#i feel like the delusions breaking has been freeing in a way

[adimouze]

loving the fact that daniel is basically being a slut and enjoying summer on instagram like hell yeah babe go show off your hot bod you deserve it

[shhhsecretsideblog]

Hi, i hope you don't mind if i request to combine 2 prompts in one scenario.

8. "There's so much pressure..."

12. "Come on, you'll be fine. First labour's take ages.

Scenario: a pregnant woman got kidnapped by her obsessive ex-boyfriend, went into labor and begged him to take her to the hospital because she can't be having the baby in his basement, but he refused. Go as wild and dark as you want.

Thanks 💌

Thanks for the request anon, this was delicious to write. Only prompt no.8 has been included as the other didn’t naturally fit in to wherever the hell this story went. I swear I have no control, these stories take on a life of their own. You said go wild and dark, so… 😈 Trigger warnings; kidnapping, vomit, blood, violence, mental instability, death (not mum or bubs dw), oh and of course fpreg & birth. Hope you like it

Chained

Libby’s eyes fluttered open. It took a moment for her vision to focus but when it did she realised nothing was familiar. The room was dimly lit, no natural light source, only a singular light bulb hanging from the ceiling. Dark grey bricks formed each of the four walls and the floor below was concrete and rough. She was lying down, on old discoloured bedding on a rickety metal bed. Where the hell was she?! She tried to push herself upright, but she discovered one arm could not be moved. It was handcuffed to the bed!

“What the hell…” Libby muttered.

“Ah… you’re awake.” Came a voice from the shadows.

Stepping into the light Libby saw a man walk towards her. It was Scott, her ex boyfriend. He looked awful. She’d not seen him since they broke up 18 months ago. His hair had grown, now matted and unkept, dark circles hung beneath his eyes and his usually clean shaven chin now sported a severe and dishelved five o’clock shadow.

“…Scott? Where… where am I?” She asked confused and still a little bit groggy.

“You’re at home darling. I rescued you.”

Libby’s brain whirled into overdrive. She remembered going to a midwife appointment, it was her final check up before her due date, she finished the appointment and headed back to her car. She had stopped just before opening the door, hearing something behind her, and then…. everything went black.

“Rescued me?! From what?” Libby asked, managing to push herself to a sitting position with her one free hand.

“From making a mistake. Did you really think you could keep me away from my baby?” Scott drawled, his eyes staring hungrily at her pregnant stomach.

“What the fuck are you talking about? We broke up, I moved on. This isn’t your baby!”

Libby’s outburst was rewarded by a forceful smack across the face. The distinctive metallic taste of blood soon filled her mouth. She was shocked into silence.

“We were great together! We were happy; we were going to get married, have a family, and then… Brendon came along. Poisoning our relationship, turning you against me, stealing you for himself. No! I won’t let him take this away. I’ve brought you home baby… so we can be together.” Scott’s hand touched her bump and his eyes widened in glee. “Where we can be a family.”

This man was insane, Libby thought, realising the true danger of this situation. It was one thing having an ex that still held a candle towards you, but this was way beyond that. She knew Scott hadn’t taken the break up well, but since the split he’d clearly disappeared into a realm of utter delusion. The baby in her womb shifted, feeling the fear of its mother. Scott’s mouth twitched into an uncomfortable grin, feeling the child move. Libby daren’t say anything, it was clear he was unstable and there was no telling what might set him off.

“Rest up sweetie. I’ll get you some food, you must be hungry. Eating for two and all that.” Scott said cheerfully, removing his hand from her stomach and disappearing upstairs.

Libby looked down at her stomach and her handcuffed wrist. She didn’t feel hungry at all. Only nauseous.

~•~

Scott returned and brought her food. Libby didn’t say anything, didn’t move, too scared of accidentally provoking him. He left the tray of sandwiches and crisps on the side table next to the bed and disappeared upstairs, offering a firm “Eat” before he went.

Her memories had returned as she gradually came around from whatever drug Scott had administered. Brendon and Libby had decided to have a little trip away this weekend before the baby came. A baby-moon as they say. They’d told all their friends and family they’d be out of town and without signal for a few days, but this morning Brendon called to say he had a work emergency and they’d have to cancel. That was fine, Libby would just go visit her parents instead. Only she never got a chance to call her parents after the midwife appointment. Everyone thought her and Brendon were away, and Brendon thought she was at her parents - no one would realise she’d been kidnapped.

Her stomach rolled with fear. She needed to think, find a way out of here. Wherever “here” was…. Where the fuck had Scott taken her? She didn’t recognise the room, it could be anywhere. She looked over at the plate of food and her heart sank. She recognised the crockery - this was his family’s cabin, in the middle of the woods.

~•~

Days. She’d been there days. Her family and Brendon would hopefully know she was missing by now. But they’d never find her here.

Scott continued to visit, to bring her food, to talk the baby in her womb. He’d offered to bathe her once, disgusted by the thought she refused. When he tried to get more forceful, hitting her again, she faked practice labour pains and he thankfully left her alone to rest.

She barely spoke to him anymore, too fearful to say the wrong thing again, of which she had learnt the hard way. She tried once to play along with his delusion, that he had “rescued” her from Brendon and now they could be a family. Believing her, Scott eventually unlocked the handcuffs, but when she made a break for it towards the stairs of the basement Scott went ballistic. They got into a fight; she kicked and screamed and hit, but he was stronger and in the carnage she fell forward against the wooden stairs she was trying to climb.

Scott was stricter with the handcuffs after that. Libby swore to herself not to try it again for fear of what might happen to the baby if she fell again.

She had been feeling cramps ever since the fall. They weren’t too bad or debilitating, thankfully she wasn’t bleeding which Libby hoped was a good sign and that her baby was okay. The fall was a brutal reminder of the precious cargo she was carrying and she had to be careful.

The next night Libby was awoken by a forceful cramp rolling through her middle, much worse than any of the others she had felt. Curling round her stomach she breathed heavily through the wave until it passed, and she promptly fell back asleep.

