty. However, he didn’t loathe, it wasn’t his character; he simply noted his mistakes and limitations and trained to surpass them even though there was a guilty feeling that he couldn’t seem to shake.

After begging non-stop for several minutes, Giyu finally let’s you change his bandages with one condition: you stay outside on the engawa. You had already noticed how Giyu would foster situations in which the two of you were alone, separated from the rest of the world and finding company in each other. Even when you weren’t sharing the air of the same room, you managed to occupy a small space in each other’s minds.

“How’d you get the scar on your face?”

His question catches you off guard, the silence quickly becoming suffocating with a mere question and no matter how hard you try to focus on your work, you feel your body become heavy with guilt for the hundredth time today.

“I-uh, used to fight like you. I was a kanoe though — nothing special...”

“Why’d you stop? Why become a Kakushi when you clearly had skill and advanced through the ranks?”

A sigh fizzles out from you. You couldn’t blame him for being curious; you rarely talked about yourself and you were surprisingly well with a sword. “A couple of miles north from here, there’s a deserted town called Ōtami. And on the edge of the town, there’s a memorial honoring the death of it’s people. I failed them and I will never allow myself to do that ever again.”

You and Giyu were two sides of the same coin: you run from the past with the guilt on your tail in a never-ending chase, rendering you tired and breathless; Giyu uses it to push himself and try to make up for what he lacked, though there are times that the guilt from surviving makes him want to abandon everything. It’s ironic how demon slayers are always fighting off demons for people who can’t defend themselves, but who’s going to help them fight their own?

His eyes that were fixed on the gate the entire time now fall on you. You can’t help but think that he sees you differently. It was a dreadful feeling, like everything you hoped to have with him was no longer impossible. There’s no way he could ever love a coward like you. One of your hands come up to lightly trace the scar that ran down your left cheek to your ribcage. You kept it hidden because you were insecure of how it looked and it served as a reminder of your inability to protect people.

A tender hand raises from the floor boards and ghosts the top button of your uniform. “Do you mind if I see it?”

The sudden gesture makes your face get hot in anticipation and you’re stunned from his blunt nature. “What?”

“I just want to see the scar, only that and nothing else. I promise.”

Your heart pangs a little yet you’re unsure why. Did you want him to see something more? “S-sure.” You set your gaze somewhere else — anywhere but his gentle hands that unbutton your shirt at an agonizingly slow pace. You feel antsy and your whole body starts to burn like a raging fire.

He slips the left side down to expose your skin and his finger traces the same path you traced just seconds prior, sending waves of electricity at every inch of the scar. You shouldn’t feel the way you do right now. Your nipples shouldn’t be pebbling against the pads of your bra and your panties shouldn’t be drenched in your slick — yet they are.

“Beautiful.” It’s barely audible, but his affirmation of your appearance manages to reach your ears, and he meant it. You were beautiful, inside and out. Even though a piece of you would be forever tainted by that horrible experience, you had the air of a goddess and a gentle soul that managed to shine through the veil of darkness that enshrouded you. You were perfect in his eyes. “For what it’s worth, the scar doesn’t change a single thing about you. You’re still the same the Y/N, but now you also carry them with you.”

Silence descends upon you again, though instead of it being uncomfortable, his words leave you feeling at ease and a warm feeling grows in your heart. You feel yourself being lured in like a moth to a flame, your bodies drifting closer together and desperately want to feel each other.

Orbs of blue, that are dark and mysterious like the depths of the vast ocean, stare back at you before flickering to your lips. There were no need for words and the unspoken question receives an answer when you close the little distance that remained. Giyu shifts his weight towards you until your back connects with the floor.

Your lips work in tandem, connecting and parting at a slow tempo before speeding up as the desire for more consumed both of you. Part of you wonders if this is real and your hands gingerly run across his toned body to determine if he was a figment of your imagination; all of the stolen glances, lingering touches, and kind gestures — they all lead up to this moment.

He breaks away, taking in how your lips shine from the exchange and then move to your cheek where the scar begins. If you weren’t gonna love this part of you, then he would do it for the both of you. His lips caress your skin and leave nothing untouched as he makes his way down the jagged line.

Your bra blocked the rest of his path so he slips the strap down and exposes your erected peak only for it to be covered once again by his mouth. When you moan out his name he realizes that he’s strayed from the task at hand. “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t resist,” and with a parting kiss he returns to the scar.

As the last of the setting sun dips below the treeline, a breeze comes through and tickles all of the wet spots Giyu has created on your smooth skin. He finally reaches the end and promptly returns to your face, forehead resting against yours and hoping that you feel everything that he’s feeling right now. However, there was something that had been on his mind all day and needed to be said.

“Y/N, I’m leaving tomorrow morning,” he takes a moment to read your face and when your eyes look away in disappointment he continues, “I hope I survive at least one more time so I can come back to you. Hopefully by then I will be able to say everything I wish to tell you.” He cups your cheek and beckons for your gaze to return to him, he needed you to see how much he meant every word.

“We’re always saving others, so let’s focus on ourselves for this one night.” Maybe the help the two of you needed was from each other, a love that could heal your broken selves.

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓? 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!

taglist:@angwritez @misss-chrisss @hungrynessforfics @dejwrites @rinhoes @iloveitblackbhna @protectpancakes @presidentmonica @felixtrailmix @nneedynymph @sintiva @indiecursor @po3ticb3auty @nanaminshousewife @rxxicole @gemimaya @thenerdyrebel @pixiikitty @dabilovesme @seyawrld @4ngrysgf @daichisbunnybaby @urwifey2 @ar1nat0rs @picayunne @kurtaclangobrr @kookieflvr @woahajime @druighoney @syomi @chrolloderulo @vivisspamm @sukosie @erentoes @kutosznn @queenmjp @sweeneyblue1 @tyga-lily @jeanslove @getoswhore @thicksimpx @yeagerfushiguro @cosmicyeager @sakurashell @38riku @tonaken @korathefairy @solarisxu @waytoohornez

#giyu x reader #giyuu tomioka x reader #tomioka giyū #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #water hashira

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you-gotta-dolla · 3 years

Text

Mammon's replancment

Chapter 2

Lol guess who lied about it being on Saturday... Me... sorry 😬

TW: suicidal thoughts, suicide, major character death, depression. Read with caution please ☺

---------------------------------------------------

Closing his bedroom door silently, Mammon sat on his couch and stared into the darkness of his room.

