#cw: emotional manipulation of a child
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not-krys · 2 years ago
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[Repost] Nurture-Ophelia
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Part of this set of WIP Wednesdays
Notes: Incomplete, oc lore building, pregnancy, emotional manipulation, specifically of a child
Banner was from a background I found on google ages ago, so unsure if the source exists anymore
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"My dearest Ophelia! Guess what!"
A young girl, barely more than eleven with too big shoes on her feet and her dress more patch than actual garment, stood in a dark hallway, her dark carnelian eyes already turning hollow at the sound of the familiar voice. It was her mother's voice, cheerful and excited.
The woman, smelling of strong perfume and possibly the smallest hint of alcohol--Ophelia couldn't tell because of the overpowering scent of patchouli-- put one hand on her tiny shoulder while the other patted her stomach with glee. Ophelia froze.
"You're gonna be a big sister! Again!" Her mother laughed like a braying donkey, "I just confirmed it this morning! It's gonna be a boy this time, I'm sure of it!"
"That's what you said about Rosalind. And Portia. And about Bianca and Beatrice."
"And I love all of you, and Cordelia too, very, very much!" She said, "but we still need a boy, a boy, Ophelia! We just have to hope and wish for it!"
"What if it's another girl, mother? What will you do then?"
"Well… then me and your papa are gonna have to try again!"
The little girl, far wiser for her age than she should be, sighed.
"You have six daughters now," said Ophelia, "And the possibility of a seventh coming in six months time."
"No, no, you're going to have a handsome little brother and he's going to protect all of us, forever and always!"
"And if it is another girl, Mother, you know what that's going to mean."
"No!" She hugged the girl tight to her chest, her body racked with sudden sobs, "I'm not sending my little girls off to be married! Away from me! After all the love and nurturing I did, they can't be taken from me!"
Ophelia grit her teeth and held her tongue, knowing it would only upset her mother further. Instead, she loosely wrapped her arms around her crying mother, giving her a few pats on her back. The woman sniffed loudly.
"Thank you, dear," she said, clearing her throat, "you've always been such a good girl. I'm so proud of you, Ophelia."
"Yes, Mother, I know, I know."
"I can always count on you, my number one girl," she kissed Ophelia's forehead, taking her little hand to put on her belly, "you'll look after your little brother too and take such good care of him. I just know it."
Ophelia curled her fingers, reluctant to touch her mother, but her mother still insisted, forcefully spreading her tiny digits so her palm rested open against her stomach. It was still relatively flat, warm and squishy to the touch, but Ophelia still bit her lip to keep calm, knowing this would be a more common occurrence as the months wore on, the same as her mother had done when she had her younger sisters in her belly.
She took in a shaking breath.
"I'll look after him, Mother. Just like I have Cordelia. And Rosalind. And Portia. And Beatrice and Bianca."
"Good girl, Ophelia." She patted Ophelia's hand, still held against her belly, "Good girl."
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bambiraptorx · 4 months ago
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Content Warning: ableism, disfiguremisia, emotional manipulation/ emotional abuse
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[I.D. First page of a three page comic, using Big Mama from ROTTMNT and a fan design for her assistant. In this comic, Venus is a small child. She is based on a yellow-bellied slider and has stripes around her eyes, going up her forehead, down her chin and neck, and around her arms and legs. She also has a mixed bilateral cleft lip, with a complete cleft on the right side of her mouth and a much smaller incomplete cleft on the left. She's missing a tooth under her complete cleft.
In the first panel, Big Mama holds her hands out towards Venus, and says "Turtleboo!" Her speech bubbles are cloudlike, with small dots and hearts hovering around them. Venus reaches out too, an excited grin on her face, and yells "Mama!!" In contrast, her speech bubbles are much smoother. In the second panel, Big Mama holds Venus and kisses her cheek. She says "How is my darling girl?" Venus smiles happily and says "Happy to shee you!" Big Mama responds, "Oh, good. I've come for a little chizzy-chat." End I.D. 1 of 2.]
Rest of comic under the cut, mind the content warnings above.
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[I.D. The second page has three panels. The first is a closeup of the bottom half Big Mama's face, Venus leaning her head contently against Big Mama's cheek. Big Mama frowns very slightly. In the next panel, she smiles, and says "I've decided you need a new name, my poppet." Venus looks up at her with a questioning expression. In the third panel, Big Mama is shown from farther away, her eyes cut off by the panel's borders, with Venus in her arms and looking at her. Venus asks. "But why? I like Venush, Mama."
The final page has two panels. In the first, Big Mama bends down and sets Venus on the floor. Venus holds onto her hand and looks confused as Big Mama says "Oh, dearest, it just doesn't fit you." The next panel shows a close up of Venus' face, a look of shock and betrayal as tears gather in her eyes. Big Mama's hand rests on her head as she says "Venus was beautiful." The words are written in cursive, and lay over Venus, partially see through. Behind her is a pattern that looks like a heart beat monitor line, then transforms into a cluster of jagged, squiggly lines. End I.D. 2 of 2.]
A little backstory for why my version of Big Mama's assistant is referred to as both Venus and Frida: she originally was Venus, but was forced to pick a new name.
Big Mama does have her reasons for doing this (given that she basically kidnapped Venus from Draxum, the name change helps to hide her identity so Draxum won't try to get her back), but at the end of the day she knows it's cruel. She doesn't say things like this much, but when she does it's very intentional.
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abubblingcandle · 4 months ago
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Augusnippets Day 1 - Brainwashing - Ted Lasso
CW - Past Child Abuse, Emotional Manipulation
Jamie was loving this whole therapy thing. Time to just talk about himself ... amazing! Until Dr Fieldstone starts asking questions about his childhood.
Here on AO3 @augusnippets
When Jamie started therapy with Doctor Fieldstone, he hadn’t thought twice about it really. Keeley seemed to think it was a good idea and he just got to sit there and talk about himself. Doctor Fieldstone just nodded, smiled and wrote stuff down. It was relaxing really. He should have started doing this sooner.
But then the bubble burst. Because turns out therapy isn’t just paying people to let you talk at them. You are expected to talk about certain stuff that you don’t want to talk about because you need to do that to get better. Which Jamie still thinks is a massive pile of horse shit. Jamie fucking Tartt does not need to talk to someone to get better. He’s already the best.
Despite that Doctor Fieldstone was determined to talk about his dad.
She had found out about the rules somewhere in Jamie's ramblings. That made it sound worse than it was. Jamie wasn't trying to hide his dad's rules from her, he genuinely thought she wouldn't care. But she did care, cared about it quite a lot really and they spent the whole session talking about them which was odd because every parent had rules for their kid. And they were just good things to keep in mind while he was still playing. They made him good. So yeah ... Jamie didn't know why Sharon was determined to talk about them but she got him to make a list and now the list was taunting him as he read it out to her. 
1 - Take any opportunity to show your talent.
"It's simple son. This game is all about being noticed. If you sit back, let others take the glory then you'll get dropped. You'll be forgotten. You'll be worthless. You don't want to end up like that. Football's all you've got going for you. Don't give them the opportunity to forget you."
2 - Only spend time around people who can make you better or make you look better 
"Friends? With that prat ... Jamie. Jamie I expect better. Both from you and for you. Friendship is a waste. They'll work out who you really are, what you really are and then either try and use you or throw you away. We don't want that do we? Friendship is only worth it if it benefits you. Does this friend ... Jacob? Does being friends with Jacob being anything to your career? ... No. Then you won't see him again."
3 - Your money is money for the family
"You don't get to say no Jamie. I need this which means we need this. You wouldn't want your family to go without would you Jamie? Do you know how much money I spent keeping you alive brat? Huh? Speak up. Yeah, a lot more than your little toys. I kept you in football which is why you are getting paid. It's time you repaid the favour."
4 - Any available time must be spent improving
"What are you doing? Fucking video games. Who said you could play games Jamie? No, get up. If you've got time to play games you've got time to train. I don't care that it's raining, you'll have to play games in the rain won't you? So stop sulking and run."
5 - Tartt men are not soft. Emotions are a choice and a waste of time. 
"Get up. James I told you to get up. Stop that noise and get a grip. Being a soft fucking wuss. So what it hurts huh? You wanna see your fucking mummy? You're a Tartt. We ain't fucking soft, we don't fucking cry. You are in control of your own emotions. If you show people you are weak then they won't trust you yeah. They won't like you. I don't even fucking like you right now as your fucking weeping and I'm your dad. Get yourself together or you're walking home."
6 - Playing through the pain makes you stronger 
"You ain't earnt any drugs lad stop sulking. You can walk can't ya? Then you're fine. When I were a lad we didn't get tablets for nothing. It toughens you up. You play through the pain you hear me then if someone takes you down in a game you'll get back up to make them regret it. See? It's for your own good. Now up we get."
7 - Stop hunting for praise
"Nobody in life kid is going to throw you a fucking party for doing your job. If you're waiting for someone to give you a well done for trying medal then you'll be waiting an age. Scored a goal, so what. Should've scored two. The only time you deserve a pat on the back is when you have a real winners medal that you've earnt right. So stop asking if you've done good, the answer should always be do better."
8 - Losses are your responsibility and need to be apologised for
"You're the best player out there junior. You know that. Everyone knows that, if they don't they're fucking dense. So if your team loses huh, that's on you. You fucking lost and that makes you are fucking loser. No Tartt is a fucking loser on my watch. Apologise. Say you're sorry for being a fucking loser Jamie."
9 - You see a goal scoring opportunity, you take it
"You think those other lads out there are thinking about you when they get a chance to shoot. No one on that team gives a flying fuck about you Jamie. Only I care about your success here and you need to start caring too. If I see you pass when you could shoot again Jamie you'll regret it alright. You'll regret it." 
10 - Instructions from me are not optional
"No? Did you just tell me no? Did that fall knock another bleeding screw loose in that empty head of yours. You don't tell me no Jamie. You don't tell me what to do. You are not in charge here and you never will be. You get that junior? Has that knocked it's way into that thick skull. You don't get to say no."
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fnaf-is-awesome201 · 2 years ago
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Haphephobia
Haphephobia [haf-uh-foh-bee-uh] noun- the fear of being touched.
During her time in control, Vanny made sure that the murders she committed were an unforgettable experience for Vanessa…
Here we go, we got another one. Once again, based on an idea from @halogenrobotics ‘s idea list. This time, one based on Idea 6. Once again, it’s pretty long, so most of it will be under the read more.
WARNINGS: This story contains blood, death, and descriptions of violence. If that’s not something you’re comfortable with, feel free to scroll past it. You have been warned.
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A scene that was all too familiar was playing out in the darkened, maze-like hallways of the Pizzaplex. Vanny stalked the halls, following a fresh trail of blood to find her target, her laugh echoing off the walls as she pranced along, getting closer and closer.
“Oh, the children always want to play hide-and-seek!” Vanny chuckled to herself. “Too bad they always lose…” She giggled gleefully as she skipped down the hall, the blood trail starting to form small pools, with more and more pools dotting the floor the further she went. “Isn’t that right, Vanessa?”
“Please… you don’t have to do this…" Vanessa said from within her mental prison. Vanny could feel Vanessa trying to resist, trying to force her to stop. She laughed and continued down the hall, now slightly faster.
“Aw, do you really think so? Why not? Why should I stop?” She paused for a moment to find the trail again, the blood beginning to blend in with the dark floors in the low light.
“Because it’s wrong!” Vanny scoffed at Vanessa’s response, tilting her head to the side.
“You’ve tried that one already. I couldn’t care less if it’s wrong or right!” She heard a faint noise behind one of the doors near the end of the hallway. She hummed quietly to herself in amusement, adjusting her course slightly and making her way to the door.
“… don’t you have enough by now? Don’t you have enough to ‘fix him’, as you said?” Vanessa replied, desperate for a way to convince Vanny to stop.
For a second, there was nothing but silence and the sound of Vanny’s footsteps as she approached the door. Then, Vanny began to laugh, her slight chuckle quickly building into a maniacal cackle as she paused in front of the door.
“Oh, Vanessa… poor, sweet, naive Vanessa,” she sighed as she attempted to control her laughter. “You still think this is all for Him?”
“… w-what?” Vanessa replied after a moment's pause. 
Vanny quietly giggled to herself as she ran the finger of her glove across the blade of her knife, leaving streaks of blood behind on the light fabric. After staring at her bloodied glove for a moment, she raised her hand up to her mask, motioning for Vanessa to be quiet.
“Shhhhhh… Want to hear a secret, Vanessa?” She lowered her voice, now speaking just barely above a whisper. “I only needed one child to ‘have enough’ to fix him.” She put a hand over the mouth of the mask in a shocked gesture, letting out an overly dramatic gasp before snickering at Vanessa’s stunned silence.
“...but… why-” 
Vanny leaned against the wall next to the door, letting out a sigh as she gently shook her head.