It happened again shortly after, pulling her from her slumber and waking every cell of her body as it peaked, like a coil twisting tighter and tighter. She pushed herself up to sit on the bed. The room was pitch black - Scott controlled the lights and was the only way she knew if it was day or night. She rubbed the aching cramp rolling across her tightened belly with one hand, the other remaining chained to the bedpost. She wished she could move, to walk it off, but with the handcuffs and the darkness she had little options. Instead she got on her hands and knees and rocked steadily through the pain.

“Please be practice contractions…” she whispered to herself. “You can’t come now baby, you’re safe in there. Wait until we get outta here okay?”

The cramp eventually eased and after a few minutes waiting for the next, Libby let herself sink sideways back onto the bed. The baby had got the message, it was just practice pains, she thought to herself as she drifted back off to sleep.

~•~

The light to the basement flickered to life followed by the familiar stomping of feet on wooden steps.

“Morning sweetheart. How’s the mother of my child today?” Scott said in such a cheerful caring tone it caused a shiver to roll up Libby’s spine.

She glared at him from the bed, lying down under the covers half asleep and curled around her bump.

“Still not talking to me eh? Oh well. It won’t be long before I have a son or daughter to talk to.” Scott drawled, as he placed a cup of water and slice of toast onto the bedside table.

Another cramp squeezed her belly and Libby sucked in a breath, hissing through her teeth. She could feel her stomach hardening beneath her fingers as the practice contraction squeezed.

“Honey, are you alright?” Scott’s eyes pinched in cautious concern.

“Just a kick.” Libby said, schooling her face back to a neutral expression.

“Excited to meet their daddy no doubt.” He gleefully said making Libby feel sick.

This baby is NOT yours! She cried in her head.

“Get up and have some breakfast. I’ve got some things to show you today.” Scott said, offering a hand to help her up.

Libby ignored his hand and pushed herself upright. “What things?”

“All in good time my dear. It’s a surprise.” And with that he disappeared back upstairs with a gallop.

She could hear banging and thumping above her and wondered what on earth he was doing. Her stomach growled and she reluctantly nibbled on the toast that was provided. After eating she was left solely with her thoughts and the noises from upstairs. Plus the occasional cramps that continued to plague her. Sitting down became too frustrating and she managed to get herself to standing right beside the bed. Her arm was pulled uncomfortably far forward by the handcuffs, but at least it relieved the pressure in her hips.

The baby felt so low, like it was grinding on her pelvis. But she did feel like her breathing was better now. Libby tried to focus only on the positives and did not dwell enough to realise this meant the baby had dropped into position for birth.

She stayed standing as long as she could beside the bed, riding out the braxton hicks and swaying her hips side to side, but eventually her legs ached from the awkward position so she return to sit on the bed.

The practice contractions continued to wash over her whilst Scott was banging away upstairs. Libby was starting to get hot and sweaty and could barely sit still through them. She found herself biting her lips and humming through them, trying to keep the noise to a minimum. She didn’t want to attract Scott’s attention. She ended up back on all fours on the bed, one hand awkwardly attached to the bed while she rocked forwards and back through the rising waves. It was getting harder and harder to stay silent through these pains and it was getting more and more difficult to convince herself these were only practice contractions.

“Ohhhh… we had a deal baby. You have to s-stay in there…. It’s not s-safe…” Libby moaned quietly to her child, the pressure in her hips mounting with every contraction.

The sounds of movement from above made her panic. Scott was coming. Quickly, she moved from all fours and returned to her sitting position on the bed. Sitting down made everything worse - the heavily feeling of the baby so so low caused the pressure to spike. So much so she nearly threw up, gaging slightly at the same time Scott opened the basement door.

She could hear him huffing and puffing as he stomped every step, he was clearly struggling with something, and she saw the “surprise” before she saw him. It was a crib! Oh hell no, she thought to herself. There is no way my baby is being born here and it will never go in that thing.

“Darling…” he cooed as he got down to the basement “I got you something. Well, I got our baby something - a crib!” He said proudly as he placed it at the foot of the bed.

Libby didn’t say anything; saying something negative could earn her a slap, saying something positive he’d think she was up to something.

“Well?” He asked, clearly getting frustrated with her silence.

“It’s… nice.” She said timidly, he didn’t seem any calmer so she added “thank you.”

With that Scott broke into an unhinged smile. “Only the best for my baby. Made it myself!”

Libby felt the familiar tightening of another contraction approaching. Breathing steadily through her nose, she tried to keep any pain showing on her face.

“What do you think of the design?” He urged, unaware of the struggle happening inside Libby’s womb.

“Great.” She gritted out as calmly as she could.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Scott rushed upstairs leaving Libby alone for a minute.

The second he was out of sight her eyes scrunched and she panted erratically. Her hips were on fire, the baby sinking lower and lower. This was no false alarm, Libby finally admitted to herself.

Scott came bounding downstairs with a pile of baby clothes and blankets. “I also got these. I wasn’t sure if we were having a boy or a girl so got a selection of different clothes. And lots of blankets and toys. Everything we could possibly need.”

Libby couldn’t help it but she groaned loudly and curled over her contracting stomach.

“They’re not that bad!” Scott said, referring to the pile of clothes he’d now dumped into the crib.

“Ooooooh Scott….” Libby whimpered, the pain still barrelling through her body.

“Lib? What is it? What’s wrong?” He crouched down in front of her and placed a hand on her knee.

“I think… hooooo- I think I’m in labour. You have to take me to the hospital.” Libby pleaded.

“What? Oh no, you’re not fooling me again.” Scott recoiled away from her, and started pacing. “You- you tried that before remember. And then you tried to run away, to take my baby away! You were going to leave me Lib! No!! I’m not letting you out of my sight again. No way. No one else can have you. You and that baby are mine!”