He's supposed to meet with Lucifer soon, feeling distressed with that fact, he lays down and stares at the ceiling.

Where did he go wrong? , why was he like this?, it's not like he could control it, he doesn't mean what he does, it's always been like this though.

He wonders off into the halls of the house, thoughts clouding his mind. He walked passed Lucifer's office, he can't hear anything so they must have gone their seperate ways. That was until he heard a loud crash coming from the kitchen.

"I'M HUNGRY" "look beel, we only have enough food for dinner, we can't give you any snacks-" "BUT I'M HUNGRY NOW, I WANT FOOD" "we don't have enough, either you eat now and have no dinner, or you wait for dinner"

hearing the commotion mammon walked into the kitchen "what's going on? "

Beel glared at Mammon "YOU" stomping over to mammon he grabbed him by the collar "THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT" lifting him off the ground, beel snarled at mammon "YOU ABSOLUTE STUPID EXCUSE OF A BROTHER", grabbing onto beel's wrists, mammon stares at beel wide eyed and surprised.

"BEEL PUT HIM DOWN" "NO HE DOESN'T DESERVE TO EVEN WALK" mammon stared at beel with both sadness and guilt whilst beel stared at him with hatred "BECAUSE OF YOU, I WON'T BE ABLE TO EAT UNTIL DINNER, NOW I HAVE TO STARVE, ALL BECAUSE YOU ATE MY FOOD" beel started to cry "you've always been like this, it's always your FAULT, it's your fault for being such a bad brother, it's your fault for my downfall" beel's grip tightens.

"IT'S YOUR FAULT LILITH DIED"

His fault.

It's all his fault?.

Mammon stopped struggling, going limp, he feels his brothers grip loosen up making mammon fall to the ground.

It's all his fault.

He's the reason.

He's the problem.

Mammon doesn't hear Beel apologize, begging him to say something.

Would it be better if... If he

"If I died instead of lilith, would it be better?", dull blue eyes stare into terrified purple eyes, he sees beel shaking his head telling him something he still couldn't hear.

Beel's right, he only causes harm to others, only cause problems, he's nothing more than a burden.

Lilith shouldn't have died, it was his fault. It's always his fault.

It should've been him not her.

Mammon stood up without a word and headed straight for his bed room, slamming the door shut, falling face first onto his bed.

"You can change it you know"

Jolting up, mammon looks around his room frantically "who's there?"

"You can make them happy"

Jumping up from his bed, mammon walks around his room to find the person talking.

"You can bring her back you know"

Stopping in his tracks, mammon stares down at the ground "what? "

"You can bring her back, make them happy, make everyone be a better them"

"But in exchange, you die Instead, taking her place"

Taken aback by this, mammon sits down on his couch "but i-" "they don't like you anyways, you'd be doing them a favour, Beel said so himself, it was your fault"

That's right.

It was his fault.

It's always his fault.

But he can make them happy.

Make them proud.

"That's right, don't you want to make them proud of you for once?" "Let them be happy for once?*

He could.

He should.

Before mammon knew it, he was already standing on a chair, rope around his neck.

He could make it better, make it right, he can repay his dept by sacrificing himself for the sake of resurrecting his dead sister.

"A heart for a heart"

Mammon's hands a shaking.

"A soul for a soul"

He kicks the chair down

"A life for a life"

Mammon stops moving

---------------------------------------------------

Hey guuuuuuys

How y'all doing?

I'm sorry I couldn't keep with the promise, I was busy with personal stuff, I found out I'm gonna be an auntie so fun fun

Chpt 3 won't be out for awhile so I'm sorry for that.

Anyways. Take care bye <3

---------------------------------------------------

TAGS:

@mmeowxd @sinnoman @hime-guinevere @cynthiarlan @amor-immortalem @ice-icebaby @nayuta127 @lorkai @doprxn @giulia2372 @thegayestratinhistory

#mammon angst #obey me #obey me angst #obey me beelzebub #obey me mammon #obey me asmodeus #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me lucifer #obey me belphie

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spikesbimbo · 4 years

Text

Paring: Aone x f!reader

Summary: wet dream, or not?

Tags: dilf!aone, housewife!reader, sleepy late night sex, spooning, daddy kink, soft sweet sex, creampie,

wc: 1.6k

a/n: Aone is 38, reader is 24 bc i said so

part of the dilf collab

18+ minors dni

“Thank you honey.” he muttered, wiping the sweat of his forehead, wanting to kiss those lips of yours so bad, but not wanting to get your precious skin dirty, and the way his coworkers were looking at the two of you meant he already had it coming.

Wondering how he got such a pretty thing, knowing you had to be at least half his age. Your pretty smile brightening the area around you as you clung onto his arm, having no shame in your affection for him. The constant teasing was worth it though if it meant he got to come home to you every night.

Grabbing the lunch out of your hands that he forgot this morning after you gave him a ‘good morning kiss’ before he left. Calling him saying you would bring it to him after seeing the box wrapped in the fabric laying on the counter, convincing him instead of buying snacks from the convenience store.

Your sundress blowing in the wind that must feel so good to him right now, not wanting his eyes to leave you as you unfortunately had to go. Looking at the scruff on his face after not shaving this morning because you made him run late, the way his arms barely fit around his white shirt, the soft smile he gave you as his fingers were tracing your hand had you swooning.

Muttering out a quick thank you again as he was about to turn around before you got on your toes meeting his lips with yours, seeing that they were minding their own business now, just wanting some affection from your husband as earlier wasn't enough.

Catching him off guard as he gave in, a tint appearing on his cheeks, not embarrassed, never because of you, but because of him. The fact that your pretty little self was with him had people turning their heads, purposely going out of your way to show everyone the ring on your left hand. Being so proud that you had him, as he was with you.

Giggling as you left him there frozen, blowing him a kiss as you started walking away. The wind feeling cool on your skin as you walked home, mind still racing with him like he was the only thing you knew.

__________________

Resting your head on the pillow, legs propped up on the couch, eating the takeout after he texted you he'd be home late so you didn't have to worry about him. Heart slightly cracking when you read the words, understanding as you knew his job had weird hours, this not being the first time it's happened.

Eyes getting heavy as you watched the tv under the dim lights, the food growing cold as you haven't touched it in a while, resting on the table beside the vase of flowers he got you the other day. Head hurting as you laid down, eyes quickly closing after being tired doing nothing but waiting for him all day, vision quickly growing black.