“You don’t get it yet?” She tilted her head to the side and mockingly tsk-tsked at Vanessa. “Don’t you see? It’s all because of you!” She pushed off of the wall and meandered around the space in front of the door. “I revel in your misery. The sound of your suffering is music to my ears!” Her tone was suddenly very stern, her words practically dripping with venom and contempt. She hummed slightly as she walked back over to the door, leaving her hand hovering on the door handle for a second. “Besides, it’s just too much fun!” She cackled again as Vanessa stayed silent.
Vanny slowly opened the door, the creaking hinges echoing into the darkness of the packed storage room behind it. She stared into the darkness, scanning every inch of the entrance before taking a step inside.
“Ready or not, here I come!” She began wandering through the rows of shelves stacked high with boxes, searching high and low. “Where are you?” She hummed quietly to herself as she continued on, the eyes of her mask casting a slight red glow on the space around her.
Suddenly, she heard the sound of boxes falling over near the back of the room, the contents clanging against the metal shelves. She whipped around to face the noise and laughed.
“Found you…” She quietly strolled through the maze of boxes, making her way to the back corner of the room. She took one last turn, and sitting curled up in the corner was a young boy. He was sitting in a small pool of blood, his now red sweater wrapped around a deep gash in his leg. Tears were streaming down his face as he tried to stay quiet, hoping Vanny would just pass by him.
Vanny slowly walked forward, pretending she couldn’t see the boy and searching the shelves instead of looking at him. As she passed in front of him, out of the corner of her eye she noticed him trying to grab something on the floor in front of him. She quickly turned towards him and pounced, using her arm to pin him against the wall. He dropped the flashlight he was reaching for, causing the light to turn on, casting a flickering beam of light onto Vanny’s mask.
“No! Stop it! Leave him alone!” Vanessa’s pleas went ignored as Vanny stared deep into the child’s eyes as he sobbed loudly, his face twisted in pain and his eyes full of fear. She reached a hand up to her mask, and the lights flickered off for a moment. When the light turned back on, Vanessa’s face was staring back at the child, her eyes wide and an unnerving smile spread across her face. After a moment, the boy’s face dropped as he recognized the face staring back at him.
“V-Vanessa…?” The boy’s voice was quiet and weak, his face pale from fear and loss of blood. “Wh-why…” Vanny lifted the knife in her hand, the remaining blood on the blade glinting in the light. The boy tried to free himself, but he was far too weak to fight back against Vanny. She laughed at the boy, amused by his futile struggle.
“STOP! PLEASE, STOP!” Vanessa internally cried out.
“I win…” Vanny said as she brought the knife down, plunging it deep into the boy’s chest.
“NO!” 
 Vanny placed the knife down at her side, staring into the boy’s eyes as he bled.
“Time for my favorite part.” She hugged the child close to her chest as he began to bleed out, watching the light leave his eyes.
“Please… no… not again…” Vanessa thought to herself as she felt the blood start to seep through the fabric of the costume. The boy’s pulse slowed, and his breathing became slow and shallow. ”No… no… I…”
Vanny stood up and laughed, a terrifying smile spread across her face as she put her mask back on.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” Vanessa thought before slowly going silent, her guilt and grief weighing down heavily upon her. Vanny hummed to herself as she carried the child, calmly making her way back to the door.
“Oh, come on now, why so blue?” She giggled softly to herself as she made her way back out into the hallway. “After all…” she paused for a moment, her gleeful facade fading away as her tone shifted, becoming far more serious and sinister, “This is all YOUR fault.” She skipped down the hall, her own bloody footprints trailing behind her. “YOU found Him. YOU found all the pieces. YOU put him back together. YOU are the reason we’re all here in the first place.” She sighed and tilted her head to the side. “Face the facts, Vanessa. If it weren’t for you, none of this would have happened in the first place. It’s all. Your. Fault.”
“...I-I didn’t know, I…I thought it was just… a game…” Vanny tipped her head back at Vanessa’s response and cackled so loudly that the sound created a metallic ringing as it echoed off of the metal doors in the hallway.
“You really think that matters, Vanessa?! It changes NOTHING! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!” She continued to laugh, seemingly unable to stop, as she carried the child through the winding halls of the Pizzaplex, going deeper and deeper into the caverns below the building.
“I think that’s enough for now, don’t you?” Vanny paused for a moment, looking down at the child in her arms. “Goodbye, Vanessa. See you again real soon…”
“WAIT-” 
Vanessa’s world faded away, her plea again falling on deaf ears, and once again she was alone, trapped in a void with no escape.
Over the next several months, Vanny continued on her rampage, tormenting Vanessa. The number of missing children continued to grow as time went on. She was an ever-present, looming threat, showing no signs of slowing down or stopping. Then, one day, something changed…
As her surroundings began to focus back in, Vanessa could feel that something was different this time. Vanny was running up towards the catwalks that led to her hideout, and Vanessa could feel Vanny’s anxiety building. She wasn’t laughing as she usually was, and she wasn’t calmly tracking someone to their inevitable demise. She was furious, locked in a frenzied chase with an unknown target.
Instead of being scared, Vanessa felt confused for some reason. “Why does this seem so… familiar?” she thought to herself.
Before she could continue this line of thinking, her attention was drawn to a familiar door at the other end of the catwalk.
“I wouldn’t want you to miss THIS one, Vanessa…” Vanny tightened her grip on the knife as she ran towards the door. When she got to the door, she was shocked to discover that it refused to open, no matter what she tried. As she looked through the window, she could see that it was locked from the inside, and there was a child inside her room, trying to finish the game on the arcade machine she had hidden there.
“... Gregory?” Vanessa could feel Vanny getting angrier, seething with rage as she tried to think of a way to get in.
“You think you can stop me so easily, you brat?!” Vanny grabbed the railing to the catwalk and pulled as hard as she could, breaking off one of the bars in the process. “I CAN’T BE STOPPED!” She raised the piece of railing, and quickly bashed it against the window, causing it to crack and splinter. She threw the railing down and punched through the weakened glass, pushing the button on the other side to open the door.
As the door slid open, she charged at Gregory, her knife held high above her head. Gregory turned to try and run, but it was already too late. The knife pierced deep into his chest just as he turned, and he fell to the floor, his eyes wide in shock.
Vanny let out a triumphant cackle, taking her knife and throwing it to the side.
“I ALWAYS WIN!” She laughed for a moment or two, staring down at Gregory as he began to bleed onto the floor. However, her laughter was soon silenced as she heard a noise from the arcade machine. She turned towards it and froze. The screen flashed to black, and an error message was flashing on the screen. Gregory had finished the game.
“No…” Vanessa watched as Vanny’s vision started to dissolve into a mess of glitches and static. “No, no, no!” She watched as Vanny desperately slammed her hands on the buttons of the machine, trying in vain to undo what had been done. “NO!” She could feel Vanny fading away, still desperately clawing for control over Vanessa even as she began to disappear. Vanessa could hear Vanny’s shrieks and screams echo inside her head. It was the first and only time Vanny had ever expressed true terror. Finally, her cries ceased. Vanny was gone.
Vanessa reached out and braced herself against the wall, trying to keep herself from falling as she regained control of herself. As soon as she could, she quickly reached up and grabbed the mask, tearing it off and throwing it across the room, the red lenses shattering as they hit the wall. She gasped for air as soon as the mask was off, still too stunned to speak. She snapped out of it when she heard a faint gasping noise from elsewhere in the room.
“Gregory!” She ran over to him and knelt down beside him, staring in terror at the blood pool forming on the floor. “No no no, what have I done…” 
She tore off her gloves, holding them against his chest to try and stop the bleeding. The blood quickly soaked through the fabric, staining her hands red. After a second, she ripped off part of the costume to use to stop the bleeding, smearing blood on her white shirt underneath in the process. Vanessa desperately tried to wrap his wounds, doing anything she could think of to try to save him. 
“I-I’m so sorry, I… I didn’t… I would never… I-I…” she said through tears that were welling up in her eyes.
“I-is she… gone?” Gregory asked.
Vanessa froze, startled and worried. Gregory sounded very weak, his voice just barely above a whisper, his words uttered between choked gasps. Vanessa couldn’t respond at first, unable to form words. All she could manage to do was nod in response. Gregory let out a shallow sigh, somewhat relieved.
“I… I did it.” He smiled weakly at Vanessa. “At least I did… something right… something… good…before-”
Vanessa felt her stomach drop. While Gregory’s voice was weak, his tone was calm and sincere, despite the dire circumstances. He struggled more and more to speak as time passed.
“NO, don’t… please don’t say that… you won’t die, I-I promise. Just… just stay with me!” Vanessa replied.
Vanessa knew she couldn’t fix this, at least not all on her own. She looked around the room, desperate to find something she could use to call for help, but the room was barren. She looked back at Gregory, noticing that he was already bleeding through the fabric she had bandaged his wounds with. Seeing no other option, Vanessa carefully picked him up and carried him out of the room, trying to get to a phone.
“Vanessa?” Gregory was shaking and cold, and his skin was pale from loss of blood. “I… I-I’m scared…”
“No no no, i-it’s okay… y-you’ll be fine, I promise. Just hold on, please…” Vanessa said, trying to reassure him.
Vanessa picked up her pace, walking quickly through the maintenance hallways, trying to think of where she could find a phone. She could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears, and her blind panic blurred her surroundings, making it harder to navigate through the maze of hallways before her. After walking for a little while, she wandered through a door and found herself by the front desk at the entrance to Fazer Blast. She looked around and saw a phone sitting on the front desk. She sighed, relieved, and took a few steps towards the phone. It was then that Vanessa noticed something that made her freeze dead in her tracks.
Gregory wasn’t moving.
Vanessa’s heart sank as she looked down at him. His eyes were closed, and his arms hung limp and lifeless at his sides.
“Gregory?” Vanessa got no response. “Gregory, please… wake up…”
The tears that Vanessa had been struggling to hold back now flowed freely down her face.
“Please wake up… please, I-I’m sorry, I-” She paused for a moment, her face slowly twisting in anguish, before she hugged Gregory close to her and fell to her knees. “Please… please, no, you can’t be… please… come back!” Vanessa begged. She closed her eyes so tight that it hurt in an attempt to keep herself from breaking down completely. 
“Please don’t go… I’m sorry, please, please don’t go!” She hugged him tighter as she begged, even though she knew he was already gone.
“No, please… no… no no no no…” She couldn’t hold it in any longer. She broke down, sobbing loudly as a river of tears flowed from her face. She tossed her head back and wailed at the top of her lungs, crying uncontrollably. “NOOO-”
“Vanessa!” 
Vanessa’s eyes snapped open and she sat bolt upright in her bed, gasping in shock. Her face was wet with tears, causing strands of her hair to stick to her face. Her breathing was heavy and panicked as her eyes darted around the room, struggling to focus. When her vision was finally able to focus, she could see Gregory standing beside her bed, next to him was a remote control Freddy doll that was given to Freddy so that he and Gregory could keep in touch after he left the Pizzaplex. The lamp by her bedside had been turned on, casting a warm glow throughout the room.
Vanessa stared blankly at them for a moment, still trying to catch her breath.
“Are you alright, Vanessa?” Freddy asked. Although the doll’s face remained expressionless, Freddy’s voice was filled with concern as he stepped closer to Vanessa.
“Yeah, you okay? We heard you screaming from my room,” Gregory yawned. “You even woke me up, and I’m a pretty heavy sleeper.”
Vanessa looked around once again, scanning the room, reassuring herself that everything was okay. It had just been a nightmare. She was at home, far away from the Pizzaplex. Vanny was gone. Gregory was safe. She was safe. 
Vanessa breathed a shaky sigh of relief as she wiped the tears from her face. She looked back towards Gregory and Freddy, feeling slightly guilty.
“Yeah, I… I-I’m fine. Just… just a dumb nightmare… i-it’s fine.” She said, taking a deep breath while wiping more tears from her eyes.
“It didn’t sound fine…” Gregory replied, not convinced.
“I have to agree with Gregory. It sounded like a bad nightmare. Would you like to talk about it?” Freddy inquired, tilting his head slightly and awaiting a response.
Vanessa froze for a second, her heart starting to beat faster, the sound of Vanny’s laughter echoing in her memory as she thought back on her nightmare. She quickly shook her head, as if trying to make the memories disappear, before looking back towards Freddy and Gregory.
“NO, no… i-it’s alright, really.” She took a deep breath and sighed. “Look, I-I’m sorry I woke you up. I’ll… try to be quieter.”
“That’s not the problem here, Vanessa…” Gregory grumbled, just barely loud enough for Vanessa to hear him.
“I’m fine, Gregory, really. Please, just go back to bed.” Vanessa closed her eyes and put her hands on her head, trying to keep herself calm.
“Yeah, there’s no way in hell I’m leaving you like this-”
“Gregory! Language!” Freddy interjected in a disapproving tone. 
Gregory rolled his eyes and continued, “Look, it’s obvious that there was something really bad about this one. Maybe if you tell us what happened, it will help.”
After a moment or two of complete silence, Vanessa sighed and relented.
“Alright, fine.” After a brief moment of hesitation, she took a deep breath and tried to explain. “It… it was about… THAT night… at the Pizzaplex…”  She glanced over at Gregory. “You know the one.”