“Scott… please. I’m having contractions… I need help… I need doctors…”

“No… I can’t. You’re just going to leave me again. I can’t lose you.” Scott shook his head, like he was trying to reorganise the thoughts inside. “You’re just pretending again, you’re not really having the baby, you’re just trying to escape. Well you can’t trick me twice. Nuh-uh. I’ll come back when you’ve stopped the act.”

“No! Scott!” Libby cried but the door slammed before she could say anything else.

~•~

Libby shouted and pleaded for 10 minutes straight after Scott went upstairs, but he never came back down. She stopped when her voice started to crack and when she thought she heard the front door slam.

This baby was coming and she was trapped - handcuffed to a bed in a basement in the middle of nowhere, the only person for miles was her crazy ex boyfriend who was convinced the baby was his.

Despite her wishful thinking, the contractions just kept on coming. It was as if accepting they were real had made them more frequent and stronger. There was no clock down here, she had no clue how often they struck, but Libby was aware of the gaps in between getting shorter.

Being in labour was bad enough but the fact she couldn’t move due to her restraints made everything a thousand time’s worse. In desperation she tried to squeeze her hand out the metal handcuff, twisting and pulling, but when it started to peel the skin off the back of her hand she screamed and gave up.

She couldn’t sit down anymore, the pain in her hips too great. All fours was bearable but her arms ached after too long. She tried squatting and kneeling against the headboard, standing and swaying beside the bed. Nothing helped. She felt like a caged animal; frustrated, angry, scared. All the while every contraction brought the baby closer and closer to being born, a fate she was trying desperately to avoid. She feared something might go wrong, and she was scared what would happen the moments after she delivered. Scott was clearly unstable, would he leave her here chained to the bed bleeding out and take away her baby?! She needed medical help, not only for the birth but for her best shot at escaping.

When Scott returned he found her on her knees beside the bed, slumped over the mattress and groaning heavily.

“You can stop this charade Libby! I’m not taking you anywhere!” Scott shouted from the steps of the basement.

“Mnnnghhh! It’s not a charade Scott! Oh god…. So much pressure….” Libby whimpered into the mattress, her knees widening instinctually.

“Come off it. You put on a good show but I know you’re faking it.”

Libby could only grunt, roaring against the building pressure between her thighs. An unmistakable splashing sound hit the concrete floor and she cried out. “My waters…. Hooo- I’m not - faking - it…” she panted and turned around to face him.

Scott’s face had paled and his eyebrows shot up. “Y-you really are in labour?”

“Yes,” Libby breathed, turning around awkwardly with the handcuffs and her large bump, sitting down heavily on the now-wet floor “please please take me to the hospital now.”

He didn’t say anything, instead he disappeared quickly back upstairs.

“Scott!!!” She cried out, worried he would just leave her there forever.

He returned a moment later carrying a plastic box. “It’s happening! Don’t worry darling, I have everything we need for our baby to be born.”

It’s not your baby!!!! Libby shouted in her head.

Sitting on the floor, one arm slung up over a shoulder stuck in the handcuffs, she rubbed her low and heavy stomach with the other as Scott began to unpack the box onto the table opposite.

“Towels. Gloves. Scissors. Clamps. Ooh more towels. Little sucker thing. Wow it’s got everything we need in here. Great Amazon find.” Scott commented as he rattled off everything inside the box.

Holy shit! He wants to deliver the baby here! Libby stopped breathing for a moment, panic squeezing at her heart. He was never going to let her go. She was never going to get her baby out of here before it was born.

“Scott… you can’t… be serious…” Libby said with strained breath.

“Shhhhh. It’s okay sweetie. I’ve done all the research, watched loads of videos. I know exactly what I’m doing and I will deliver our baby here.”

“But Scott I need a hospital, with nurses and medication.”

“No you don’t. Women birth babies every day. I’ve had months to prepare for this. It’s going to be fine, it’s going to be perfect.” Scott’s sinister smile chilled her resolve and another contraction struck before she could continue arguing.

He checked his watched and frowned. “You shouldn’t be having another contraction just yet.”

“I can’t hooooo control it!” Libby snipped.

“Oooo is this the part where you get all angry at me for doing this to you?” Scott joked with glee.

“You didn’t do this to me! This isn’t your baby Scott, please just let me go.”

“Don’t lie!!!!!” Scott shouted, an angry fire flashed briefly in his eyes and his fists clenched tight, but a second later the ire quickly disappeared. “You’re just scared, but it’s okay sweetie, I’m here and our baby will be fine.”

“Ohhh god…..” Libby grunted, the baby slipping lower and pressing against her cervix. She had to move, this position was unbearable, but her legs were useless during the raging contraction. She tried to push herself up, yanking her hands forward but the handcuff rattled and left her arm twisted backwards. “Mnnhhh- handcuffs…. Please undo the handcuffs…”

“You know I can’t do that Lib.” Scott said reluctantly.

“Please…. Mnghhhhh the baby…. I need to move. Can’t stay like this Scott…” Libby groaned and whimpered as the contraction peaked and gradually faded.

“I’m sorry honey, I can’t risk it. But let’s get you back onto the bed shall we, you’ll be much more comfortable there.”

The contraction had left her winded, Libby didn’t have the strength to argue anymore. But when Scott approached and went to help her up she managed to grit “Don’t touch me!” batting his advancing hands away.

“That’s gonna be difficult when I’m delivering our child.” Scott sarcastically replied.

Libby’s stomach rolled, not from a contraction but at the disgusting thought of Scott between her legs. Nausea bubbled inside, rising up her throat. She retched. “I think I’m gonna be sick…”

Scott jumped back as she dry heaved. “Erm…. I’ll get a bucket. Hang on.”

Libby struggled up to her knees, clinging sideways to the bed, and vomited all over the floor. The force of her stomach expelling its contents pushed the baby against her dilating cervix and towards the birth canal. She couldn’t stop herself from bearing down at the same time.

No no no… don’t push. Her brain cried but it wasn’t something she had control over.

By the time Scott returned with a bucket Libby had crawled back into the bed, leaving behind a puddle of amniotic fluid and vomit on the floor.