Waking up to your husband's touch, shifting in his hold as he carried you to the bedroom. Laying you down as he changed his clothes, quickly getting into bed with you. Your warm weight clinging onto him as a natural instinct, letting out a quiet groan as you realized you were snuggling into his chest, turning your face up while blinking slowly at him.

“What time is it?” You asked uncurling yourself from him.

“9:14.”

“You just got here?” You asked, missing the usual “Honey, I’m home.” as you were knocked out.

He knew you were gonna worry about him, as your sweet self did. Whispering softly into your ear as his hands wandered down to your sides, soothingly rubbing them trying to get you to go back to sleep. “Yeah...i just got back.”

The pout of your face said enough as you moved yourself up to be face to face with him. “You need to take a break baby. c'mere”

Pulling him into your chest, sighing as he let you. Thinking it was cute to be scolded by someone whose face was still puffy from just waking up. Slightly smiling as you refused to move your arms even though he could easily get out.

“You okay, shoulders hurt?” you asked running your fingers through his stress induced graying hair, only being able to tell up close due to the white hiding it. Massaging his temples, relaxing his muscles as the embedded frown on his face disappeared.

“Yeah, the usual.”

Mumbling out “shouldn't be” under your breath as your arms brought him closer into you, wrapping your legs sound his waist, using him like the teddy bear he was. Eyes quickly falling shut at the feeling of his arms engulfing you, running his fingers down your back.

Your senses are hyper aware, sensitive at the slightest touch. Almost overwhelming as your half awake brain takes its time to feel everything. His chest rising against your back, a mewl escaping your lips, shivering at the ghost of his touch.

Unknowingly rolling your hips into his slack body, minding racing with thoughts of him pushing your ankles to your ears. The feeling is unbearable – pussy clenching as you tighten your thighs, an audible whine breaking you out of your trance, along with him.

“You need me love?” his voice hoarse with sleep muttered out. To be honest he was awake at your first movement, still resting his eyes knowing that you move around when you sleep, but when he heard you let out muffled whines he felt awful knowing that he was the cause.

“Y-yea, i-m’sorry daddy” your pitiful voice breaks his heart, so needy that his name didn't even exist in your mind anymore. His brain all foggy trying to formulate a sentence.

“Daddy ain't been payin enough attention to you to the point of you dreaming about it? M’sorry baby” he cooed sliding up his shirt off your waist, tugging your panites down, feeling needier as ever as you rocked your hips.

“M-m’sorry” you whimpered out, ashamed that you greedily woke him up just for your own need, hiding your face in the pillow as his fingers worked their way down to your poor little cunt, so neglected. Your fingers feeling nothing like his cock.

“Shh baby, s’okay let daddy take care of you.” his hot breath whispered into your ear, sending shivers down your spine while catching your made up protests with his fingers rubbing lazy circles on your clit. “S’my job honey.”

His big frame resting behind you put you at ease as his arm resting under you wrapped its way around your waist, pushing up the shirt even more. Calloused warm hands resting on your tummy as his sleepy eyelashes fluttered on your neck.

“n-nobu… please…” you begged, bit-down nails scratching at his forearm, body working against your mind as you tried to push his hand away.

His voice was raspy as he groaned, giving you what you wanted, never being able to tell his baby no. Warm hands picking up your thigh enough to slide himself in, your lips parting, whimpers coming out as he pulled you down on his cock.

“Here, Baby. It’s okay… just relax…” he softly groaned as you complied, not wanting to upset him. Letting your body be limp as he started to rock his hips back and forth,

“There's my good girl, lemme do the work, okay sweetheart? You did such a good job, let daddy take over.” He mumbled into your shoulder as his arm wrapped around you tighter, pulling you to his chest.

Eyes opening fully, the dim alarm light shining on your body covered in a sheen of sweat. You loved how easily he could make you feel good, even on the verge of sleep, warm and quiet in the early hours of the morning. All it took was him mumbling out some praise and the feeling of your cervix getting gently bruised to cum.

“That’s it, baby, god you’re so tight…..I’m gonna cum, love.”

Moving faster as your shared orgasm built, his balls swelling as you tightened around him, panting out. Tongue lolling as silent moans left your mouth, clenching around him more as further around him as he chased your pleasure.

“Y-yeah… fuck… I’m g- gonna, cum, please… nobu. d-daddy please.” you begged, voice cracking as moans interrupted your words.

The feeling of his heat against your back, being completely helpless at his pace, taking him further and further to his release. Vision going black as your eyes rolled back, body shaking as he thrust himself deeper, pleasure overtaking your body as his cum was fucked into you, gasps escaping your mouth. Your body tingling as he finally let you come down from your high.

The weight of your leaning on his arm, the softness of your skin as he rested his head there. Nothing bothering him if you were in his arms, not feeling this at ease in almost a month, the only thing that mattered was cradled against his body.

“You’re good baby. S’okay, just relax now.”

A small hum left your lips as you pushed yourself into him more. Feeling so comfy and safe here, relaxed against his bare chest, his thick cock stretching you out even soft. Letting yourself relax in his hold as you collapsed next to him.

The room is quiet besides your small breaths growing fainter, the wet sound of his lips against your shoulder, feeling his messy hair tickle you. Your eyes are closed but his aren't, looking at you with a faded look of fondness, head curling into your neck.

He felt the moment you passed out again, your chest rising lighter. Worn out, all the tension drained from you what little tension had remained in him. The only way he could fully rest was with you in his arms, curling into him as he held you tight, nothing was even worth thinking of besides you.

#ok bby boy aone is my love 🥺#aone x reader #aone smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu smut #hq x reader #hq x y/n #hq x you #haikyuu x y/n #aone drabble #hq smut #haikyuu!!

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goldengoddess · 3 years

Text

you’re my home - kaz brekker

pairing: kaz brekker x heartrenderi!reader

request: hi!can i request a kaz brekker x reader where they were childhood friends but she had to leave because she was a grisha, and later at the fete they see each other again and she ends up helping the crows?thank you!!have a great day!

a/n: hey i hope this is what you like! i based it more off the show and just switched things around,,,, this is absolutely cheesy and i hate it and i didn’t know how to end it pls forgive me omg

warnings: normal heist stuff, like one curse word?

kaz brekker had changed since the last time you saw him.

to start, he was taller. he’d grown at least two feet. he’d also grown into himself, he didn’t look like the lanky boy that you had once pulled out of the garbage can that one time. and he had a noticeable limp, something that he hadn’t had when the two of you had last talked. his clothes were different too, he was wearing a little palace guards uniform.

but you knew who he was anyways.

his voice was the same, the same comforting sound that invaded your dreams on a good night and had you screaming on a bad night. when you heard him whispering you whipped your head around in panic. he was leaning down talking to suli girl in hushed and angry tones.

when had he become a palace guard? you wondered to yourself, how hadn’t you noticed before? why was he in ravka of all places?

a silly thought came into your head, was he looking for you?

but you pushed the thought away, moving close enough to listen but not to get caught.