Gregory nodded in agreement, then waited for Vanessa to continue.
“But this time SHE… She got to you… after you finished the game…”
Gregory’s eyes widened in shock. He stared blankly at Vanessa as she began to break down, struggling to continue and trying her best to hold back tears, her voice breaking from the stress.
“And I… I-I tried to… I-I tried to save you but… there just wasn’t anything I could do and… and…” Vanessa held her head in her hands, covering her face. 
Her voice was barely above a whisper as she continued, eyes filled with tears. “You… y-you died in my arms…” She couldn’t hold it back anymore and burst into tears, unable to speak.
Gregory and Freddy looked at each other, unsure of what to do at first. Then, Gregory turned back towards Vanessa, clambered up onto the bed, and gave her the biggest hug he could. 
Vanessa gasped softly and froze, startled at first. A feeling of dread filled her chest as her breathing became faster and she could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears like thunder in a lightning storm. She remained frozen in place, even though every thought racing through her head was screaming at her to get Gregory away, to get him somewhere safe and away from HER.
After a moment, Vanessa noticed that something was different. Gregory’s heartbeat wasn’t slowing down, his blood wasn’t soaking through her clothing, and he was still breathing. He wasn’t dying. Gregory was fine. She could hardly remember the last time something like this had happened.
Hesitantly, she started to close her arms around Gregory. As she fully reciprocated the hug, Vanessa felt her panic start to dissipate and a rush of emotions came crashing down on her. She hugged him tightly, holding onto him like he was a lifeline, grounding her to reality. Everything was fine. She was fine. She wasn’t a monster. She wasn’t Vanny.
“Everything’s okay. We’re both safe, see? Nothing bad is going to happen. I promise.” Gregory reassured Vanessa while hugging her tightly as she cried, giving her the time to let her feelings out. Freddy joined in on the hug, clumsily crawling up onto the bed and gently hugging Vanessa. After a few minutes, Vanessa managed to calm down, her crying reduced to quiet sniffling. Gregory and Freddy stopped hugging Vanessa, backing up to give her some space.
“Are you feeling better now, Vanessa?” Freddy asked. Vanessa nodded as she wiped the remaining tears from her face.
“Yeah…” Vanessa smiled slightly, her voice quiet and calm. “Thank you, I really needed that.”
“Hey, no problem! You needed help. We weren’t just going to leave you like that.” Gregory replied, smiling at Vanessa.
“Hey, can… can you guys stay with me for the night? Please? I just… I don’t really want to be alone right now… if that's okay…” Vanessa said hesitantly. 
Freddy and Gregory looked at each other, thought for a second, then nodded in agreement.
“Yeah, sure! It’s fine with me.” Gregory answered.
“Yes, it will be like having a sleepover!” Freddy stated enthusiastically. Gregory and Vanessa chuckled at his response. 
Vanessa scooted over and lifted the blanket, allowing Gregory and Freddy to get under the covers. They stayed up and talked for a little while, mostly discussing what they wanted to do the next day. Slowly, one by one, they all started to fall asleep.
As Vanessa started to drift off to sleep, she looked over at Gregory. She gently brushed his hair out of his face and carefully pulled the covers up and tucked him in for the night.
“Thank you, my little knight… Sleep well.” Vanessa whispered, trying not to wake him up. She smiled, taking a deep breath before reaching over, turning off the light, and closing her eyes. She breathed a sigh of relief as she finally fell asleep, her mind clear of nightmares for the first time in a long time.
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pain-is-my-game · 2 years ago
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I love how parents deny small acts of kindness from us in order to teach "responsibility" but we're still expected to show them those same acts of kindness because if we don't it's considered selfish and uncaring.
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bubblebbunch · 5 months ago
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Childhood.
1. Luca and Sabrina, 7 and 2 years old. They used to be thick as thieves, but after their parents passed away, things were never quite the same again... the love they used to have for one another is what fuels Sabrina's hatred towards him today.
2. Noel, when he was still known as Noelle, coming home from school to his alcoholic father. Knowing that if he was ever to get anything around this house, he better act the part of a perfect child, as well as hiding any single thing he may want to keep to himself... He's already begun practising that ever-present smile of his.
3. Corwin's mother did, just like him, struggle with BPD and depression. Often accusing her son of lying to her and not caring about her, worried that he was going to leave her with his dad and that he actually hated her... After his parents' divorce, followed by a planned kidnapping by his own mother, Corwin learned very early on that love is a very, very complicated emotion.
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1pcii · 11 months ago
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thinking about younger 124ji as years of this kind of unchecked thinking and behaviour, mixed with their unnatural lack of empathy bringing them to the cartoonist extremes they display in canon.
#cw for strangulation and child death for the video clip#I've been thinking alot about the vinsmokes and Eva parallels lately#how similar yet opposite gendou and judge are#gendou doing everything for the sake/memory of his wife at the expense of humanity. judge doing everything for germa at the expence of#his wife/family#yet they both end up hurting and augmenting unatural circumstances for their children in very similar ways#they are but liabilities. sacrifices. pawns in a game they would kill themselves trying to win. cast out and abused for 'failing'#I find rei parallels especially interesting. she's a very underappreciated character already imo. and it's easy to make the shinji/sanji#connection#but Rei has so many layers to her that can be akin to the vinsmoke siblings#she is like reiju in that she does have emotion but her subservient position under judge(/gendou) means that it means very little in the#grand scheme of things#and yet she can't help but to /feel/ when around sanji(/shinji). a testimony of the love of her late mother#she is also similar to 124ji in that she is replaceable. always at risk of the technology that brought her into the world as she is#she has been molded into the perfect soldier via gendou's emotional manipulation and as such only expresses what is necessary for her#position. only parrots back what he exposes her to. unaware of it's weight or ramifications on other people#124ji I'd say have that to an extream in that violence and malice are actively encouraged in their minds by the fact they do seem to be#able to express /negative/ emotions#which naturally lead them to growing into the abusive assholes they are today#but it's sad yknow? that they never had the chance to be anything else#psii.txt#psii.mp4#text#meta#vinsmoke siblings#vinsmoke ichiji#vinsmoke niji#vinsmoke yonji#124ji
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cooper-magnolia · 1 year ago
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✂ - a vivid memory
[ memory start: a young cooper is sitting in an empty room with 2 air mattresses on the floor, working on homework. he’s about 12 years old at this point. staying at his cousin’s house on a trip with his aunt barbara. he’s taking breaks in between assignments to email a friend. he tells them he wants to talk about something, but he’s worried his aunt will read is since she insists on having access to his gmail account and monitoring everything that happens on it. his friend suggests to send them an email, and then delete it once they’ve read it. so fae start typing an email. it talks about the lack of privacy around barbara, and the constant high expectations and beliefs being pushed on him. he’s almost done when he gets a group conference call from a teacher he has to answer. 2 minutes into the call, while his mic is muted, barbara bursts into the room, furious. she had already read the email draft after two minutes of it’s existence. she yells at him about how he doesn’t deserve privacy and he’s being ungrateful and spoilt. he starts to cry from being screamed at, but does his best to hide it since he’s on a call with his teacher and all his classmates. barbara leaves and slams the door, shaking the whole room. the call ends shortly after, and cooper sits down and cries as quietly as he can. barbara re enters the room. she tells him he’s crying because he knows he’s a liar and has nothing to really be upset about, and explains how she, the person screaming at him and stalking his email, was actually the victim and cooper was the one in the wrong. cooper nods through tears as barbara tells him she “forgives” him despite his behavior. barbara then gets up from the air mattress and takes cooper’s computer and phone, and motions for him to follow him into the living room. end memory]
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pro-anomalocaris · 5 months ago
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I guess I'm a bad POC for wanting one single place online where I'm not being bludgeoned over the head with how many people want me dead? @centipedepaws I guess I'm bad for wanting a single place somewhere online where I don't have to be reminded that racism exists? It's "privileged" (or "priviledged", in your parlance) to ever want to hop into a fandom discord server and just talk about fandom shit?
Will I forget the time someone tried to murder me in a literal hate crime if a server exists where the topic is Pokemon Unite and we talk about Pokemon Unite?
Will I forget all of the shit I face as a trans person, a Central Asian person, a pansexual person, and a Jewish person with Muslim family instantly if I go into an Avatar: the Last Airbender server and talk about Avatar?
It's not a service that benefits anyone for you to keep kicking in the door and yelling, "REMEMBER HOW FUCKED THINGS ARE???" when people are trying to have fun. I'm not privileged and being helped by you, oh wonderful savior. I'm human, I'm tired, and I'm here to discuss the thing the server is about, only for you to go, "WHAT ABOUT RACISM?!" at me.
I got reprimanded and removed from a class at Montana State University for insisting that non-black POC faced social stratification in the US. I am not your white boogeyman cackling as I yell out, "fuck POC!"
In reality, never allowing people to have a moment where they can be unguarded and just enjoy life contributes to stress, which contributes to cortisol production, which is linked to cardiac issues. This is why POC suffer heart attacks and strokes at higher rates than white people.
It is privileged to tell everyone, "fuck you, you don't get to set boundaries, and you're a bad POC if you don't want to talk about oppression all the time in every single space online."
Out of curiosity: why is it that every single space online must discuss atrocities? Why is it that, say, disabled people who can't leave the house, or people who live in unsafe neighborhoods, can't go online and talk about Digimon without you talking about racism? Why do they not have the right - oh, pardon me, the "privilege" - of having a reprieve unless they log off? What about people with abusive families who can't go play with a pet or take a walk? One of my foster brothers used to be locked in his room for whole weekends with nothing but water to drink - would it be "privileged" of him as a black boy to want to talk about Digimon with Digimon fans and not talk about racism? Is that "bad" of him? Is he a "bad" black person?
Do you have a reason beyond "well, I like shoving the atrocities of the world in people's faces, and I don't think they should be able to set a boundary in even one place online"?
I found out about George Floyd's murder in a Digimon discord server because the video was posted without any content warning. It gave me a flashback to nearly being murdered myself. It gave me a flashback to when a police officer made my dad get down on the ground and pointed a gun at him because he couldn't believe that my dad was my dad due to our different skintones and threatened to kill him because he thought he'd kidnapped me. It reactivated my PTSD and treated the murder of a human being like a clip from a horror movie to pass around instead of the ending of a human life at the hands of a vile murderer. I guess you'd call it a good thing, since it violated everyone's boundaries, but sincerely: what did this accomplish?
What exactly was gained from showing the murder of a black man to a server full of minors who wanted to discuss Digimon Cyber Sleuth? Was it supposed to teach them murder is wrong? Was it supposed to teach them that racism is bad?
I already knew those things. Everyone there already knew those things. Black kids in that server knew this already. They had been having a fun time talking about ToyAgumon and someone like you went, "here's a video of someone who could be you/your dad/your friends being murdered!"
For the non-Digimon fans in need of a reference, this was the discussion topic prior:
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Shoving videos of murder in front of children may make you feel good but maybe that's fucked up, dude, and not a sign it's morally right.
TL;DR You're allowed to want a moment's peace and a reprieve from stress. You are a person. Every human being has the right to be happy and live a good life, even POC, regardless of what this person says, and you are not a bad POC for wanting a break.
(P.S. Also, if you try to set a boundary and someone immediately says you cannot, not just that they disagree but that you are not "entitled" to a boundary, that's a red flag for an abuser. Abusers do not believe you have the right to say no to things. Avoid the fuck out of anyone who pulls this.)
I am actually begging some people to just let some spaces exist untouched by real-world issues and horrors.
Like I've lost count of the amount of times peaceful game or fandom servers have been ruined by people stampeding in with political rants, bitching about world issues, demanding internal activism, demanding vent channels so they can whine about their shitty parents, ect.
Like. Respectfully. Not every single space has to be inclusive of and welcoming of outside topics. The real world sucks. We don't needed to be reminded of that absolutely everywhere.
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neos127 · 4 months ago
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enhypen x fem!reader | brought the heat back
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genre. toxic enha! established relationship + hcs cw. the boys are pretty toxic & manipulative notes. obv this isn’t how i believe they act irl! i was just inspired by bthb lyrics
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heeseung . . . ‘why is he looking at you like that’, heeseung thought as the two of you were sitting in a cafe. to say he was a jealous person was an understatement— heeseung was very possessive. you were his and his only, why couldn’t people understand that.
“hee, calm down.” you mumbled, noticing the way he gripped the small coffee cup, the drink spilling onto his hand. heeseung sighed, letting you clean him up. as soon as you discarded the coffee covered wet wipe, heeseung immediately pulled you to his side, making you sit against him in the booth.
“heeseung…” you warned the boy, feeling his lips trace your neck. the man who had been looking at you prior looked away in embarrassment. you never really favored pda, but your possessive boyfriend certainly did.
“tell me that you’re mine. mine only.” he muttered in between kisses, causing you to blush furiously. you let out a nervous giggle before turning your head to meet heeseung’s eyes.