“Jeeze Libby, you’ve made a right mess. I’m glad we’re down here now, that would have been a nightmare to clean the carpets upstairs.”

“…water…” Libby panted, curled up on the bed and holding her hardened stomach, too exhausted to do anything other than bear through the labour pains tearing apart her body.

“Okay, sure.” Scott picked up the glass from the table and gently poured it into Libby’s dry mouth. “Everything will be okay Libby, our baby is nearly here.” He whispered, placing a grimy hand onto her bump and feeling the swell, his eyes hungrily lighting up as his fingers caressed the curve.

~•~

She was dying. This was how it would end; trapped in the dirty basement of her crazy ex boyfriend. She never got to meet her baby, or get married, never got to buy her own home, or travel the world. The pain was so much she could barely see. Curled up on the bed Libby groaned into the pillow as the latest contraction squeezed her body in on itself. She was vaguely aware of Scott flapping around the room, he was talking but she couldn’t hear what he was saying. The only thing she could focus on was the mass of the baby’s head sitting right behind her opening, and she was doing everything she could not to push.

The last few hours had been torture. She’d thrashed around the bed, screaming and begging to be freed, to be taken to the hospital. When transition hit she was brought back onto all fours, grunting and pushing without any semblance of control. Scott rubbed her back and encouraged her through it. She didn’t have the strength to bat him off but she did manage to aim her next round of vomiting onto his feet. And all the while Scott refused to unlock the handcuffs and she remained chained to the bed.

Now she was lying on her side over the covers, exhausted, her body completely and utterly drained. Her knees were curled up as much as she could, her bump squashed between her thighs and her breasts. The contractions were right on top of each other and she panted heavily through each one.

Don’t push! Don’t push! Don’t push! she told herself again and again.

“Right, the waters boiled, everything’s disinfected. Clamps and scissors ready. Towel, check. All we need now… is the baby…” Scott muttered, organising and reorganising the equipment.

Ever since the well-timed vomit, he had kept a grateful distance from Libby. He looked through all the toys and clothes in the crib, talking about all the things he would do with his child, trips they’d make, sports they’d play. He was in his own little world, Libby was just a background character.

Relentless contractions kept hitting her one after the other, she breathed as quietly as she could, tears leaking past her lashes from the effort it was taking not to push. She could feel the baby start to stretch her lips, the head inching further and further even without her active pushing. He’d removed her underwear not long after her waters had broken but her dress remained on her sweaty body, thankfully covering her lower half as she laid on the bed. Libby’s legs slightly parted of their own accord as the baby slipped lower. Still curled up on her side, the baby had a clear exit from its mother, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. Scott was ignoring her when she was lying like this and it was the only position that didn’t make her scream. And yet it also proved to be aiding her delivery.

When the next contraction barrelled straight after its predecessor Libby found herself holding her breath and it was only when the burning feeling started that she realised she was pushing. But she couldn’t stop. Gasping another breath she pushed once more, the baby stretching her wider and wider. An involuntary grunt escaped the labouring mother and alerted Scott to her actions.

“Are you…. Libby - are you pushing?! Is it time?” Scott jumped and rushed over to the bed.

Libby curled further over, her face burying into the pillow, squashing her bump and raising her backside. She groaned long and deep as she pushed the baby further out.

“Oh babe, you can’t push like that! You need to get in the correction position for delivery.” Scott said assuredly with all the delusional confidence his “research” had given him.

He took her bent leg, rolling her over onto her back and she screamed. “Scott! No!” The pain was excruciating, her spine was being stabbed, the fire burning between her thighs. She needed to push but she couldn’t when he kept moving her body.

“You need to be in the right position. Come on now, I know what I’m doing.”

“Stop… I can’t… I need to push…” Libby grunted.

“Wait a minute darling, you’re not ready just yet.”

Scott pulled her up to a sitting position and pushed her back against the headboard, pointlessly fluffing the limp old pillows behind her. Her legs were dragged apart and knees were bent and he jumped onto the foot of the bed and looked up her dress.

“Oh my gosh I can see the head!!!” He squealed. He threw her dress up higher, creasing the fabric just below her baby bump, fully exposing Libby’s vagina and the oval shaped crown of the head.

“Push Libby! You can push now!” He urged.

“I’m not-having a contraction-” Libby panted, furious she had been moved into this ridiculous and torturous position. Nothing about it felt right to her body, she wanted to go back on her side, to kneel, squat, anything but this.

“Oh… erm… well on the next one then. Push. No wait, I forgot the equipment.” Scott bounced off the bed and collected all the sterilised equipment he’d been preparing in readiness. “Ha! All that excitement, nearly forgot these.” He placed the items next to him, by her feet. The metal scissors glinted as they caught the light.

A desperate idea began to form in her head, but a contraction soon swept over her and pulled her focus to the burning ring between her thighs.

“Yes!!! Go on Libby! Push!!!” Scott cried.

Curling forward Libby pushed, her body squeezing the baby lower, its head stretching her wider. She grabbed her thighs, gulped another breath, and pushed. The scissors caught the light again with the movement on the bed. If she could just grab them…

“It’s coming, keep it going honey!” Scott yelled and she could feel his trembling hand between her legs.

Libby huffed releasing the push. It was too much, it was too big…

“Come on baby, go again, you’re so close.” Scott urged.

“Hooo-hoooo- okay…. Here it comes….!!!!” Libby threw herself forward curling over her bump once more. With Scott’s focus on the crowning baby she quickly grabbed the scissors and hid them in the gathered fabric of her dress. She screamed as the baby reached a full crown. Panting frantically her body twitched as the baby stretched her so wide she thought she’d be torn in two. Then it slipped further and with a sudden wail the baby’s head was delivered.

“Wow! The heads out, my baby’s head is born.” Scott awed.

Leaning closer his hands trembled towards the newly born head sitting between her thighs. No! You are not touching my baby! Libby thought, and she grabbed the hidden scissors and plunged them straight into Scott’s neck as she released an animalistic maternal wail.