“take your position” you heard him say to the girl, also in guards uniform.

she moved away silently, too silently.

kaz straightened himself and surely enough turned his head in your direction.

his eyes were also the same. they were the same color the same look. but they were hardened and cold. the eyes of a boy who had done everything too survive. even the things that he didn’t want to do.

his face was shocked for only a fraction of a second before he regained his composure and faced the rest of the room. standing straight and poised like any of the other palace guards.

had he not recognized you? no, that couldn’t be it. the two of you had grown up together, yes you had changed but not enough that he wouldn’t know who you were. maybe he resented you. for leaving. for being grisha. for having been taken away and saved from the streets of ketterdam unlike him.

you remembered the day they had taken you away.

you and kaz were huddled in the corner of the room away from the rest of the kids your age.

the two of you were been inseparable. stuck together like glue, everyone said.

both of you worked the shitty jobs in the barrel. the ones no one else wanted to do. you ran around the streets delivering packages and messages. you would clean up anything that needed cleaning. the two of you were survivors.

kaz never talked about his brother or how he’d ended up working the streets like this, but you knew, even then as a little kid, you were all he had.

but nothing good ever lasted for little kaz brekker.

when the grisha examiners landed in the harbor of the city, all of the children running around making trouble on the street were forced to get tested.

you and kaz weren’t any different.

you tried to hold onto him as the adults gripped to your arm, testing your for abilities in the small science. when they determined that you were grisha, and promised you a wonderful life at the little palace, they had to rip you from kaz’s arms.

the both of you were wailing and protesting, saying that you wouldn't go anywhere without the other. but eventually the fight left you and you let them drag you away from your only family to a country you didn’t know

you snapped back to the reality of the party going on around you. kaz still looked stoic and unphased a few feet away from you, as if your presence didn’t affect him at all.

but his presence affected you tremendously.

you had whined and cried when you first made it to the palace but you had loved your life here. being surrounded by other grisha, other heartrenderers. people who could do the same things as you. understood the need to use your powers. and you couldn’t deny how comforting it had been to settle into a life where you didn’t have to worry about whether you could make enough money to eat.

you thought of kaz all the time. you thought of everything you had left behind but the only thing that had really mattered to you in that horrible place was kaz. you wondered what had become of the young boy you knew in the years since you had seen him.

just as you were about to make a move to talk to him, two squallers were storming in the direction of kaz and the silent girl he had been talking too before.

the two of them shared a look and started walking in opposite directions. kaz walked past you, sparing you the fastest look ever. a look no one else would have even noticed. but you did because kaz brekker, your child hood best friend was finally in front of you.

the hurried and suspicious steps of your fellow grisha, set off an alarm in your head. even when the two fo you were little, kaz was good at getting out of sticky situations. he has a gift for scheming and the sleight of hand.

he was here on a job, you concluded.

you waited a few seconds and then snuck away, following kaz out of the room where the main events of the fete were taking place.

you walked in just in time to see the inferni make a move to attack kaz. you raised your arms and the grisha dropped like a stone. kaz turned around in a fighting stance and froze when he saw you. he kept his hands in fists, as if he was waiting for you to attack him too.

you dropped you hands, “what are you doing here kaz?”

he dropped his hands as well but you could tell he was still on guard and looking for a way to leave the room.

"i don't have to explain myself to you” he all but growled at you.

you stepped away from him, like his words had physically wounded you.

he seemed to regret the words and took a couple of steps closer to you.

“i’m here on a job and i really need to go find my team so if you’ll excuse me” he tried to move to the door that was behind you.

“let me help” you said, almost desperate. he had just come back into your life, and yes it seemed like he resented you but you couldn’t let him go just yet.

he looked at you skeptically but nodded his head, “i need to get to the courtyards with the carriages. can you take me there.”

you nodded and started leading the way. you turned through many different hallways, moving up and downstairs. every now and then you held up a hand for kaz to stop, as you listened for a heartbeat nearby.

“you’re good at that” he mumbled, gesturing towards your heartrender movements.

you nodded your head, a shy smile. “yeah i’ve had a lot of practice here.”

his face turned gloomy at that and you realized you had said the wrong thing. “yeah. i know” he said curtly.

you stopped for a minute, turning to look at kaz in the dimly lit hallway.

“i’m sorry i left okay? i know it hurt you, i can only imagine how much it must have sucked. it was horrible here at first, i missed you every day. but i will not apologize for enjoying myself here and taking advantage of what i was taught. i like it here. i have friends, and a life, and im good at what i do and i will not allow you to make me feel bad about that.” you said all in one breath.

kaz didn’t say anything, choosing to look down at the floor instead of you.

you sighed and took a step closer to him, you noticed he still wore the black gloves similar to the first pair that you had stolen for him when you two were younger.

“kaz,” you said, your voice shaking, “i missed you so much. i still miss you and you’re standing right in front of me. i get why you hate me but i really don’t want you to. so that’s why i’m helping you, that’s why i’m going to get you out of here without getting caught.”

you turned on your heel, prepared to continue to lead him away. but before you could get away he grabbed your hand and spun you back around.

he flinched at his own action and let go.

“i don’t hate you y/n. i get why you enjoyed yourself here, this over a life of petty and dangerous crime? of course this is the better opportunity but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt when you left.”

you bit your lip and nodded your head in understanding.

he looked directly into your eyes, “i knew you would be here but i thought, hey what are the chances of actually running into you. having to see you happy and having to live with the fact that i never came to look for you.”

you took a step closer to him, “kaz i don’t blame you for not coming to get me, i wouldn’t have wanted you to anyway.”

he looked at you and for the first time he looked desperate. kaz brekker was never desperate. and if he was, he didn’t show it.

“come home with us” he said.

you raised your eye brows in surprise.