“i’m yours, always.”
jay . . . you were positive that jay’s arms hadn’t left your waist since you arrived at the party. whenever you two stood in a group, jay would stand behind you with his arms wrapped around your waist and his chin on your shoulder/head. any time a guy even glance at you, his grip would tighten. you had to stop jay from getting into a fight when a guy had approached you, trying to get you into one of the spare rooms.
jay had thrown his beer into the guy’s face, about to swing at his face before you pulled him away.
“jay…i was okay. i can handle myself.” you sighed as the two of you sat on the front lawn, waiting for his best friend to pick you both up.
“i know but, you’re my girl. they don’t even deserve to have the pleasure of looking at you.” jay muttered, his jaw clenching. you let out a curt laugh before reaching over and messing with his hair.
“and i wouldn’t want it any other way.” you replied, leaning over to kiss him.
jake . . . your boyfriend was acting like a child, and you weren’t too pleased about it.
“get off the phone.” he murmured against your ear before continuing his assault on your neck. you were positive that jake had left a couple hickeys on your skin already. he had been sucking on your neck and running his tongue over the marks constantly since you started your project. you were working on it with a male classmate and jake didn’t like that.
jake’s kisses only increased the more you ignored him, his hands slowly sliding under your shirt and resting under your bra. you let out a soft moan, freezing when you realized that you were still on call.
“y/n, you okay?” your project partner, heeseung spoke up. before you could even get a word in, jake spoke up for you.
“she’s busy.” jake sneered before pressing the red ‘end call’ button on your phone. you turned to face the man, about to sold him but jake didn’t care. he interrupted you with a kiss, already lifting you out of your seat and towards your bed.
“it’s my turn to have your attention.”
sunghoon . . . you had never seen sunghoon so angry before, it was honestly worrying. you knew that your boyfriend was the jealous type, and his emotions were only heightened whenever he had a game. a member on the opposing team made a score, winking and making some crude remarks towards you. sunghoon already hated him, especially since he always seemed to hit on you.
your boyfriend was already pissed off so he absolutely lost it, throwing his helmet on the ice and roughly spitting out his mouth guard before slamming the guy against the wall of the rink. you didn’t pick up much of what sunghoon said, only a couple of curses here and there. the guy pushed sunghoon off which resulted in him swinging at his face. you gasped and stood up, watching as sunghoon was pulled away by his teammates.
he ended up receiving a red card and was chewed out by his coach before he stomped to the locker room. you followed after him, wanting to comfort your boyfriend who was obviously fired up.
“sunghoon! what the hell was that?” you called after him, nearly getting hit by the door on your way into the locker room.
“that dickwad is a piece of shit. i can’t stand him. especially when he thinks that he can just look at you without me wanting to pull his teeth out.” sunghoon snarled, his voice still raised as he paced around.
you frowned, putting a hand on his chest to try to calm him down. he stopped, taking a deep breath before placing his hand over yours and leaning against the lockers.
“you’re mine only. i can’t let other guys talk about you like that.” sunghoon said, leaning over to rest his forehead against yours. you smiled, finding his possessiveness to be a bit attractive. even though it got him benched for the next few games.
“don’t worry, i don’t accept attention from any other guy but you.” you whispered, running your thumb on his bottom lip.
sunoo . . . “who was that guy you spoke to earlier.” sunoo asked, cornering you in the kitchen one night. you jumped a bit at his presence, not expecting your boyfriend to still be up as you grabbed a glass of water.
“just a friend.” you replied, shrugging as if it was no big deal. to sunoo it was a big deal. he couldn’t stand the attention you would get from men, it made him extremely envious when you decided to be nice and engage.
“why were you smiling at him like that?” sunoo asked, his tone extremely calm but his gaze was hard and set on you.
“sunoo, he didn’t mean anything to me.” you replied, placing the glass down and walking over to sunoo. you rested your hands on either side of his face, giving him a reassuring smile. you knew how jealous your boyfriend could get, especially when it came to guys giving you their attention. if a guy happened to look at you for a second too long, sunoo felt like snapping their neck.
“he better not.” he mumbled before pulling you into a heated kiss.
jungwon . . . was it unfair of jungwon to rip you away from a lunch with your friend? possibly. but the friend was a guy, a guy who wasn’t your loving boyfriend. he couldn’t have your attention stolen by sim jaeyun when he was simply sitting at home bored out of his mind. so, jungwon called you up, pretending to sound sick so you would come to his apartment. he knew that he was your weakness, you would do anything for your precious jungwon.
so you excused yourself from lunch and raced to jungwon’s apartment, worried about your boyfriend. jungwon laid on his bed, putting a frown on his face as he explained that his ‘stomach ache’ was debilitating. you cooed at the boy, softly running your hands through his hair.
jungwon sighed, fighting back a small smirk. he finally had you to himself again…he was in heaven.
riki . . . the boy was fidgeting, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as he watched a store clerk clearly flirt with you. he had been watching the guy ever since you two walked into the store, the punk had been waiting for a chance to get you alone.
“i was wondering if i could get your number?” the guy asked, pulling his phone out. you froze, feeling awkward already. you were about to tell him that you had a boyfriend before you felt a presence behind you.
riki towered over you, his height seeming to intimidate the store clerk in front of you. he wrapped his arms around your waist possessively, resting his head on top of yours.
“she’s taken.” riki said curtly, his eyes darkening as he stared down the guy in front of you. he nodded, quickly walking away without another word.
“riki…” you giggled, turning around to face your boyfriend who looked extremely pissed. riki had always been a jealous boyfriend and it was amusing to see how he subtly staked his claim over you.
“these idiots don’t deserve an ounce of your attention.” he grumbled, keeping an arm around your waist as he pulled you out of the store. you let out a laugh, shaking your head.
“riki, where are we going? i want my snacks.”
“a different store without that asshole.”
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not-krys · 2 years ago
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Nurture (Houki, Ophelia, Abby)
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I had originally thought of using the prompt 'Family' since I don't have a specific mother prompt on my list (in the US, Mother's Day is in May), but I do have a 'Father' prompt that I plan on using in June (as that's when Father's Day is for the US). The reason I'm not using Family here is because that and Father were getting too similar to each other, writing-wise. So, I decided to try and RNG a different prompt.
Ironically, RNG gave me the prompt 'nurture', which lends itself well to mother-themed prompts.
Regular warning's apply: raw unedited writing that suddenly cuts off or wanders randomly, oc lore building, pregnancy, fluff, and some more serious things in Ophelia's entry like emotional manipulation of a child. Features IkeSen's Mitsunari being adorable and IkeVamp's Theo being a little jealous over his brother's relationships. Arthur's there too.
Check out Maddie's version here featuring IkeRev's Harr!
My Masterlist
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Houki
"It… should be …there. I think." Houki looked up at the tall shelf, her quarry a leather-bound book on one of the upper tiers. She tilted her head, mentally judging the distance from her feet on the floor to her desired book, teasing her at the height above her head.
A natural solution to her problem would be to use the nearby stool, logical, something anyone would conclude to do in her situation.
But, she couldn't use the stool to reach for her book. Five months ago, she would have done that without thinking and no one would have batted an eye. Now, however…
She laid a hand on her stomach, staring longingly at her prized book. Even with her layers of kimono and her larger form, there was still the hint of her growing middle that had nothing to do with Lord Masamune's good food and everything to do with those long nights spent in Mitsunari's strong arms. If her mother saw her now, the fit she would throw…
Another thought could be to go and find someone to get the book down for her. Her beloved Mitsunari would've loved to help, as would Lord Hideyoshi or Ranmaru without complaint. Lords Masamune and Mitsuhide would tease her horribly, and Lord Ieyasu would just refuse and walk away. And who asks the lord of the castle to get down a book for them? Certainly not her.
However, Mitsunari and Lord Hideyoshi were away on a mission so she couldn't ask them. She also didn't hear any passing footsteps outside, no servants or maids she could ask about Ranmaru's whereabouts, or for their help in getting the book down.
Unless she was willing to endure the merciless teasing of Lord Mitsuhide or Lord Masamune, she was alone in her endeavor.
She looked at the high shelf once again, putting her hands on her hips.
Well, nothing was ever accomplished without trying, after all, she thought to herself and walked close to the shelf, enough that she was nose to wood to it. She rose to the tips of her toes, using one hand as leverage and balance on the shelf, the other reaching skyward, her fingers just brushing the smooth, cool leather of her desired. Her belly pressed into a few spines and she could hear the crinkling of paper as it was pressed, but still she continued straining her arm for the book, feeling a tenderness developing in her shoulder and neck.
"Just… a little… further!"
She heard a few books hit the floor, but she continued reaching, slipping her fingers under the spine. She pulled herself inches taller by holding onto the shelf frame, lifting her leg behind her as if it would help her.
She blessed the founder of gravity as the book leaned precariously, tilted towards her. Houki smiled, released her grip on the shelf and held her arms out to catch the falling book.
In blessing gravity, however, she forgot to balance herself and she was falling backwards, also a victim of gravity like her book.
"Ah!" she squeaked, stumbling with her book in her arms.
"Careful!" a familiar voice called out, her body soon finding something solid. Not floor solid, but person solid, and strong arms circling her.
When Houki looked up, pushing her glasses up on her nose, she saw a familiar set of violet eyes and gray hair framing them.
"Mitsunari! You're back?"
"Only moments ago." Mitsunari smiled, helping her stand back on her feet. "The campaign was a complete success, so Lord Hideyoshi and I returned early. He's giving the report to Lord Nobunaga now."
"Shouldn't… you also be giving your report to Lord Nobunaga?"
"I couldn't wait to see you, so I asked Lord Hideyoshi if I could give mine later."
He looked at the book in her arms.
"A book of children stories?"
Houki felt her cheeks warming.
"It's… caught my eye for a while, ever since I noticed it a few days prior." She held the book closer to her chest. "It seemed a strange thing to be kept in the archives when it's mostly just inventory, battle histories, and medical texts here, so it made me curious."
"Lord Nobunaga does acquire some strange treasures every now and then." He reached for Houki's hand, locking pinkies with her as he pulled her closer, "perhaps it was misplaced and ended up here?"
"It's possible." Houki nodded, walking alongside Mitsunari, the other slowing his steps for Houki, as was his practice for some time now. "…but I would like read through it first before asking where it's supposed to be returned to."
Mitsunari smiled.
"A little naughty of you, Houki."
Her cheeks warmed again.
"I prefer to call it curiosity."
Mitsunari tightened his pinky on hers affectionately.
"I won't tell if you won't."
"Now whose being the naughty one?"
The two walked pinky in pinky until they reached his room, surrounded by the familiar piles of books and the singular desk by the wall. Mitsunari sat against the opposite wall, pulling Houki into his lap, his chin resting on her shoulder. Houki giggled.
"I'm out of practice when reading aloud, just so you know."
"I love the sound of your voice," Mitsunari replied, his hand cupping her belly, "and I'm sure they will as well."
Houki giggled again, opening the book to the first page.
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Ophelia
"My dearest Ophelia! Guess what!"
A young girl, barely more than eleven with too big shoes on her feet and her dress more patch than actual garment, stood in a dark hallway, her dark carnelian eyes already turning hollow at the sound of the familiar voice. It was her mother's voice, cheerful and excited.
The woman, smelling of strong perfume and possibly the smallest hint of alcohol--Ophelia couldn't tell because of the overpowering scent of patchouli-- put one hand on her tiny shoulder while the other patted her stomach with glee. Ophelia froze.
"You're gonna be a big sister! Again!" Her mother laughed like a braying donkey, "I just confirmed it this morning! It's gonna be a boy this time, I'm sure of it!"
"That's what you said about Rosalind. And Portia. And about Bianca and Beatrice."
"And I love all of you, and Cordelia too, very, very much!" She said, "but we still need a boy, a boy, Ophelia! We just have to hope and wish for it!"
"What if it's another girl, mother? What will you do then?"
"Well… then me and your papa are gonna have to try again!"
The little girl, far wiser for her age than she should be, sighed.
"You have six daughters now," said Ophelia, "And the possibility of a seventh coming in six months time."
"No, no, you're going to have a handsome little brother and he's going to protect all of us, forever and always!"
"And if it is another girl, Mother, you know what that's going to mean."
"No!" She hugged the girl tight to her chest, her body racked with sudden sobs, "I'm not sending my little girls off to be married! Away from me! After all the love and nurturing I did, they can't be taken from me!"
Ophelia grit her teeth and held her tongue, knowing it would only upset her mother further. Instead, she loosely wrapped her arms around her crying mother, giving her a few pats on her back. The woman sniffed loudly.
"Thank you, dear," she said, clearing her throat, "you've always been such a good girl. I'm so proud of you, Ophelia."
"Yes, Mother, I know, I know."
"I can always count on you, my number one girl," she kissed Ophelia's forehead, taking her little hand to put on her belly, "you'll look after your little brother too and take such good care of him. I just know it."