Scott’s eyes bulged out, roaring in agony as the sharp scissors pierced deep into his muscles. He jumped back, standing for the briefest second staring in horror at her, before collapsing to his knees. A drowning choked sound gargled his throat and when he pulled the scissors from his neck the jets of blood sprayed across the room.

Libby watched, in shock at what she’d just done, as Scott clutched his neck, choking and bleeding. After a few strangled seconds he collapsed face first on the ground.

“Oh my god… oh my god….” Libby trembled, adrenaline and fear pumping through every cell in her body. She had to get out of there.

Twisting awkwardly around, she held the handcuff steady with her free hand and pulled her other through the tiny gap. The skin ripped from her hand, the metal scraping bone, she yelled out in pain but didn’t stop pulling until her bloodied hand was free.

It was as if she had left her physical body, the pain a dull echo compared to the survival instinct to get out of this basement. “I’m gonna get you outta here…” she panted, putting a gentle hand over the baby’s head between her legs. She scrambled off the bed, legs bowed as she cupped the head, and rushed toward the stairs of the basement.

Libby was careful, her previous encounter with this wooden staircase not ending well, climbing wide legged step after step towards freedom. She barely made it halfway when she was struck by another contraction. Holding the head with one hand and gripping the bannister tight with the other, her body squatted as it tried to push.

“Mnghhhhhhh! Oohhhhhh hang on baby…. Mnghhhhhh…. Not yet.” She could feel herself pushing hard, the shoulders starting to press against her, itching to come out, but with a firm hand and heavy panting she made it through the contraction.

When she reached upstairs she was surprised how familiar it all was, Scott had taken her here once when they were dating. It wasn’t much, the furniture and decor were dated, but it was a nice family holiday home in a nice rural location. She shuddered when she thought of the secret prison that was hidden below her feet.

Being familiar with the property made her escape easier, she knew the layout and of course where he kept the keys - in the side dish by the fridge. Grabbing the car keys Libby headed for the door and threw it open. But the baby didn’t want to wait any longer.

She hung on to the doorframe for dear life as the raging contraction took hold. “No no no!!!! We’re so close mnnnnnghhhhhh!!!!” Her legs widened as she squatted, pushing uncontrollably against the wall of her hand that held the baby’s head. The shoulders were slipping through… she could feel them stretching… “Ohhh fuck!” She cried, desperately pushing and holding the baby in at the same time.

When the near constant contraction let up just the tiniest bit, Libby made a break for it and ran to the car, both hands between her legs cupping the emerging baby. Unlocking the car with the press of the button she threw open the back door and clambered inside. She quickly locked the door, scared that Scott would somehow still be coming after her, and when she heard the reassuring click of the locks she huffed an exhausted cry.

But the baby was coming, and it was coming now. On her hands and knees in the back seat Libby finally gave in to nature and pushed in earnest, grunting long and deep as the shoulders stretched and slipped out. Lifting up onto her knees to catch the infant she released a primal roar with the final push and the baby slipped into her bloodied hands.

“Ohhhhhh hey baby, it’s okay it’s okay. I’ve got you.” Libby cried, pulling the little boy to her chest. Wiping his face clear he gave a little cough and started crying, soon matched with the tears of his mother.

“We did baby, we got out.” Libby panted and cried, safe with her baby inside the locked car. After a few minutes she wrapped the baby up against her chest with the towel, umbilical cord still connecting mother and child, and she hesitantly opened the door and got into the drivers seat. Starting the engine, Libby drove herself and her new baby to safety.

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐭 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐟𝐞𝐝 𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 𓇗

synopsis: stuck in a tent with luocha after he gives you the wrong meds

tags: aphrodisiacs, dom/switch!reader, riding, thigh riding, vulgar, explicit. dubcon(?)

wrd cnt: 1k+

a/n: need luocha in a way that’ll put me in the ward

You huff, your head hitting the pillow underneath you.

“Something wrong?” Your partner asks you.

“No…I just have a headache, it won’t go away” You pout, rubbing your temples.

It was probably your dehydration, or stress, or both.

The two of you were on a mission to get some materials, and camped out overnight before heading to the area.

A small fire illuminated your camp outside which you could see from the small crack you left open in the tent, where you and Luocha sat.

“I have something that can help”.

You sprung up, “Really?”

Of course he did, he was always prepared for anything.

Nodding with a smile, he handed you a small, cream colored vial with small pieces of flora. It smelled like Vanilla.

Luocha noticed the aroma, quickly looking up as you chugged the bottle.

“Wait-“ He said, his hand reaching out to stop you, but he was too late.

You freaked, thinking he gave you poison or something on accident.

“What- WHAT?! Am I gonna die…What did you give me-?!” Frantically, you leaned toward him, begging for answers to soothe your delusions.

He gulped, looking as if he was too embarrassed to tell you what you just drank.

“It won’t kill you. It’s just flat leaved vanilla and rose water.”

Your look of confusion and his avoidance of eye contact didn’t answer much.

“Oh…Then why’d you make a big deal out of it? Do you still have any pain meds?” You ask.

“I do. It’s just that….that concoction you drank is typically used as an…aphrodisiac.” He says too calmly.

You break the silence, hours seemed to have gone by in those long couple of seconds.

“You really believe in that herbal medicine stuff? Pfft- It’s probably just a placebo effect.”

That’s what you had believed. Had.

What you couldn’t believe was the heat that started somehow radiating through your body.

First, you thought it was just the fire burning a little too bright.

Then, you started taking off some clothing.

A jacket, then your sleeves, leaving you in just an undershirt. You felt as if a warm liquid was coating all your organs and expanding all the vessels in your blood.

“Y/n? Are you feeling already?” He asked calmly.

You wipe the small beads of sweat off your forehead, and try to go outside to get some of the cool night air on your skin.

Worried for your wellbeing, Luocha grabs your arm before you leave the tent, “Where are you going? It’s dangerous to go out alone.”