“come home with me” he corrected, looking at the wall to avoid your eyes

it was the same voice he had used all those years ago, when he was begging for you to stay. he wanted to you stay with him. to come home. to go back to the place that had broke kaz and would probably have broken you.

but it was kaz.

but ketterdam wasn’t your home anymore.

kaz had been your home, but was he still?

the two of you stayed silent. there was still so much the two of you needed to say. how you had probably loved him as a kid. how you probably loved him now. how you regretted never writing, never trying. how you missed ketterdam. how this place would be perfect if kaz was here with you. but there wasn’t enough time or courage to say those things.

so instead, you raised your arms in your fighting grisha stance and smiled at him.

“how about we get you out of here first and then we can decide is i become a fugitive of ravka to go play crime boss in ketterdam?” you teased.

he almost gave you a grin and you continued walking, a new found peace settled between the two of you.

kaz brekker in the little palace, who should have thought.

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagine #six of crows imagine #six of crows #shadow and bone #grisha #Grishaverse #leigh bardugo #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #nina zenik #matthias helvar #inej gahfa

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occassionalfanficwriter · 3 years

Note

Heyhey! May I request childe x reader where the reader has been badly abused in the past? As a result she doesn’t mind when childe kidnaps her because childe has never hurt her, and treats her nicely? So since childe has work lmao he leaves a fatui agent to watch his s/o. But since his s/o has such a small appetite she doesn’t eat much. And since the fatui agent has a bad temper, what if he slaps her across the jaw so hard it breaks? So since then she can’t handle leaving childe’s side?Thank you

anon who hurt you? (•ω•`)this childe has yandere undertones but anyways you're welcome and enjoy.

Content warning for everyone else: allusions to domestic violence ,and non-graphic depiction of violence against women.

No Misfortune Without Blessings

Summary: Among the many myths about Tartaglia, few were dedicated to his love life. Even fewer dared to speak of the gentle love between him and his lady but in the soft and hushed whispers of the crowd, all would admit that they painted a pretty picture.

There was a boy.

You weren’t quite sure what to make of him. Shy and stuttering but with bright blue eyes that reminds you of the starry sky in the village. You liked him, in the same way you liked the morbid stories and descriptions of the adventurers in the tavern. You liked him too, in the same way you liked the rare flowers that grew in Snezhnayan winter.

And maybe the boy with the starry sky in his eyes and bright red hair liked you too. But it wasn’t something you paid attention to, there were stories and adventures to be had, knowledge to be shared and you decided it was more important.

More important than understanding what everyone your age liked or what accounted for normal. You never did quite understand everyone else in the same way you immediately understood Ajax. It was precisely because of this that you simply didn’t quite fit in, you were just as much of an outcast as Ajax was with his shyness and occasional stutter. You didn’t care for it, you found comfort in the knowledge you’d never be involved in messy affairs of the romantic and platonic kind.

Your world was peaceful.

There was Ajax, the stories from adventurers, and your hidden desire for something more beyond what the small seaside town you call home had to offer.

There used to be a boy with bright blue eyes that takes your breath away sometimes. Who had a burning red hair and warm smile that reminded you of the warm sunshine.

You loved to follow him around, notebook in hand filled with scribbles and experiments of different shorts. And Ajax loved you, perhaps, with the way he took you along for adventures on the edges of the woods, in the frozen lake, and taking small commissions from the neighbors.

The two of you had grown taller, childhood fat turning into muscles as your bodies hit puberty. Both of you had changed in so many ways, gone were the days when no one minded the two of you staying out together for a long period of time, without any companion. Whispers followed when the two of you held each other just a bit too long for what was appropriate.

Your world could not simply consist of Ajax and the growing longing you had for what the world had to offer. You didn’t like the change, neither of you two did. But you were much better at pretending than Ajax, so you studied and observed the rest, told this to Ajax and somehow the restrictions on you two became a big game of pretend. You pretended to understand the beauty that others found, pretended to fit in the scale of accepted normalcy.

And then, without you noticing the boy you loved dearly was gone. You stared blankly as you watched his parents cry and search parties used for a boy lost in the woods.

There used to be a boy and you weren’t quite sure what to make of him when he came back to you three months later.

You weren’t quite sure when it started, when your world expanded and collapsed until the only things left are the ashes of things you don’t quite recognize. You weren’t quite sure when you stopped yearning for a life of adventure. When you began to settle for whatever it was that was given to you.

Maybe it was when the boy you loved came back with dull blue eyes and a sharp look that told stories only the hardened and veteran adventurers understood. Maybe it was when you could no longer keep up with him, when trouble seeks him out and your parents dragged you away from him.

Maybe it was when one night he sneaks into your room bids you goodbye and makes you realize that the stars in his eyes never left, they were just clouded by something brighter and bigger than whatever it was that Morepesok had to offer.

Maybe it was when you woke up the next day and the boy you loved was taken away into a brighter and bigger place than the small sea-side village.

But that didn’t matter now, not when your whole body hurt and you laid limp on the cold wooden floors of the place that should be home but isn’t. You weren’t quite sure when you accepted this as normal, when the man your parents swore would take care of you became the one who hurt you. You weren’t quite sure when you started to forget all of that you loved dearly.

“...it hurts” you say out loud as tears prick on the edges of your eyes and you simply lay on the floor, ignoring the pain on your ribs, the blood on your mouth and countless other bruises that littered your skin.

You don’t recognize yourself anymore.

And you hate yourself for it.

You think of the boy you loved who had stars in his eyes and the sun in his soul and you yearn for him and what could have been.

There was a man with a charming smile and blue eyes, and the mask of the Harbingers. You weren’t quite sure what to think of him when he held your hand gently, and spoke to you about topics you used to love.

You weren’t quite sure what it meant when his eyes grew cold at the bruises on your skin and the whispers that followed you. Maybe you loved him, in the same way you loved Ajax, and the man you lived with. Maybe you loved him in the same way you loved the preserved heart in a jar that used to be yours.

There were a lot of maybes but you were sure that Tartaglia would never hurt you. The day he takes you away felt like a fairy tale, as if the boy you loved came back for you but you knew that Ajax was gone. And Tartaglia was the one who came for you so you stupidly went along with him.

You gave him your everything.

You gave him the tattered pieces of what could have been you, and allowed him to reshape you, until you were stronger than before. You relearned how to be human, how to be yourself, and you loved him for it. You learned how to speak his own love language, stayed by his side and accepted all of him until you weren’t sure where you ended and where he began.

Somehow, you stupidly believed that all of this would remain as it was. Until he had to leave for a long while and you can’t help but feel as if your world would collapse.