Ophelia curled her fingers, reluctant to touch her mother, but her mother still insisted, forcefully spreading her tiny digits so her palm rested open against her stomach. It was still relatively flat, warm and squishy to the touch, but Ophelia still bit her lip to keep calm, knowing this would be a more common occurrence as the months wore on, the same as her mother had done when she had her younger sisters in her belly.
She took in a shaking breath.
"I'll look after him, Mother. Just like I have Cordelia. And Rosalind. And Portia. And Beatrice and Bianca."
"Good girl, Ophelia." She patted Ophelia's hand, still held against her belly, "Good girl."
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Abby
Despite his initial teasing, Theo couldn't help but stare as Abby's blonde head bobbed back and forth as she took in every painting in the small atelier he'd managed to snag for a local gallery featuring some of his artist friends. She looked at everything with open, curious eyes, as if she would miss something if she so much as breathed wrong or blinked. She was like that around Vincent when he was painting or if she caught a rare moment of Leonardo sketching. It went beyond watching a famous artist working, he felt, she seemed fascinated by watching them work, as if their famous statuses didn't matter to her, she just enjoyed watching them work.
His suspicions were confirmed one day where he'd caught her doodling on a scrap piece of paper while she was working. It was a pale imitation of one of his brother's painting (no one could match up to him, after all), but he saw something in there that he often saw in promising young artists, that with enough nurturing and care it could develop into something beautiful.
It was mostly the reason he invited her to help set up in the atelier. Smaller reasons including needing an extra hand and she had a free afternoon, but the quivering that she usually did, the nervousness she had ever since she appeared at Comte's mansion, it was practically gone when she helped set up the gallery. A woman that normally shook in her shoes if he so much as glanced her way, had such confidence and grace when she was surrounded by beauty and artistic innovation, he wondered if he imagined the scared, teary-eyed little puppy he usually saw at home.
Vincent's insistence on inviting her also helped sway him. Maybe he saw something in her before he did, but he wouldn't have refused Vincent regardless.
What bothered him, however, was seeing peeks of Vincent taking her hand as they stood in front of painting after painting, the way her tiny hand curled in his as they discussed different aspects of the works they looked at. How his fingers formed protectively around hers. How her usual blush of nervousness seemed… different, for some reason. Theo frowned, his eyebrows turning down.
Before long, however, a gloved hand slapped him between his shoulders before circling them, the smell of cologne (and maybe a hint of a little too much wine) assaulting his nose. He turned to see the familiar blue eyes of one particularly annoying author he would gladly strangle if he didn't remove his arm.
"They're cute, aren't they?" Arthur said with a grin. "Holding hands like that. Who knew the bird had it in her."
"It's an art show, klootzak." Theo said, "be more respectful."
"I am, I am!" Arthur laughed, "This show is great, I think."
"The art or watching my broer being seduced?"
Arthur laughed harder. He definitely had been hitting the wine a little hard that evening.
"Watching you watching your brother and the little dove at his side is the better show, I think."
Theo scowled as Vincent pointed at a particularly colorful painting, Abby's eyes lighting up as she examined the details. Arthur patted Theo's chest, much to his annoyance.
"They're just having a good time looking at art. No need to get jealous over two art lovers sharing a passion."
"There's more than sharing a passion for art going on between them."
"Aye, anyone with working eyes can see that."
Theo growled.
"Why are you so worked up for, anyway? Not like they're snogging each other up the walls over there."
Theo glared.
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writinglittlebeasts · 2 years ago
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'Remember that time I died for thirty seconds?' Those words-- hell, the simple implication of those words in a pointed silence --got Raleigh anything. 'Remember that time your husband decided he didn't want a son who lived to saddle him with hospital bills? Remember when you abandoned me to mourn your marriage when half of my bones were broken and I couldn't fend for myself?' Raleigh shot her a look when he mentioned staying the night at Ruby Morrison's house or taking a ride out to Portland for the weekend. Once for an unfortunate In Mary's Name concert where the designated driver had slipped Raleigh his drink tickets and left him to stumble around the venue utterly pissed until he found himself on the sidewalk outside with his head crushed between his knees and a street hotdog cooling in a rank puddle on the concrete between his shoes.
When he'd caught her at the refrigerator in the dead of night and said 'I'm bringing a boy home,' she could see the old rejoinder before it ever reached his lips. She was so good about that one that he later wondered if he'd even needed to think it-- 'you need to be okay with that because you owe me'. His mother had pulled him close to her body and told him that she trusted him to make good decisions. He couldn't really do anything but cry into her shoulder, after that.
Werewolves, though? The specter of child neglect past may not be enough to ease that particular rock of the boat.
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sapphireis · 4 months ago
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Dark/Yan Aemond HCs
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ೃ⁀➷ TW/CW: DARK CONTENT, 18+ (MINORS/AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DON’T INTERACT), Bad English, Toxic Relationship, Implied AFAB Reader (talk about pregnancy and stuff in a part, but for the rest pretty GN), Jealousy, Manipulation, Breeding Kink a bit, OOC?, let me know if I need to add more TW/Tags ♡ My blog contains dark content, be careful when interacting/following! ➳ Characters: Aemond Targaryen
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⤠ I'd do anything for you, Mrs. Highness (Aemond) ⤟ Masterlist (soon!) ⤠ None ⤟
hello hotd fandom... pls be nice to me since this is my first time posting smth about this fandom hndhhd and I'm also very insecure about my writing rn, anyway... i wrote this mostly for myself so I'm sorry LMAO
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He's so possessive and protective of you. To the point where you can't go anywhere without guards who are loyal to him, due to his paranoia. Aemond would prefer to be your guard all the time, but alas he is unfortunately a very busy man so he has to trust the guards
When you are forced to do parties or appear in public Aemond is always around you or watching you, his eye never really leaves your figure. He always has his hands over you either on your lower back, guiding you where he wants, or on your waist. To remind you who you belong to.
Heleana and Alicent are the only one who he lets be around you when he is gone to keep you company, his brother Aegon? AH. No. Maybe Daeron, but Aegon absolutely not. Why would you want to spend time with a drunken fool?
In truth he is insanely jealous about everything and everyone, including his own family. He trusts his sister and mother to not pry too much into your relationship, and in fact his mother is more of an enabler for him. She is just so glad her son finally found someone he loves and cares about, so that he isn't alone anymore. How could she deny him such happiness?
Will try to get the two of you married instant. As soon as he saw you Aemond knew he had to marry you, it doesn't matter if you are highborn or not to him. Much to his mother and grandsire's displeasure of course
Once you are married of course he's gonna make you pregnant if possible. You wouldn't try to get away from him with a child on its way no? When he has endless ways of helping you with a babe, both during the pregnancy, the birth, and the years to come. Why have it the hard way when you can live a life of luxury?
Talking about a life of luxury, Aemond will give you anything you might need and more to keep you compliant. However, some things are not negotiable like for example what you wear: its either green or sapphire blue, no other clothes are tolerated for him. If you want to be more transgressive you can wear something outside of that, though the consequences...
He's so manipulative and wouldn't care to bring the situation in his favour, and would absolutely use your own emotion against you. "If you are hurt imagine how I feel" and stuff like that is often said when you two are fighting often over nothing, if not directly about Aemond's way of treating you.
You think it's unfair, Aemond thinks you don't understand how he feels. There is a war coming and he won't always be there protecting you since he will be on the battlefield. Its only fair that he fears for your safety, no? What kind of husband would he be otherwise?
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This work belongs to @/sapphireis, do not repost, translate, copy, rewrite or share on tiktok without my permission. Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged♡
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dotster001 · 1 year ago
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When You Escape Him; Savannaclaw
Summary: Yandere Savannaclaw boys x gn!reader. He adopts a child that looks like the two of you. You run to give you both a chance at life. You never expected him to find you.
CW: yandere, dark content, you don't make it far in two out of three of these, murder (if you think about it for two seconds), no wait there's also actual murder, abuse of power, laugh with me, Ruggie 's cracked, emotional manipulation,
Heartslaybul Octavinelle Scarabia Pomefiore Ignihyde Diasomnia Non NRC Staff
Three years into your relationship, he had come home and placed a baby in your arms.
"They were left in a box, all alone. And, well, he looks like if the two of us had a child," he sheepishly stared at the ground. "I just, I just figured it must be a gift from the seven."
You knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to tie himself to you through this boy. He looked just like him, and you were disgusted and scared.
Until he opened his eyes for the first time, and you found yourself staring into your own.
And you knew. You had to give this child the opportunity for a better life. A life without him.
In the end, your son did the opposite of what he had intended. And the first moment you could, the two of you had escaped.
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Every day that took you farther away from the Sunset Savannah was a blessing.  Getting out of the palace had been a miracle. Not alerting a single guard to your exit was a marvel.
Your time in Twisted Wonderland had taught you one thing. You were running out of miracles.
But you only needed one more. Tomorrow, you would leave the hotel with your son before the sun rose. You would slip into the trunk of a car that you'd traded the last of your jewels chains for. The driver would take you over the border, and then you could slip away where the second prince couldn't touch for fear of war.
You were too nervous to sleep. You held your son in your arms, and paced, whispering about the life you could have once you were free from Leona. The child had only been your son for three weeks, but you were going to free you both. Give you both a loving home.
You should sleep. You couldn't guarantee the next time you'd have a bed. And your eyes were so heavy, your mind foggy, but the anxiety pulsing through your veins made you nauseous whenever you tried to lay down.
Your vision was starting to get as foggy as your mind. The walls seemed to be wavering. Perhaps you should sit down.
The first grain of sand that hit you, you snapped completely awake. The walls weren't wavering; they were shimmering and collapsing.
You were lucky you were on the first floor. As fast as you could, you grabbed one of the tshirts you had stolen from Leona, and covered your son's head, pressed him close to your chest, then ran straight into the shimmering sand….
….and straight into a solid mass.
"Gotcha."
You felt a hand grab you by the hair as you heard the now completely sand hotel collapse behind you. You were yanked to the side of the hard mass, as he shouted.
"Tell my brother that I have them. Prepare for cleanup."
"Yes, your highness!" The nervous soldier standing beside Leona stuttered. Now that you weren't pressed straight into Leona, you saw he was surrounded by an entire troupe of soldiers. You watched the one he'd addressed rush off to the crowd on the other side of the pile of sand. You didn't recognize that one. He must have been promoted once the old one was fired.
If Leona didn't kill them, that is.
As you stared at the other crowd of soldiers, you recognized Farena's regal silhouette, feeling nauseous as he nodded at Leona across the way, issuing orders to soldiers who moved to get rid of all evidence of the former hotel.
Leona brought your attention back to him, taking the baby from your arms, and pulling his shirt off the little one's head. He babbled happily, and Leona infinitesimally softened. A face that was usually reserved for you.
"I can't believe you made me do all this work," he muttered, his tone becoming hard again. "You're gonna have to try real hard to make it up to me."
"Why is Farena here?" You whispered. You didn't think poorly of Farena. In fact, a part of you believed that, if you had had the chance, he would have helped you. But here he was, cleaning up Leona's dirty work.
Leona growled, and you snapped your mouth shut.
"The kingdom likes me better when you're with me. Of course he'd make sure I wouldn't lose you."
It was patronizing, like he was explaining something simple to a small child. A child he hated. 
But Leona didn't hate you. Maybe it would be better if he did.
He snatched your wrist, and began walking the three of you towards a car you hadn't noticed before. He opened the car door, and shoved you inside, getting in behind you. Then he handed you your son.
You hesitated to take him, and he grinned.
"I'd hold him now. It's going to be an awfully long time before you can even look at him again."
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You knew Ruggie couldn't afford to come find you. Especially when you were hiding in the Queendom of Roses.
So you'd quietly raised your son there. You'd reunited with Ace, and rekindled the friendship you'd lost when Ruggie started to hoard you. You'd fallen in love. Gotten married. He'd adopted your son as his own.
You came home from work one day, and found him lying motionless at the bottom of the stairs.
"Ace!" You screamed, rolling him over and feeling for a pulse. Nothing. You looked for any marks, any sign of an intruder, but nothing. 
Your son. Where was he? He should be at home, he had a project that was due tomorrow. Where was he? 
You stood up and began to run up the stairs, but your body froze, before slowly turning around. And there he was.
"Leona already took our son home, shi hi hi."
Leona. You were so stupid. Of course he'd go to Leona. If anything, the fact it took so long to find you was a shock.
He shoved Ace's body with his foot, your foot moving in time to his, still being trapped in his spell. You used all your muscles to stay upright, nearly falling down the stairs with your lack of balance.
"I always hated him. Loud. Stupid. Couldn't mind his own business," he hummed, looking back up at you. "Did you leave me for him, or did he come later? Doesn't matter. Either way, you've really hurt my feelings."
He paused, his brow furrowing, actually looking angry for the first time. "We're going home, Y/N."
He turned and walked out the door, you following him, until he reached a black car. He turned, placed cuffs on you, then released you from the spell, pulling you into the car.
"I know you missed me, babe," he hummed, moving so he was sitting right next to you, resting his head on your shoulder. "And I would have come sooner, but Leona's an ass. Made me promise to calm down first so that I didn't accidentally hurt you or the boy."