His hand felt like the coolness you needed.

As if you couldn’t hold yourself back, you leaped into him, lips pressed together.

You felt as if your face had been extinguished, as if steam would surface off your lips and burn his.

You grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him deeper, moaning into his mouth. Luocha was taken aback at first, but soon his hands were roaming all over your body, his kiss matching your urgency.

“We- We can't do this here y/n” he managed to say between kisses, trying to pull away but you only reeled him back in.

“We can’t do this here, or at all?,” you whispered, your voice dripping with desire as you grinded your lower half on his thigh, feeling your folds get slippery against him.

“I meant…we shouldn’t”, he says, his eyebrows twitching as your hand starts to palm his cock as you sit on top of him.

“Why not…? No one’s here…no one has to know”. You say against his lips, kissing them again as you feel him get harder under your hand.

“Y/n- But we…” he groans as you start to kiss his neck, leaving love bites all over with your hand in his blonde locks, earning his approval as his hand snakes under your ass and grinds your own hips against him harder.

You decide to take matters into your own hands, or mouth, as you start to kiss your way down his chest and open his pants, freeing his already hard length. Without hesitation, you take him into your mouth and start to suck, feeling him twitch and moan above you.

“Y/n…I can’t…I can’t do this….we need to stop…”. His words are weak and unconvincing as you continue to suck and swirl your tongue around him, feeling him grow even harder.

You pull away and look up at him, “Do you really want to stop?” You ask, your voice sultry and full of lust.

You can see the struggle on his face, but eventually, he gives in and pulls you up to kiss you, his hands roaming all over your body. He quickly strips off the rest of your clothes and does the same.

“Fuck….” He mumbles under his breath, your naked body splayed open over him, all the consequences seemed to drift away as soon as he leaned back, elbows on the hard tent surface as he watches you slide your cunt along his shaft, getting your slick all over his pre-cum leaking cock before sinking down slowly.

As he entered you, you both gasp in pleasure, the concoction working its magic as you both move together in a rhythm that leaves you both huffing and moaning each other's names.

His hands grip your hips, guiding you up and down at a steady pace as you lean down to kiss him, tongues swirling in a passionate dance.

“You feel so good…so warm,” he whispers against your lips, his breath hot against your skin. You smirk and quicken your pace, feeling his cock hit the perfect spot inside you.

“Do you like that?” You say, knowing he can't resist your teasing ways.

He growls in response, flipping you over so you're under him, his hands gripping your wrists and pinning them above your head. “You know I do” He spouts against your ear. You moan in pleasure and submission, your body tingling with pleasure at his words and display of power.

He begins to move faster, his hips slamming into yours, sending you both into a frenzy of ecstasy with his mouth latched onto your nipple, every feeling more intense now. Your moans and cries only encourage him, knowing he's driving you closer and closer to the edge. His pace made it seem as if he was the one to drink front the vial.

“Come for me,” he whispers in your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. And with those words, you both reach your climax, the pleasure coursing through your bodies and overwhelming your senses. You collapse in a sweaty and satisfied heap, panting and trying to catch your breath after squirting all over his cock.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[lovelyo]

Season 3 part 2 will be Ass. Let me Tell You Why.

Cause in the end, Penelope, Lady Whistledown, the one who has left devastation in people’s lives will get all what she wants. The man that she wants, the attention that she wants, the family she always wanted to be(so envious of them she talked shit about them ), will get her best friend back, might have the heir for that dumbass Featherington plot line, might get the Queen’s pardon and above all else, will most likely not give up LW cause they made LW such an integral part of the show.(so in that case, she’ll be even more filthy rich)

And if we go by leaked spoilers, it is said that Colin will be mad at Penelope for like 1 episode until Kanthony talks some “sense” into him. So that just tells me Kanthony will be OOC because there’s no damn way Anthony would let that beast comment about his wife slide.

There are no stakes when it comes to this season cause we all know how it’s finna go down. If Penelope gets any type of consequences, then her very undeserved HEA is doomed so everything is going to have to go her way for the already idiotic plot to make some form of sense. It’s like the love triangle in part 1, what the hell was the point of Lord Debling when everyone and their ancestors knew Colin and Penelope were end game? So we can see Colin’s cringe angst? If we already know the answer to the love triangle, there’s no point. The “find you a husband” plot line was stupid as shit anyway, but it’s whatever now.

Ugh, then we have to sit through more awkward love scenes between asshat 1 and 2

Eloise threatening Penelope with her LW identity is going to amount to nothing cause we know Penelope isn’t gonna receive any comeuppance. Matter of fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if they made Eloise apologize to Penelope for…🤷🏾‍♂️🤷(let’s apologize to the toxic friend for not dealing with their toxicity)

For Penelope to have a happy ending, she has to get away scot free and that’s what boils my blood. I hate in media and literature when a character goes around, creates chaos and receives nothing for it or just a slap on a wrist. I’ve noticed an increase in it lately too. Also, I’m tired of writers not severing their bias from their writing. I’ve been encountering many series lately where the writer(s) have favoritism towards a specific character and gives them the easy route, bends the world for them and pull punches just because they like them so much. It’s really aggravating cause you see everyone else getting put through the wringer and then you see the favored character walking through Candyland. It hurts the story, the character, and frankly makes you hate the character.

Everyone around Penelope is gonna act brain dead in order for Penelope to get what she wants and I’m not here for it. Even the general audience ain’t for it. The only people cheering this madness are the asylum patients called Polin fans with delusions that Penelope deserves the world.

I’m not even looking forward to Francesca and John’s story cause of the Poolin fecal matter I’ll have to swim through to get there. At this point, I’m might just watch spoilers of part 2 cause it’s not worth it.