“Don’t go” you whispered as you held onto his clothes like a child.

“Don’t leave me” you begged as you shrink your frame and tried to fight the fear of being hated for something like this.

“I’m sorry” Tartaglia tells you, voice soft and gentle as he hugs you tenderly.

You want to cry but you don’t because you had always understood that he was meant for bigger and brighter things. Instead you sank in his chest, you wanted to imprint yourself in him, so that no matter how bright and beautiful the world outside of this home you built was, he’d never forget about you.

“Come back quickly.”

“I’ll be back before you even miss me.”

You don’t tell him that you’ve already begun missing him.

You never bothered to get along with Tartaglia’s subordinates. Not when you decided to ignore anything Fatui related since it meant that Tartaglia would never have to worry about you being used against him. You refused to be a burden.

This ignorance meant that despite treating them civilly you had no deep impression on them. It meant that when none of Tartaglia’s trusted aides were available to watch you and take care of whatever your needs were, some new recruit was given to you.

You didn’t care about it much. The new recruits tend to be distant and careful upon knowing who you were to Tartaglia. You didn’t care about what they called you behind your back. What mattered was Tartaglia and his thoughts.

Your heart was too small to include irrelevant matters.

Maybe if you learned how to be human properly, you would have realized the danger you were in. An upstart recruit from a noble lineage coupled with a bad temper would never be suited to your cold and distant attitude. The snark and biting remarks you ignored only added fuel to a fire you weren’t aware of.

You were too busy counting the days until Tartaglia’s return to pay attention to someone you found insignificant.

“You didn’t finish your food again” The recruit complained.

“Feed it to the dogs or whatever” you answered dismissing him with a wave of hand as you drank your water.

No one would care if you ate less than usual. Tartaglia would only ask if anything was wrong and you’d be quick to assure him that it was nothing. You knew that he would overthink and his subordinates would pay for it.

It was best for all parties that his mood remained good. You didn’t want others interfering with your time with him and you were quite sure that after the glamour of sparring with him faded off, his men had no want of being beaten to the ground.

This thought that you believed to be true made you blind. It made you let your guard down when malice was directed at you and you found yourself suddenly on the ground.

The harsh sound of your jaw breaking echoing loudly as you stared blankly on the marble tiles of the dining room. Somehow it felt like you were back in that place, and you could hear shouting and swearing around you.

‘I’m stronger than this’ You thought as you tried to force your body to move.

‘I’m stronger than this!’ You stubbornly insisted as your body remained frozen in the ground.

‘I’M STRONGER THAN THIS!’ You screamed inside your head as you felt like you were drowning again. You couldn’t breathe and you could no longer see anything.

The next thing you saw was Tartaglia on your bedside, asleep and visibly worse for wear. You stood up, opening your mouth only to quickly stop at the dull pain you felt. You could only stare at him with longing. The room was dark and only lit by the moonlight that seeped in through the windows.

You reached out for him, three soft squeezes on his hand as you gingerly kissed his calloused hand. You could tell that he was already awake and you waited for him to open his bright blue eyes that took your breath away.

“I won’t leave you alone anymore” Tartaglia says with sadness in his voice as he cradles you in his lap. You closed your eyes and tapped his lips thrice.

‘I love you’.

There was a girl with bright curious eyes that seemed to see through him. Ajax couldn’t keep his stutter out as he shyly introduced himself.

He loved her at first sight.

He loved her more when she took his hand and showed him interesting stuff. Each moment spent with her was an adventure. He loved the spark in her eyes when she talked about the nations beyond Snezhnaya.

He loved her eccentricities and never wanted her to change. But Ajax knew that if he remained as he was, he would never be able to keep her by his side.

The girl he loved yearned for something bigger and brighter than Morepesok and Ajax wanted to give it to her with his own two hands.

There used to be a girl with bright eyes and rarely smiled but could take his breath away when she smiled at him. Who loved all sorts of things without any care, who loved him in the same way she loved the animals they came across.

She was bright and warm and Ajax knew that she was destined for bigger things. That she was meant to explore the world beyond the sea and Ajax wanted to take her away and give her the greatest adventure.

He wanted her world to be made up of him, their adventures, and everything she loved. But the Abyss had no place for gentle dreams and soft loves. So he fought and fought until he realized his dream and set out for something bigger and brighter than him.

‘I want to give her the world’ Ajax whispered in the silence of the night as he fought for his life and then for fun.

He thought of the girl he loved who walked among the stars and he yearned for her. The Abyss had no room for the weak so he hid away what he could and threw away what he couldn’t for the sake of growing strong and paving the way for the girl he loved.

He came back and found solace in the stupid girl that didn’t understand everything yet. He protected her innocence even as she stared at his blood stained hands. He protected her soft and loving heart even as he felt his being torn apart.

He wanted to keep her by his side but he had always been the better fighter. She was better at pretending but she could never bring herself to fight back mercilessly. So he decided to fight for the two of them.

The Fatui was like the Abyss but it could never reach the harshness and brutality of a place seeped in desperation. He hid his heart away, keeping it with the girl he loved who cried for him. He fought his way up the ranks and thought of the girl he loved.

He thought of her as he took missions upon missions, thinking of her soft lips and sweet tears that made him want to take her with him. But he wasn’t strong enough to protect her yet so he leaves her behind, promising to return to her once more.

There used to be a girl who seemed to like she could take the world by storm.

There used to be a boy who loved her secretly and openly.

Now there was a woman whose light was dying, bright eyes dulled and heart trampled upon.

Now there was a man named Tartaglia whose heart burned and raged for those that dared to hurt the woman he loved.

He takes her away, leaves no traces and keeps her far away from the burnt down house that used to be her childhood home. He keeps her by his side and gives her pieces of the world.

Tartaglia with his bloodstained hands gently and lovingly held her in his arms as he dealt with the recruit. It was brutal and inhumane but all of his humanity was meant for the girl he loved and his family.

He gives her the best doctor and waits for her to wake up.

Thrice he made the mistake of leaving her behind.

‘This time, no matter what, I’ll keep you by my side.’

Among the myths about Tartaglia few were dedicated to the lady he always took along with him, be it in the battlefield or anywhere else. It was rumored that she was as gentle as Liyue’s glaze lilies, and as deadly as the ruin guards that littered across Teyvat.

But one thing was constant, where Tartaglia goes the lady follows. A warrior and his lady dominating battle fields across Teyvat.

There would be no surprise if one day the entire world fell at their feet.

#childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #yandere childe x reader #genshin impact childe x reader #genshin impact x reader

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skzsauce01 · 3 years

Text

Hymn to Myself

Anniversary Request Special

Synopsis: The Goddess of Spring tells a mortal the story of her abduction by the King of the Underworld. Follows the Homeric Hymn to Demeter.

Warning: kidnapping

Word Count: 2.6k

Pairing: fem Persephone!reader x Hades!Hyunjin

Dear mortal, listen closely, for I have deemed you worthy to hear my tale. You have danced in my name, burned offerings to me. You shall be rewarded for your worship. Lend me your ear now, and perhaps I will lend a hand in the future.

You know me by many names — The Maiden, The Younger, the Goddess of Spring — but today I will be the Queen of the Dead. There is no need to be so frightened. Your time has not come yet, nor will I be the one to ferry you to the Underworld, as you well know. Trembling and bowing your head for mercy will serve you no purpose but do as you like.

You have heard the tale, I am sure. The Dark-Haired One seizes a maiden and makes her his bride, as her mother, holy Night-Mare of the golden double-axe, ceases the earth’s harvest in her despair. The story you may have heard prior is my mother’s version, without the details of me in the Underworld.

Like most stories, it begins with the Cloud Collector, my father. Seeing that the King of the Underworld had no queen and that no goddess or nymph desired him, he offered him a bride, the flowerfaced daughter of the Corn-Mother. The King of the Dead accepted.

As you may have guessed, I did not know about this arrangement. The nymphs I surrounded myself with then, daughters of the Titan God of Rivers, did not either, yet they braided my hair and wove flowers in. Roses, crocuses, and hyacinths entangled with violets and irises to make a crown of spring. I still remember the way they fussed over me, singing songs and pulling at my scalp. I hated it. I only wanted to pick my blossoms. Once they had finished, I walked through the meadow, leaving them behind, gathering as many of the flowers I could into my arms.

Then I spotted a narcissus, its center as radiant as the sun and its petals the color of fresh milk. Its honey-sweet fragrance filled the sky and enchanted me. I approached it with both hands, ready to hold the bud to my nose, when the earth beneath me broke open.

A golden chariot drawn by sable-black horses leapt out, and I was snatched by the gloomy Lord. I cried out for my father, he of the thunderbolt, but he was the one who promised me, and I did not know that then. The King of the Dead had me in his grasp. He refused to let go. But still I cried a piercing scream, begging the pantheon of gods seated at Olympus to help, pleading Lord Helios in his own golden chariot to come down and save me. No one heard a thing when the chariot descended back into the earth.

And when we finally entered the Underworld, my voice had gone hoarse, my body limp. The flowers I clutched to my chest were the only remnants of the sunlit earth I had, but their petals had scattered into the wind and their stems wilted in the dark. The Dark-Haired One kept his arm on me, making sure I would not be able to flee. The shades wandered in the fields below us, their moans a constant hum.

Soon we stopped in front of his palace, a cold and imposing labyrinth with a locked gate reaching to the sky. A three-headed dog stood guard, saliva dripping from its maw. The King stepped off first and offered his hand to me, but I remained frozen on the chariot. It was still warm from the sun, and I wanted to soak in every last piece I could. The hound growled and lowered its center head to sniff me when I latched onto the side, even as the Lord of the house tried to drag me off.

“Leave me be,” I cried, pushing at his chest. “My father will punish you for this. He is the king of the heavens, and you will be struck with his bolt.”

“At the behest of the Thunderer, you are now my wife. Come, my queen, into your new home.”

I had no tears left, and I mutely followed him, keeping my eyes on the back of his wine-dark cloak. He led me through the gates, the corridors of his palace, all the way to the throne room. Two chairs stood next to each other, both as black as the horses and the sky. His was obsidian, etched with bone-white carvings and lined with onyx gems. The other, the ebony one intertwined with asphodel and pomegranates, belonged to me now.

“Are you pleased?” he asked.

I said nothing, for the fight in me had died along with the flowers I left between the paws of the hound.

“Are you frightened?”

Again, no sound left me. He made me sit on my throne, and I did with my head hung low. He cradled my face, and I shut my eyes. If he desired a kiss, then he could take it. I was a wife now, to the king of the Underworld too, and I would let my husband put his mouth on mine.

“Tired,” he declared after some time. “I will bring you ambrosia and nectar, so that you may recover.”

He brought the divine foods to me, but I did not eat. He tried to make conversation, but I did not speak. The scent of the asphodels and pomegranates were suffocating, and the musk of death coated the air untainted by natural fragrance. The thick slabs of wood underneath me were unyielding, and so was I. The Dark-Haired One was dismayed.

“What is it that you require?”

“I require that I be returned to my mother and to the earth.”

He smiled. “I have all of the riches of the earth. See what I have made for you.”

Humans called him the Wealthy One on occasion, and I understood that it was not merely a euphemism when he presented my crown to me: a golden-leaved garland with apple-red rubies the size of hen’s eggs and emeralds as vivid as moss, not a hint of death clouding its elegance. It was magnificent and befitting for a queen of spring. He undid the nymphs’ braids that still remained in my hair and placed the crown on my head.

“Are you happy now?” he asked.

“I will never be happy until I see the sun again.”

He frowned and left me alone on my throne, hoping I would change my mind. The ambrosia and nectar laid on the moonlight-silver tray. They glistened and glowed, their dangerously sweet scent enveloping the room, doing their best to entice me. Instead, I sat as rigid as a tree for days, languishing in my misery. Color faded from my features, and I looked like the very image of the Queen of the Dead, with my soulless eyes and ashen skin.

Day and night, I remained there. The Lord of the House was patient, as his realm was eternal and as I was immortal. He brought gifts to try to sway me: diamond birds perching on bronze branches, amethyst crocus bouquets with delicate sprigs of roses the colors of ripe peaches. I left them on the ground. They reminded me too much of what I no longer had. The treasures around me grew, but he persisted with his prizes and his attempts at conversation.

“There are many souls arriving today,” he would say. “How lovely,” I would reply.

“What do you think of the sky here?” he would ask, and I would tell him, “It is like you.”

“Would you like to see Cereberus again? I think he liked you,” to which I would answer, “I am content here.”

It was his offer to visit the Asphodel Meadows that drew me out of my fog.

We took his chariot, golden and gleaming as before. This time, he held out a hand for me, and I accepted. The three-headed dog at the entrance of the palace whined when I did not pat his heads like his master. The flowers I left as a peace offering earlier were gone, not even a broken stem lingering. I could only imagine that they were played with and eaten.