He groaned. "He was probably right. I never thought I'd find a lover, or be a dad, and then both things were gone in a day. He didn't have to wait so long though. I calmed down in the first year."
You thought back to Ace's body at the bottom of the stairs. If that was calm….
"Where's my son?"
He laughed.
"He doesn't get to be your son. Not until you can be my partner again."
"That's not fair!"
"Life's not fair, baby! My entire life has been an unfair shit show. So now it's time to do something for me! It's my turn to get something I want."
His smile came back to his face, and he giggled. The years must not have been kind to his mind.
"Now, if you can prove that you can be a good little spouse, then I'll let you prove you can be a good parent. You also owe Leona. It's thanks to him I could come get you. How are you at secretary work?"
He continued to chat about all the things you had to do to make it up to him and Leona. You don't know when, but at some point silent tears started rolling down your face. 
And Ruggie laughed.
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It wasn't until the day he'd brought home your son that you'd even realized what kind of a life you lived now. He never hurt you, physically. But the terror of the outside world he'd instilled in you…
And his family hadn't helped. They'd gifted jack the second floor of their home so that you could start your family, but still remain close to “the pack”. 
His parents stayed with you everyday, while he went out to work with his brothers and sisters. They'd tell you all the stories of how happy they were, how wolf beast men mated for life, how you would also be so so so happy. 
You would always just smile and nod. Even if you thought you were happy, you couldn't hold back the uneasy feeling every time they spoke of "forever".
And as you held your son, and realized you hadn't left the house in three years, you had lost all your connections, and you had a crippling fear fill your stomach whenever Jack wasn't home. And with that realization, came the secondary realization that you'd only begun to live this way, when you moved in with Jack after graduation.
It was the one day you knew everyone, including his parents, would be gone.
So why was it that you were now hiding in an alley, praying that your son wouldn't wake up, and alert a pack of hunting wolves to your presence? You were grateful they weren't real wolves, or they would have smelled you by now. As it was, Jack always mentioned you had such a unique scent that he could find you anywhere. You hoped that was just something he liked to say.
You hadn't seen any of them pass your alley in a while, so you took a shuddering breath, and peaked out into the street. 
It was quiet. But they were nearby. You weighed your options. If you ran, you might get to a safe house, or find a cab, before they could catch you. But they'd definitely hear your steps, and Jack was an incredible runner.
Or you could walk quietly, and hide in alleys here and there. But that would take time. Time where they could find you. Time where a friend of the family could spot you, and call someone.
If you could get somewhere with a pay phone, you could call Vil and explain the situation. You were told he grew up in the area. But if he sided with Jack, he'd lead you on the wrong path, or worse, set his fans to detain you while you waited for Jack to get there.
If you knew Ace's phone number, you knew he'd get you out of there. Yes, you'd get an I told you so speech, but he wouldn't think twice about saving you.
Too bad Jack took your phone and contact book for “your health”.
You heard a soft sigh from the boy in your arms, and looked down in momentary fear. Just sighing. Not awake. Good.
You looked back up, mentally trying to figure out where a phone was, and were met with a pair of glowing gold eyes, staring from across the street.
You ran.
You never really stood a chance, even if you could anywhere compare to Jack's unparalleled abilities, holding a child in your arms made it impossible to win.
You felt his arms wrap around your body and hold you tight.
“It's okay, I've got you. You're safe now.”
You must have really scared him. He didn't usually say so many words at a time.
You let out a sob, and he gently rocked you side to side for a moment, whispering how it was okay, you were safe, he's sorry he wasn't there to protect you.
At some point, he must have gotten his dad's attention, because Mr. Howl was gently prying your son from your arms, so that Jack could scoop you up and carry you home.
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silkscream · 8 months ago
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pure smile snake venom
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ੈ✩ suguru geto x reader
ੈ✩ cw: smut (minors dni, ageless + blank blogs will be blocked), unprotected sex, dom!suguru, emotional manipulation, fingering, dubcon, blood, yandere behavior, edging, multiple orgasms, choking, loss of virginity, religious imagery
ੈ✩ wc: 5.1k
ੈ✩ a/n: oooo i am soo normal about cult leader suguru. art by @/wonowono__3 on twitter
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He finds you unconscious. 
He feels you before he sees you – your cursed energy permeates the air with dread. He can feel it in his throat, as if the hand of his past self materialized to strangle him, reminding him of desperation. It wasn’t a feeling he was used to, not anymore.
It also felt like death. 
When he finds you, your body would have easily been looked over, small as you were compared to the vastness of the forest around you. Insignificant, left to rot. 
When he’d looked at your face, there was recognition in his chest despite not seeing you before. He hadn’t been drawn to anyone in a while. He barely had anyone that wasn’t at arm's length to him, even his closest devouts, yet something about the delicateness of your face enticed him. A predator finding lost prey.
He finds it mildly sacrilegious to touch you when you’re in this state, but your shirt was saturated with so much blood that it took him a bit to realize that the color of the fabric was supposed to be white and not merlot-red. He lifts your shirt, grimacing at its dampness, and finds a wound that looks fatal. 
He looks at it and feels the residuals of a nasty curse. By the time he tracks it down, he tortures it with all of the energy inside of him. 
__
You wake up on a futon you don’t recognize. You don’t remember a thing. 
You wince as you attempt to rise, clutching your side. You’re topless, clothed only by gauze covering your chest and ribs. 
You exhale, closing your eyes. In the darkness behind your eyelids, you see a face with a vacant smile. You are met with that very smile when you open your eyes again.
“Welcome back.”
You blink. He must be the stranger that saved you from — well, what did he save you from? You were used to spirits, took years to adjust to that fact, and have even killed a few yourself. But when you feel the pain in your side, nothing comes to mind.
“You… saved me?”
“I suppose so. It was pure luck that I happened to stumble upon you.”
“Where — where am I?”
He tells you it’s his temple, then he tells you his name. When he asks for yours, you’re reluctant. Eventually, you tell him. If he was luring you into his trap, you suppose you had fallen into it against your will by pure chance. It was probably better than bleeding out in the middle of nowhere.
“Do you have anyone who will miss you?” 
You don’t say anything. You think of the dingy studio apartment you’ve been subletting for a few months. You try to conjure up a narrative of belonging in your head that would give you any reason for you to leave. Nothing comes.
You shake your head.
__
Geto Suguru is the first person to tell you that you’re magic.
You knew that, in some way, ever since you were a child. Your intuition made you a strange child, always slightly cryptic with a sense of maturity that made you seem like a vessel for a sad ghost. Your visions would only get stronger – small bursts of light whiplashing through your mind into images, rapid like a supercut. The things you saw would come true. 
This is what makes you a good weapon. Ironically, you had always thought of yourself as weak. 
He was captivating the way a cult leader should be, and you had fallen under his spell. It was his robes and the regal way he carried himself, maybe. You don’t think he’s bad — he’s made you important, and you’ve never felt wanted before. You were a recluse before Suguru found you. Barely the shape of anything, so he found it appropriate to mold you into something to call his.
Suguru doesn’t tell you much. You know that he probably lies to you.
He holds too much power for you to question it. His cursed technique is daunting and his grace is enviable, but he’s mostly kind. You help him when he finds curses, usually the more powerful ones that could threaten him. Able to see into the near future, you can sense their next move each time. It makes it easy to subdue them to Suguru’s advantage.
You also find that he is regarded as something of a saint to non-sorcerers. Something twists in your gut when you watch his exorcisms, seeing the immediate relief in the faces of his followers. They look at him with so much adoration that it makes you self-conscious that you share the same disposition.
He tells you you’re his favorite and the feeling dissipates.
You like how ritualistic living in the temple is. Breakfast at the same time each day. Tea in the garden. Rolling in the gross with bruised knuckles.
You take a liking to his girls. They remind you of yourself, but they lack the meekness you had as a teenager. The twins adore you almost as much as they adore Suguru. They are endlessly fickle, as most teenage girls are, but their devotion is worn candidly in the way they carry themselves. You wonder how they can be so obedient, but you realize that they have known nothing else. 
It’s a quiet luxury. You like to pretend that you’re some sort of priestess, sometimes. You had never been as reverent as your mother, but you think that there is peace in serving a God.  If not Suguru, then some higher power must’ve granted you another chance at life, even if your new life meant mundane piety. 
You liked routine – it fit you. You did your part in the temple and Suguru would reward you with gentle praises. You were only one of few sorcerers in his current entourage, so you felt special. 
Despite this, something felt messing. You often wish Suguru could cast out the malaise inside of you, but you’ve carried it in the pit of yourself for as long as you could remember. Even in your pious bliss, you start wondering if the curse that nearly killed you left a part of itself within you. Each day is the same until you wear thin.
When the string finally breaks, you find him with blood on his hands in the temple’s omoya.
It’s not the blood of a curse, either. It’s dark crimson, such as the same blood that is inside of you, and on the tatami mat lies the lifeless body of a servant. 
Shin, his name was. He wasn’t much younger than you, but he had the spirit of a boy, always able to make you laugh before he served you breakfast. He had arrived only a few months after you had, citing suicidal ideation as a catalyst to seeking Suguru’s services. Once treated, he had felt larger than life. 
And now, his face is frozen in time – the look of sheer fear. 
“Useless monkey,” Suguru tuts, wiping the blood off his face. You’ve seen that look on his face before — when he’s cruel and callous in battle. When he snaps the neck of a special grade curse before he eats it. 
You run to the bathroom to vomit.
When you emerge, one of the twins looks at you curiously. Mimiko. She smiles at you serenely, her eyes flickering with taunt. 
“Is everything alright, Y/N-san?”
“Y-yes,” you nod. “Just a bit under the weather.”
“Are you feeling sick?” Her eyes light up for a second. “Oh, could you be pregnant? Nanako and I really wish there was another kid around—“
“No, no, I’m not pregnant,” you cut her off, shocked. Did she think you and Suguru were… together? Did she think you were his concubine?
“Ah. I can get the servants to prepare some ginger tea for you.”
“No need, Mimiko,” you shake your head, smiling sheepishly. “I just… need to get some air.”
She leaves you alone as you walk towards the pagoda. You feel another wave of nausea when you remember Shin’s lifeless eyes. The blood on his throat. 
You stare at the sunset. It’s been a long time since you’ve left the temple of your own volition. Suguru keeps a tight leash on you nowadays, blaming the unpredictability of your power. Bitterly, you realize that you’re only ever in town alongside him. 
Sometimes, you miss being a stray.
His presence is immediate. When you turn, his long hair sways in the breeze as he flashes you a cat-like smile. 
“Thought you were trying to run away from me,” he murmurs, walking towards you. “But you’d never do that, would you?”
“Just… enjoying the view.”
He looks at you, amused. It feels belittling. 
“I apologize. I thought Nanako had locked the door.”
Your blood stills. He saw you.  
“I thought you only killed curses,” you stammer. For the first time, his presence makes you feel unsafe. 
“I never said that, sweet girl,” he chuckles. He plays with a loose strand of your hair. “Humans are beneath us, you know that. Humans are the reason curses are created. Curses just like the one that nearly killed you.”
You don’t have it in you to protest. He’s gotten closer to you now. A hand on your waist. His lips kissing your hairline in a way that makes you feel like a child again.
“I— I liked him,” you stutter. 
“Mm,” he hums. “He liked you, too. A bit too much if you ask me.”
You stay silent. Only the sound of cicadas fill the air. 
“It’s not your fault,” he grins. “You charm anyone you meet by default, you know. But sometimes, these followers… they want to threaten our mission. Sometimes, they’re paid off by sorcerers who are targeting me to gather intel. And darling, when there’s a target on my back, there’s a target on yours.”
You pull away from him with wide eyes. His face is neutral. So naive, you are. He was only doing you a favor, but a sheltered girl like you trusts too easily. 
“Just remember. I will be the only one to protect you.”
__
He finds you in the garden.
You’re surrounded by wildflowers, your yukata loose enough on you that it falls off your shoulder when you sit up to greet him. The sight of your bare skin tokes the fire in his stomach. He’s dressed more casually tonight, in a plain kimono as opposed to his usual gojo-gesa.
“Enjoying the fireflies?” he asks.
“Yes.”
He notices the dark circles under your eyes. Your smile is tired now. You stare blankly as if you’re in a trance. 
“You’ve been a bit off lately,” he muses. “Something on your mind?”
You blink at him in surprise, almost regretting it once you make eye contact. The hint of a lazy smile is there while his eyes scrutinize you. It always feels like he can see right through you, observing you just before he eats you whole. 
“No, Geto-sama,” you shake your head.
He laughs, rubbing your shoulder. “So formal with me.”
“Shouldn’t I be?” you knit your brows. You had been at the temple for less than a year. You weren’t intimate with him enough to warrant that. You weren’t intimate with him in the way your heart longed for.
“Not with me. Never with me.”
“Suguru.” You mull over the taste of his name on your tongue. The shape of it in your mouth. “I’m okay, Suguru.”