P.S. Watch Cressida get the short end of the stick cause she’s the “bully” of the show and Penelope is the “victim”. Watch them break Creloise because of the “I don’t want you hanging around Eloise” subplot which will ultimately fuel Eloise and Penelope becoming friends again. Also, Penelope and Cressida competed for Lord Debling just for Penelope to go “sike” and marry Colin so she wasted Debling’s time and made Cressida feel like shit because she wasn’t chosen. P.S.S- Polins are huge ass hypocrites cause they ragged on Eloise being privileged and having “everything” but are silent about Penelope being privileged. By the end of this season, Penelope will basically have everything, even more so than Eloise, but sure, Penelope is definitely not privileged 😑. Penelope is privileged inside the world and outside by production, why are we denying this?

[late-draft]

Something interesting, I ran into an innocent comment that was something like, "Katara healing Zuko's scar would have been the final element that pushes Zuko to join the Gaang" and I don't think this is true!

Switching sides and joining the Gaang wasn't even on Zuko's mind for most of the show. It did flash briefly through his head as a shocking idea when Aang had asked him if things could have been different, back at the Blue Spirit rescue. But he chased that idea away as quickly as it appeared because the only reason he would have entertained it would have been to have friends. Everything else in the situation is adamantly opposing the idea, from the sides of the war to the very point of goals of each group. Aang was on his way to mess up the plans of the Fire Lord, Zuko's father whom he believed, at that point in the story, he owed complete loyalty to. So there is no dilemma.

Only after rejecting Ozai, letting go of an (understandable) delusion that he could ever receive love and affirmation from him, breaking free of the Fire Nation's propaganda and rejecting the Fire Nation's conquest and cruelty, does Zuko arrive to the question of "what now". Only after this is he able to see that he has a clear option of switching sides. This is satisfying because Zuko isn't switching to the Good Guys side chasing a carrot on a stick, instead it's because he's finally freeing himself of shackles and following his internal moral compass.

Even though he doesn't exactly know what side Iroh is on, he wants to be on it, but he at least knows his uncle is against the Fire Nation. And then he goes and confronts Ozai. (Here's a moment in the narrative of the show that I feel wasn't explored enough - I think there should have been more discussions among characters what Iroh is doing, whose side is he on, what does he support and what does he believe in, especially from Zuko because when the Order of the White Lotus is revealed, it's just glossed over. This plot thread is frayed.)

While it is the writer's job to get Zuko's character to join the Gaang, this has to happen exclusively due to in-world events and character choices, otherwise it would be bad writing.

In a way, the writer's story has to be the consequence of in-world character choices and actions, even if this sounds strange at first!

~

So back to the first statement; what is happening in the scene in the catacombs of Ba Sing Se then? To me it's clear the only thing running through Zuko's head at the moment is "Katara Katara Katara Katara..."

And then she runs and hugs Aang.

And then she leaves.

It's very evident that in-universe, this tension is never released and the event never resolved or talked about. First cut short by Aang's appearance, and then made worse by Azula's ultimatum.

That is, until the famous hug on the pier.

[noosayog]

wc: 700

warnings/content: non-con? (sfw)

part 7. directory here.

--

A while ago, you and Atsumu had made plans to celebrate the end of finals week by taking a trip to a nearby town for the weekend. With the events from last night looming above you, that obviously isn’t happening so you pack your things and sneak out to make the earliest train to your hometown to escape potential confrontation. 

There was a part of you that had hoped that Atsumu had camped outside your door the entire night to catch you and desperately apologize and beg you to stay. Shame burned at your cheeks when you scanned the entire hallway and found it empty and clear as it is any normal day. 

With that, you speed off to the station before you can embarrass yourself any further. 

–

The break at home is welcome. Not to say that you’re not still utterly heart-broken, but the reprieve from Atsumu is much needed, however short. You steel yourself for the inevitable encounter as you return to your apartment a week later, making sure to wipe any delusions of Atsumu waiting for you from your mind. Anticlimactically, you survive the short trek from your building entrance to your door in peace.

It’s much later, when you’re leaving for your first class of the semester that it finally happens. By now, you’ve had plenty of time to run all the possible scenarios and plan your respective responses. Predictably, he marches straight up to you when your eyes meet. You immediately move to avoid him but you must be equally predictable to him because he grabs hold of your wrist before you can put any more distance between you two. 

“Where have you been,” he breathes. 

Yep, you had thought through this scenario. This is manageable. 

“Away from you,” you return evenly, trying to twist out of his grip. 

He sucks in a breath at that, like you had just punched him in the gut. Not a bad idea.

“Baby-”

Pet names were scenario C of your imagination. Nothing you can’t handle. 

“Don’t call me that,” you say, still trying to writhe away. 

He tightens his hold and pulls you that much closer. This makes you stiffen up. You had thought of the physical contact route, but had no countermoves for his brute strength. 

“Let go,” you seethe. 

“Not until you let me apologize.” 

“You can apologize all you want. I won’t accept anything, and nothing is going to change,” you recite your practiced lines. 

Atsumu seems to be figuring out what is and isn’t working, and words aren’t, so he focuses his efforts on keeping his hands on you. 

“What can I do, then?” 

“Nothing,” you answer. “We were nothing anyway, so you don’t have to act like you owe me anything.” 

You know you’re being cruel. But you just want to hurt him, make him feel what you felt. 

It works because he clenches his teeth, jaw tightening. 

“You know that’s not true.” 

“Who cares if it isn’t? You clearly didn’t.” 

He groans in frustration. “Why can’t you just- and why are you so-” 

He’s talking in a frenzy, a mix of unfinished thoughts and voice raising in volume. 

You’ve practiced a line that would end all this uncertainty. You’re late to class, you rationalize. This has to end so you can move on, you convince yourself. 

Deep breath in. 

“Miya,” you cut him off authoritatively. “There’s one thing you can do.” 

His eyes widen; he thinks you’re throwing him a bone. 

“Fuck off and stay away from me. I don’t want anything to do with you and nothing would make me happier than if I never saw you again.” 

Shaky deep breath out. It’s fine, you’re fine, it doesn’t hurt. You’re imagining it. Your vision is blurring a little but you keep repeating it. It’s fine. You’re fine. It doesn’t hurt. 