“He does like you,” the King whispered. He placed one arm around my shoulders as he held the reins with the other. I shrunk as much as I could, burying my nose in my hair so not to smell the death radiating off of him.

“Yes, I suppose he does.”

We stopped in one of the many fields, the asphodel ghostly white and fluttering in the breeze. The shades kept their distance when I stepped off the chariot and into the flowers. My bare feet touched the Underworld dirt, my ankles brushed the stalks as I roamed the meadow like I did that fateful day, plucking the prettiest blooms from their roots. The Dark-Haired One followed closely behind, and I did my best to keep my eyes on the iron sky as I wandered through more of the fields. Lone petals circled in the wind, adorning the false flowers of my crown with themselves. I thought about the nymphs — their songs, their chatter, their life — and nearly wept. Then I thought about my poor mother, with the beautiful garlands in her hair, finding no trace of me among the meadow, and I dropped to the ground.

“There is no need to cry,” said the Dark-Haired One softly. “The shades will not hurt you.”

“I want to go home,” I replied in-between my gasps. I thought that picking flowers would somehow soothe me, but they only pained my heart. “Please, let me return home.”

He held me up, and I saw up close the famed black locks that framed his face. “Home,” he smiled.

My spirits soared, and I clamored onto his chariot, eager to see the wispy clouds and splendid sun again. But I had deceived myself. For the Queen of the Underworld, the palace was home.

The throne was too far for my limp body to retire to, so he set me down upon a funeral couch. There, I laid and stared out the window at the vast number of souls inhabiting the fields. He brought me ambrosia and nectar once more, a feeble attempt that even he knew was wasted.

He ordered entertainers to sing and dance for me, but I stared at them like one of the many skulls carved on his throne.

However, my prayers were soon answered months later. The mighty Messenger of the Gods, with his golden wand, came and relayed my father’s message: I was to be returned to my mother, for she was wrathful against the gods. The Lord smiled and did not disobey the Thunderer’s orders.

“Go to your mother,” he said to me, “for I am not an unseemly husband. But you are my queen, and all those who do not perform your rituals with reverence, all those who do not perfectly burn offerings for you, will be punished.”

I did not care about those things. Still, I rejoiced and leapt from the couch with liveliness, my crown falling to the ground in my eagerness. To feel the warmth of the sun on my skin, to see the vibrant earth, to be with my mother — those were what mattered to me.

“Before you leave, I ask that you try the Underworld’s fruit,” he said, holding out a pomegranate. “As a blessing to us from the Queen of the Dead.”

“You have been nothing but kind to me, so I will,” I told him. I ate four of the seeds, red as the rubies on my Underworld crown and sweet as honey, before I could tolerate my impatience no longer.

The King’s chariot was already drawn with his sable-black horses. The dog eyed me curiously as I got onto the chariot with the Immortal Guide rather than his master. The messenger took the reins, and we ascended to the upper world. The taste of the pomegranate still coated my tongue when the earth cracked open.

We burst forth like a new sprout. The nymphs came out from the sea and flocked around, fussing like they did before. This time, I did not mind. I let them pull at my clothing and let them weave fragrant flowers in my hair.

My mother, with a dark robe, soon arrived. She saw me, stretched her arms out, and I ran into them, breathing in her familiar scent. She stroked my hair, all while murmuring in my ear about how I was safe now, how happy she was. I was happy too. I recounted my tale to her in a frenzy, words crashing into one another like the churning tides. We stayed together, roaming the fields, soaking in the sun and earth I had missed. I danced in the streams, playing with my nymphs in celebration, for I was home.

It was later that I learned that I was bound to the Underworld, having eaten the pomegranate seeds. I left with a heavy heart and arrived to the expectant Lord, smiling with his brows.

“You tricked me,” I said. I would not weep; I could endure my time here.

“It was a request you accepted,” he said as he strode to me with my crown. He adorned me with it, and I let him brush the loose tendrils from my face. “Welcome home, my queen.”

In the beginning, it was a partial home.

I left the palace as often as I could to roam among the asphodels and the shades. The shades grew acquainted with my presence and bowed to me, moaning cries of worship in that strange tongue of theirs. I learned to feed the horses with sweet pomegranate seeds to entice them into being obedient, and the golden chariot of the King became one of my possessions. I stayed away from him, for I still felt betrayed.

Despite my frigidness, he adored me like no other. The entertainers seemed to be a constant at his court now that I present. He offered to dance with me, to which I rejected every time. He played knucklebones with me on the rare occasion I was receptive. I suspected he let me win on several occasions in an attempt to open me up like a blooming flower. And whenever I returned from a walk through the fields, he would have a lavish bouquet of false flowers waiting on my throne.

However, over time I grew to recognize my stature. After all, not many goddesses could say that they had power like mine. I began to wear my royal title like a mantle, draping it around my shoulders and letting it trail behind me in my wake. I was not always merciful, as you may well know yourself, mortal, but it is nigh impossible to say that I was not fair. The Lord took this fervor of mine as a sign that I had forgiven him. I still do not know if I have.

I sit beside him, as his equal, commanding the dead just like he does. I let him kiss my cheek and sometimes return the favor if I am feeling kind that day. I dance with him, resting my head over his heart and breathing in his musk.

But he is the one who made me his bride and thrust the Underworld upon me.

It is difficult to say that I resent him. It is much easier to say that I cannot, and will never be able to, love him in the same way he loves me.

Thus, for four months of the year, I live as the Queen of the Dead, never as his wife.

Now, dear mortal, you have heard it all. Tell it to the world.

~ ad.gray

Extra: Sorry for the unholy amount of name euphemisms and epithets. The TL;DR is that I didn’t want the associations of the Greek gods’ relationships, and by extension their names, in this story because they’re a mess by modern standards, so I opted for euphemisms and epithets instead. I decided to not use names at all because consistency, I guess? This kind of works though since “Persephone” is telling the story to a mortal and mortals avoided saying certain god’s names, Persephone and Hades among them, out of fear or respect (source). Saying a god’s name gets their attention, and getting the god’s of death attention was considered unlucky (source). This story’s version of Persephone is pretty understanding, I guess. Also, I tried to mimic the style of the Homeric Hymn to Demeter (this was the translation I used), and the amount of descriptors is insane. Thanks for coming to my TedTalk.

Hope you enjoyed this! <3

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