You feel pathetic under his gaze. You can tell he’s waiting for you to say something, sensing the apprehension in your voice. The slight quiver of your bottom lip as you avoid his face.
“I’m just… recovering. From my technique, that’s all,” you say hoarsely.
It’s not a complete lie — the intensive training with Suguru led you to discover that you could bend time and space to your will in small aspects. Teleporting short distances became a new tool for your arsenal. It was still difficult to manage and exhausting to exert. The other day, your nose had bled so much that you almost thought your membranes would burst completely.
“You’re exhausting yourself,” he says gently, rubbing a hand to the small of your back. “But you’re improving rapidly. I’m proud of you.”
Warmth floods your body at his praise. It was too easy for him to wrap you around his finger, and you were starting to hate it.
“Thank you,” you mumble. 
“Do you feel powerful?”
You take a moment of reprieve when he asks this. Powerful? Despite being a sorcerer and wielding the ability to exorcise the monstrous manifestations of human suffering, you did not feel powerful at all. You never have. If anything, you only felt useful.
“Not really.”
“You should,” he smiles. “You’re getting stronger. We’re untouchable together, you and me.”
You and me echoes loud in your brain. Stitches itself into every crevice unwittingly. 
“Ge– Suguru,” you swallow thickly. “Is that why you saved me? Because you wanted me to get strong?”
“Yes,” he nods without hesitation. “I saw potential in you.”
“Is that all I am? Potential? I’m just– just a vehicle for you?”
He leans over to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. His own hair is down, for once, and you can smell his white tea shampoo as his shoulder touches yours. It almost soothes you.
“You aren’t just a tool to me, you know that,” he sighs, looking at you with intent. “I like taking care of you.”
You nod slowly as you look towards the sky. His words aren’t enough to fill the emptiness inside you. His proximity to you makes your chest constrict in the slightest bit, creaking the floorboards of your ribs inside a haunted house body. 
You shiver when he pulls down your yukata and presses a chaste kiss to your collarbone. It must feel the same as when humans get their curses exorcised by him. Lightness in their being instead of dead weight. Blessed by a god.
“Come inside,” he purrs. “You’re getting cold, yeah? I can see your goosebumps.”
No. His hands were just colder than you expected.
He gathers his hair into a half-up bun before he brings you to his room for the first time. It’s rather bare, save for the kotatsu across from his futon and the talismans that are hanging above it. The calligraphy is messy, unintelligible, as if the text was written manically. 
He sits you down at the kotatsu and pours you bergamot tea. You cough nervously in anticipation.
“Suguru.”
“Yes?”
“Um.. how long do you intend on keeping me here?”
He raises a brow. Looks at you like you’ve asked something stupid.
“You have somewhere else to go?” he asks sarcastically.
You triple-blink at his bluntness. He isn’t taking you seriously. 
“Well, I have a friend or two in my hometown. I was thinking about—”
Your breath hitches when he grabs your chin. His gaze bores into your face, his lips in a hard line.
“You’re unhappy,” he says plainly.
“No, I’m just not sure if I can completely fulfill the purpose that you—”
“Do you think anyone else will take you in?” he spits. “You told me yourself. You have no family. You were barely scraping by when you lived alone. With the amount of cursed energy you possess, you think you’ll be able to protect your friends from all the curses you’ll attract?”
You sink into yourself. As if a switch is flipped, his expression changes completely. There’s that familiar softness in his eyes again. God, the tea was making you feel so warm, too. One look from him and you find yourself melting. Even the Devil would swoon.
“Don’t you think fate brought us together?” he whispers. “Don’t you know how valuable you are to me?”
He almost sounds like he means it. Your rabbit heart speeds up when he strokes your collarbone with his thumb. A heady feeling consumes you and you force yourself to tear your gaze away.
“Look at me,” he demands, grabbing your chin again. He crowds your space, not leaving you any room to breathe. Your gut aches from sudden heat.
“God made you for me. Don’t you know that?”
Your mind goes blank as you nod slowly. He looks at you like he’s starved. No one’s ever looked at you like that before. No one has ever really looked at you before him.
“I’m— I’m sorry, Suguru,” you whisper.
He caresses your cheek, his breath tickling your jaw as he leans in.
“It’s alright, sweetheart. I understand what it’s like to feel a little stir-crazy. I’ll take you out more often, yeah?”
“O-okay.”
He grins and it comes off as sardonic.
“Such a spoiled girl. Only the very best for my girl, hm? I clothe her, feed her, make her stronger. And what do I get in return?” he scolds, thumb swiping over your quivering bottom lip. “She tries to run away from me.”
“I’m not,” you pout.
“You’re not?” he scoffs.
You don’t know what to do other than apologize. You were weak like that.
“You’re so good,” he sighs. “And you want to keep being good, is that right?”
“Yes,” you mumble. 
You shiver again when he runs his fingers through your hair, his other hand undoing the ties of your yukata. You sharply inhale at the cool air hitting in your nipples, the rest of you trembling at the prospect of being so bare in front of him. God or prophet, you didn’t know. All that you know now is that there was no coming back from this. 
“My good girl,” he whispers, nipping at your earlobe. “My best girl.”
You whimper when you feel his tongue on your jaw. His kisses are tantalizingly slow. Teasing. He marvels at the flutter of your lashes in response to his touch. 
He had tried to deny those feelings in the beginning, but he couldn’t help it anymore. He feels as though he’s created you. He liked you delicate, lace winged. A butterfly caught in a jar.
Suguru thinks this is fair. He has always believed in fairness, and although one might argue that his philosophy is a direct contradiction to that, he could beg to differ. Different people had different values, that was all. You just happened to have an advantage in the hierarchy he holds in his head. A precious thing, his treasure. 
When he turned his back on Jujutsu society by becoming a curse user, he would avenge the suffering of the sorcerers around him. Years of adapting to the taste of shit and vomit would eventually earn him something that made it all worth it. He’s convinced that something was you.
He was your savior, therefore you were his blessing. It was only fair that he could take you the way he wanted. You were meant to be found by him. You were meant to be kept. 
You barely put up a fight.
You whimper when he parts your legs with his hands and finds you embarrassingly wet. Every stroke of his hands on your inner thigh has you twitching involuntarily. 
“Oh,” he coos. “Look at that.”
You look away in shame, trying to close your legs, but he forces them open with a bruising grip. Your heart drops to your stomach. 
“What’s wrong, baby? You want to be good for me, right?”
You nod without a word, trying to control your breathing. Your brain is telling you that you want this — you’d wanted to be his from the moment you saw him. Your body tells you the same, but dread creeps up your spine.
You gasp when he grazes your clit with his fingers. He plays with it, stares at your cunt through your underwear like it’s a prize.
“Let me see you,” he murmurs. “Don’t be afraid. I’m the only person in this world you can trust.”
He slips your panties off easily and you wince at the sound of your wetness sticking to the fabric. He applies more pressure to your bud, distracting you with his mouth on yours. You mewl into his mouth without realizing and he grins against your lips, slipping his tongue inside. 
When you feel a finger push into your walls, you convulse in surprise, though you don’t pull away like he expects. You merely clutch him harder, your hands wrinkling the sleeve of his haori. 
“Shit, you’re tight,” he rasps. “No one’s been here before, is that right? Just me?”
He groans when you look at him with innocent eyes and nod meekly. Of course he would be your first. You were nothing but a wounded dog when he found you, barely had a life of your own before he took you. You were pure and the world was keeping you for him. It was meant to be.
“S-Suguru…” you breathe. He’s pulled you into his lap now, your cunt getting his kimono wet. The slick of your cunt around his finger is enough to make blood rush to his cock. 
“So pretty,” he mumbles. In one fell swoop, he takes you in his arms and carries you to the futon. You squeak in surprise at being lifted off the floor so quickly and so easily. 
He takes the pause in his actions to undress himself, slipping off his robes, and when you see the thickness of his length prodding against his toned stomach, your mouth goes dry. 
“C’mere,” he beckons. You obey.
He kisses you sweetly on your mouth and then down your jaw, squeezing your breasts. Your breath hitches as he takes the time to rub his thumb over your nipples. Suddenly, his teeth graze your chest. Biting, tasting. Forbidden fruit.
You let out a quiet moan and he chuckles. “So sensitive.”
Without a warning, he plunges two fingers into your cunt and you nearly cry out. There’s a choked noise, something in between pleasure and resignation. It’s all too much. When he adds a third finger and feels much less resistance, he laughs. 
“Taking me so well. You’re doing so good,” he encourages before lapping at your chest again. When his fingers curl at just the right angle, your vision starts to get fuzzy. His thumb on your clit only intensifies the feeling.
“I c-can’t—”
“Hm? Use your words.”
“I’m… I’m gonna…”
His movements still and you nearly scream. He pulls back to see tears brimming your eyes and he kisses them away gently despite his cruel smirk. 
“Nonono, please—”
“Please what?” He feigns innocence. 
You bite your lip, your face too hot to feel comfortable expressing what you want. You feel the ghost of your curse wrap around your throat again. Once again, you find that the ticket to salvation has silky black hair and snake eyes. The artillery of a fallen angel disguised as something pure.
He can tell you’re frustrated but too afraid to voice it. You’re as pliable as he knew you would be. Endlessly easy to coax a reaction from. 
“Do you expect everything to be handed to you? Just because you’re mine?” he taunts. 
His. His. His.
You shake your head, whimpering. 
“Then ask nicely, baby.”
Your cunt is on fire even though he isn’t touching you. When he strokes your lip and pushes his thumb into your mouth, you let him. Your tongue tickles his fingertip.
“Ah, so you still have a tongue. You can still speak.”
He laughs when you pout.
“Please touch me,” you say, your voice as quiet as a breeze.
“What was that?” He grins even wider. 
“Pleasetouchme,” you whimper, your voice light as air.“Please… please make me cum.”
“Good girl,” he chuckles, licking into your mouth. His fingers fuck you in earnest now. You feel so full that your eyes roll back. It’s cute.
Poor thing. Suguru is a patient man, but he’s not sure if he has it in him to wait. He could make you cum three more times so that you’re truly ready for him, but he doesn’t want to. He supposes that if he breaks you, you’ll thank him anyway. No one else wants you more than him, you had to understand that. 
His cock throbs at the sight of you coming undone. It’s nearly animalistic, like provoking violence from weak prey. Cataclysmic like a falling star. He’s consumed with it, with the fact that he can do this to you and no one else can. 
He fingers you through the aftershocks, too, until you sob loud enough that his other hand has to cover your mouth. You squirm underneath him, shaking your head in desperation. 
He admires the slick of sweat on your chest, your glowing figure. When he releases you, he thinks briefly that you’re on the verge of passing out. But you tremble, rapidly breathing, eyes unfocused as your lashes flutter. 
Suguru licks you off of his fingers and you stare in horror, returning to yourself.  It makes him giddy, how even your spirit is infinitesimal.
“You taste so sweet,” he purrs. He kisses you roughly, tongue prying your mouth open and making you moan. “See? Sweet. You’re perfect.”
He likes seeing you all flushed. Glaze on your cheekbones. He thinks he should make you his wife, memorialize your fucked out form with a commissioned painting and hang it above his bed. A good luck charm among the talismans. You look too good to ruin with his cock, but he knows he’d already taken all of you anyway.
He’ll put you back together after. Pamper you with yuzu slices in a hot bath. Play the part of a boyfriend instead of a master.
He pins you down even though he doesn’t need to. You let him settle in between your thighs, his aching cock slapping against your stomach. 
“So cute when you’re scared,” he chuckles at the look on your face.
“It’s… big,” you say meekly. 
“It’ll fit. It won’t be so bad, yeah? I changed my mind about punishing you for trying to run away.”
Panic paints your features.
“I wasn’t trying to run away! I promise.” Your lip quivers again. Maybe he should make you beg.
“Is that right?” He leans in, precum spreading on the skin above your cunt, tip grazing your clit just slightly. You bite your tongue so you don’t moan from the sensitivity.
“Yes. I want to stay.”
“And why’s that?” he jeers. 
“Because— because you’ve given me everything.”
He waits for you to elaborate.
“Because I’m yours. I’m…  your good girl,” you slur through tears, voice above a whisper.
“Poor baby,” he hums. “Of course you are. Always will be.” Whether you like it or not.
You moan at the same time he prods his tip inside. When he sinks in even further, right to the hilt, he becomes delirious with need. It takes everything in him to not pound into you recklessly.
“Pretty fucking cunt,” he groans. “So warm.”
More hot tears, but your dread is replaced with rapture. He fills you up, already poking at the most sensitive spot inside of you. Your body ripples with pleasure as he moves and digs into your guts, an ocean of tender heat.
It’s a branding. You don’t exist if it isn’t for him.
“Suguru,” you moan. 
He kisses your neck, teeth hard on your flesh. Pulling it taut while his tongue rolls in it and leaves mouth-shaped blessings.
His hips drive into you with more force, cock reaching places that your fingers could never reach. You shut your eyes and phosphenes float through the static of blackness. They linger when you open them again, Suguru’s face illuminating in grainy color.
It takes you a bit to realize his mutters, the way he’s babbling through moans.
Good fucking girl. All mine forever. I’ll die with you.
You let out a pitched moan as Suguru wraps his fingers around your throat. Every part of your body feels like it’s bursting. You cum like that, your walls outstretched by his thickness carving you out in the shape of him. 
“Take it,” he grunts. “Take my cock. Fuck, I think I’ve been waiting for you my whole life.”
He’ll probably obsess over your cunt for ages. The face you make when you’re being used. Your ragdoll body.
His bun had come undone. Even if his cock wasn’t in you, your stomach would ache from how beautiful he looked. Eyes focused on you, nearly deranged at the way he was blistering you raw. The cascade of tears down your cheeks. It made him impossibly hard. 
He pulls out quickly to flip you onto your stomach so he can rut into you from behind. The angle makes it so that his cock is even deeper. 
“Oh, Suguru—”
“Yeah, baby? Gonna cum again?”
You whine, all high-pitched and girlish. 
“Tell me you’re mine. That you’ll never leave me,” he grunts.
“I’m yours,” you hiccup. “I’ll n-never leave you.”
Your cunt was starting to burn, even with how wet you were. Suguru cums with a rough thrust at your words, nose buried in between the lovebirds littering your shoulder. You’re full of him. He doesn’t stop, his dick still hard inside you. 
“Shit,” he hisses, looking down to see his cum oozing out of your pussy, all mixed up in your arousal. “How are you still so fucking tight?”
He grits his teeth when he feels you squeeze around him. You can barely form words now, crying as you can feel yourself about to cum again. 
“That’s it,” he pants. “Cum for me, princess. Cum on that cock for me.”
You’re twitchier this time. Your moan tapers off into squeals as you bury your tear-stained face into the pillow. He follows after you with a gasp, his large body covering you like a cocoon. 
He kisses the nape of your neck. Between your shoulder blades. His cock stills inside you, but he doesn’t pull out until he softens completely. When you stop shaking, he turns you over. 
“There’s my angel,” he says fondly. “Thought you passed out on me.”
You shake your head. He smiles lazily, leaning to kiss you all over your face. 
Your bones feel like jelly, but you still switch your positions with intent, and to your surprise, he lets you. Naked and breathing heavily above him, you examine him with his hair spread out on the pillow, cheeks flushed and cherubic. He almost looks innocent. 
He groans at the way your leaking cunt grinds on his crotch, prompting him to get half-hard already. He grabs your hips at the same time you grab the base of his throat. He laughs. 
“Do you feel powerful?”
You blink twice and your eyes glaze over. 
In your vision, you see Suguru’s face flashing you his usual grin, this time showing all his teeth as blood drips from his chin. When you look down at your hands, they’re saturated in the same red. He kisses you despite it all and you understand. 
“Yes,” you breathe. “I do.”
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cursingtoji · 1 year ago
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𓆩𖥟𓆪 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐑 — Geto is a thoughtful leader who uses visual resources to help his followers learn, and tonight you get to play a part. #Cult-tober.
< Part 1 - Contradiction
— cw: religious imagery but no specific religion, exhibitionism, emotional manipulation, god complex, public nudity, fingering, unprotected, oral (f -> m), sex cult behaviour. 3k words.
— note: did my research on cults for this one, also based on this request.
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“Come here” you hear his voice after calling your name, the tone gives you chills.
You know better than to fear him, this is not the first time he calls you to the main room of the temple — a place that has become the closest thing you can call a home now. This room in particular is already very known to you, so why the fear? Can’t you remember the familiar feeling of the tatami under your knees? What about against your cheek? Wasn’t worth the pain of having your face rubbing on it while your master roughly thrusted into your behind? You do recall his pitiful smile when he realized what the mat had done to the soft skin of your face, right? He kissed it so tenderly while holding you like you were made of glass, a glass he didn’t mind breaking a few minutes prior to that, but now, glass.
So what’s wrong now?
Except for the dozens of followers sitting on their knees in that same room right now. How come you never saw that many people before? And more importantly, why are you seeing them now?
A few hours ago, he left you two things along with a note with the time and place you had to be. Those things are: a sheer black lace mask, very delicate fabric meant for your eyes, the type of thing you could picture a woman using in a ball in the 1800s, and a yukata, a simple one. You thought it was weird he didn’t leave an obi — the belt to tie up the yukata, so you took one from your own drawer to complete the traditional piece.
The mask is clearly not part of it, but you know better than to question him. Besides, the note is clear, you must wear nothing but those things. Nothing.
The room you thought you knew now seems strange and gloomy, it’s nighttime so there’s only a few candles lightening it up, there’s an essence burning somewhere the smell is weak but it’s there.
Geto in all his glory sits in his altar, his feet are up in the mat, unlike everyone else sitting on their legs. He has the pose of a deity and clearly that is what everyone thinks too.
Your bare feet touch the tatami, slowly approaching the altar and feeling the dozen pairs of eyes upon you, the offsetting lighting doesn't allow you to see their faces, which is probably for the best, yet Geto’s was lit up as if the sun itself rose for him and him only.
“Look at her, when I met her she was sick, this beautiful lady had a disease. I tried to look away, she was too far gone, but what did I do instead, sweet child?”
“You saved my life” you respond without batting an eye, your mind feels cloudy.
“Kneel” you obey taking place beside him.
Maybe he is a deity after all.
Just that day you were having a conversation with the twins. They had so many questions, especially after seeing you hurt by some curse, so many why’s leaving their little mouths.
“It doesn’t matter!” your voice rose for the first time since taking them in your embrace “If Geto-sama says it’s day and the sky is dark, it’s day. If he says it’s night when you can see the sun, you go to bed because you sleep when it’s night, understood?”
Sometimes you barely recognize the voice that leaves your lips. Scolding is something you never saw yourself doing, not to the girls you loved more than anything.
In your situation one would assume this behavior is driven by fear, what would Geto do if he found out your girls were questioning his actions? They cannot possibly care more about this non-sorcerer in front of them. Never.
But those people would be wrong. Fear does make you do what you do. Love does.
Only love makes you stay put in front of him when he unties your yukata, love has you looking him in the eye even while the disapproval for the presence of the obi is evident.
Geto makes you sit facing him, his stunning image much more welcoming than the unlighted audience, he’s big enough for you to understand can still see the quiet crowd behind you. His calloused hands touch your shoulders under the yukata, the soft touch is enough to warm up your entire body as he slowly revells a skin decorated by some few bruises, some caused by curses, some caused by gods, well… one god.
“She’s still not cured, I don’t know if she’ll ever be” he doesn’t have to project his voice too much in the quiet room, the hot breathing fans over your face, “But I’ll keep trying nevertheless” he says more quietly.
Geto’s hand goes between your legs and you have trouble keeping your sounds to yourself. His hand is big, and the space between your closed legs — while you’re still sitting on them — and your core is narrow, Geto has to be a little rough to get where he wants to.
And he always gets what he wants.
Your face is warm, breathing erratically but still… you’re not panicking even given the disturbing setting. It’s all due to him, if it was anyone else you would be screaming right now, fighting your way out of this.
Geto starts to stroke your folds with his fingers while talking about sins, the best thing you can do is shut your little brain from overthinking everything he says and taking it as personal.
However, what is left to do when he keeps going on and on about undeserving ones while teasing your fluttering hole? You can’t even look him in the eye, just keep staring his throat as he speaks. Your gasp interrupts him when he inserts a finger, both your hands to your mouth, you were distracted enough to forget this was obviously the next step.
Geto snaps his eyes back to you, not glad about the interruption, yet he resumes his speech so he can go on with his plans.
Your hands remain on your closed mouth, not wanting to make the same mistake again. Geto adds another finger and starts scissoring you, which worries you slightly, you thought this was merely a play for the followers, an exhibition of power, but the stretching he’s doing indicates he plans to go all the way. That and the erection under his haori, which you should’ve led you to suspect his intentions from the beginning since he’s never presented himself to his followers without all the layers of his traditional clothing.
Geto removes his fingers, straightening his posture as he finishes his sentence, he pats his lap and you find his eyes, they are predatory, from then on you’re dealing with Geto-sama, not Suguru.
You’re already undoing the ropes that tie his haori just like he did to you a few minutes ago. He’s bare under the fabric, dick is tall and hard, the leaking tip shines under the orange glow of the candlelight as you align it with your entrance.
“If you can’t control your urges, they’ll control you” he claims, hands behind your knees, his voice is steady but the grip he has on you tells it’s hard to control himself too.
“No person or thing should control you… except for me” the last part is whispered for your ears only. You bottom out on him, needing a moment to recover, not just from the stretch on your lower half but from his words and by how willing you are to let him control you.
Especially when he puts his hand on your head, pressuring slightly guiding you to his neck. He keeps his hand there, caressing your hair as you relax on his hold, like he’s comforting someone who's just lost a dear relative, not a simple villager he spared and is now balls deep inside dozens of followers.
With a sharp pinch on your thigh Geto signs you to start moving, you arch your back and raise your hips to slide out of his cock till only the tip is left then sitting back. Since the yukata was not fully removed, it stays on you, sleeves pooling on the middle of your arms, the rest serves as a curtain, keeping the audience from viewing the junction of you and your savior.
You busy your mouth by kissing and sucking his neck, he gives your hair a discreet pull, a warning to not mark him, guess it would be bad for his reputation if his beloved sorcerers find out he’s whipped by a good-for-nothing human.
All they know — as far as Geto is concerned —, is that you’re his little pet, kind of a 3 for the price of 2 after he took in the twins, a package deal he simply had to accept.
Whatever, you don’t care about them anyways. As long as they’re treating your girls as one of their own, it doesn’t matter how they treat you. Geto, Mimiko and Nanako are all you need to be content with your life.
Geto should limit himself from touching you, his fingers shouldn’t be tracing the little marks and scratches on your back.
“You are not perfect, mistakes will happen, that’s why you need someone to guide you” he talks to the audience, his chin resting on your shoulders as the tip of his fingers run over each trauma and imperfections on your back. At this point — with his dick reaching such a sweet spot inside your walls —, you are not sure if he’s still indirectly talking to you, but something makes you think he’s talking to himself, about you.
Is it such a delusional thought? That you are the one guiding him and not the other way around? You thighs clench around him, the awkward feeling in your chest start to bring clarity to your pleasure blurred mind and you start to look around reflecting on your situation.
Geto relizes something switched in your dumb little head, you do that sometimes, look around with wide eyes and heavy breathing. Suguru remembers the days in jujutsu tech, when he was confused, consumed by the trauma and unsure about his future. Why did you make him remember that? Your chest is rising rapidly, he doesn’t want you to panic, that’s not supposed to happen under his watch.
You’re taken from his lap.
“You love me, don’t you?” Suguru holds your chin bringing your focus to him, only him. You nod slowly, admiring his sculpted face by the candlelight, “Then what are you afraid of?”
You search your mind for all the reasons to be afraid right now, shouldn’t be hard, all you need is to look around and remember why you’re here.
Yet his hazel eyes don’t allow you to find any of those reasons, somehow your heart doesn’t feel so heavy anymore.
“Don’t you trust me?” he rubs your chin and you nod again, “Show me” you blink confusingly, “Show me how much you love me.”
You’re sitting on your knees as your eyes trail down where his member is still hard, it glistens with your juices and throbs slightly, the sight is too irresistible.
So you bow to your savior, taking him fully into your mouth, the position giving the closest thing to a privacy moment, where you could pretend it’s just you and Suguru like in the late nights in his chamber.
“There you go” he sighs happily patting your head, not putting any pressure, like what you’re doing is not sexual at all.
It’s merely a form of adoration. And Geto deserves being adored.
Naturally, you take him as deep as you possibly can, focusing your best in worshiping every inch of his skin, putting as much love into it as you can, not even minding the emptiness on your lower half or how you’re dripping on the mat.
There’s a buzz in your ear, you know Geto is talking, finishing his speech probably, but you can’t actually hear him, feels like hearing someone talking from a distance.
The last thing you remember is the hot shot on the back of your throat and the member twitching in your mouth. You think you heard Geto moan, which brings a weird feeling in your stomach since, as far as you know, you’re supposed to be the only one to hear that. His thumb goes to your chin, whipping the saliva and cum, pushing you to release him, you do, but you keep kissing his soft length until the smell of him mixed with the candles and something only this room had made you black out.
Phenomenal.
A word that resumes what Geto thinks about your performance tonight. If he gave you a script it wouldn’t have played out so perfectly.
Sometimes Geto underestimates how willing you are to be controlled by him.
When everything is done, he takes you into his arms, after wrapping the Yukata back around your body, he raises to his feet and steps down from his small stage carrying you.
There’s a door behind the stage, passing the curtains, which he usually uses as entrance and exit. Yet that night he feels like walking through the audience, with a pretty little thing unconscious on his mighty arms and a bunch of loyal followers bowing on his feet he experiences being, truly, a god.
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