His grip on you releases, his hand dropping down at his side limply. It’s all going perfectly according to the scenarios you had run in your head. The tears in your eyes were not planned, but you’re fine. It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt. 

The damage is done and you think you’re free to go, so you turn to make your way to class and leave him behind.

That’s when you’re yanked backwards, one arm winding all the way around your waist and another palm sliding under your chin. And suddenly, his lips are on yours.

[imagineredwood]

EZ for D pls 🥺

D is for...Delusion 1. "This hurts me more than it hurts you." 3. "Why are you running? I did this for you!"

**Dark EZ as you can tell by the prompts. Pretty OOC but its for the plot just be delulu with me. Also, this gif of EZ has always had such dark energy to me so it fits perfect. I left out 2. because it just didn't fit the vibe to me.**

Warnings: Breaking and entering mentioned, kidnapping, confinment+bondage, gaslighting

Pairing: Fresh out of prison, Dark!EZ x naive!reader

EZ was sweet.

At least you thought so.

He was still trying to get used to being free. Get used to not being controlled. Prison allowed him to create a regimen. Form discipline. But it also kept him in line.

He had to follow orders, be it those of the guards or the gang he found himself aligned with.

He had to stay focused and do as he was told, and that kept him straight for the most part.

But now that he was out, this newfound freedom and ability to do as he pleased proved to be...both exhilarating and terrifying. On the one hand he enjoyed the freedom, but on the other, he felt the intense need to belong to something again.

Or have something belong to him.

And that was where you had come in.

A sweet little innocent thing that saw the good in absolutely everyone. Even him.

Especially him.

You had taken pity on him. Felt sorry that he had lost his future. Lost his high school sweetheart and his child later on. Lost that bright light. So you had decided to be a friend, and that was all it took for him to realize you were the one that he needed to belong to him. Something Someone that would be all his. That would never leave. Never trade him in. Never abandon him. He wouldn't let you.

That was how you had ended up here.

In his basement.

It was a nice basement, not one of the scary decrepit ones you always see in movies.

He would never put his precious girl in a shitty, dingy basement.

No, it was nice and clean with a bed for you. Sheets in your favorite color. Blankets and pillows. A mini fridge for you to eat and drink at your discretion. Sure the walls were concrete, but the night he had broken into your home and taken you, he had also gone back and gotten all of your pictures and decor. Then he put them up for you, so it felt more like home. He allowed you to walk around freely during the day.

But at night the shackle went back on, no matter what. He couldn't risk you escaping. And now was that time.

You hugged your knees as close to your body as you could, watching him as he walked closer and closer. He sat down beside you at the foot of the bed, eyes sympathetic but still stern. He patted his thigh and you knew exactly what he wanted, but you kept your legs just as they were.

"Maybe I can sleep without it tonight? I've been good. I'm not going anywhere."

EZ nodded and tapped the metal shackle.

"I know. This makes sure of that."

You gulped and continued to stare at him.

"It's just hard for me to feel at home when you always lock me up like this."

He thought it over and was distracted long enough for you to catch him slipping. The kick to the side of his head was full of as much force as you could muster. He saw stars, shaking his head to gather himself while you took off sprinting towards the stairs. You dashed up the entire way, the door coming into view closer and closer until you finally reached it and grabbed the handle, turning it quickly.

And finding it locked.

You stood there at the top of the stairs and turned slowly, just in time to see him come to stand at the bottom of them. His eyes were black as they looked up at you, hands clenching at his sides.

"Why are you running? I did this for you!"

You whimpered and stood frozen, watching as he came to stand on the first stair.

"I've done all of this for you. You don't have to work. You want for nothing. You have everything you need. And this is how you repay me?"

Suddenly he was running, taking the stairs three at a time and before you knew it he was right there, toe to toe, hand holding a cloth over your mouth and nose, his face nuzzling into the side of your neck as he cooed at you, voice laced with sorrow that you still hadn't come to accept that you were now his forever.

"Shhhhh. It's ok. This hurts me more than it hurts you."

Dark fiction taglist 

@whitetxilwxlf @kikijackson-blog @ben-c-group-therapy @ravennaortiz @mama-mischief @flowercrowns-goodvibes @shellofashadow @pekusofixus

[super-paper]

I still don’t understand AFO. Why is he like this. This series repeatedly goes out of it’s way to humanize the villains but AFO is still just evil because he wants to be the demon lord and I don’t get it.

That would be the point, I feel-- AFO doesn't want to be understood or seen as "human." He wants to completely lose himself in character, wants other people to mindlessly play along with the story he's written for himself like good little extras, and wants everyone around him to acknowledge what a ~perfectly inhuman demon lord~ he is-- and he's bent the entire narrative of MHA around himself like a shield in order to accomplish that. Like, the idea of people breaking the same black and white narrative that he's been using to protect himself (and trap others) quite literally drives him insane:

"That murderer--" "You killer--" oooooo you're so mad that human nature is basically good, that people are endlessly capable of growth and healing, and that actual human beings can't simply be shoved into teeny black and white fictional boxes ooooo all the more evidence that he's gonna completely lose his shit when Tomura ultimately refuses to kill Izuku lmao

I wanna point out his speech bubbles in the second image, bc Hori frequently uses speech bubbles to emphasize a character's mental state-- Like.... Bro is literally coming apart at the seams with rage that Stain is trying to be anything more than a starter villain. 😭The english translation also kind of sort of makes it seem like AFO is simply referring to Stain by his moniker (Hero Killer), but the term he uses in the original text feels a little more... loaded, imho?? The kanji used for Stain's "Hero Killer" Moniker is "Goroshi" ("殺ごろし"), but here, AFO instead refers to him as a "Murderer" (殺人犯/satsujin-han). Calling Stain an out-and-out murderer instead of calling him by a villain moniker feels a lot more specific, a lot more pointed, and it also tells us a lot more about AFO’s fucked up sense of values.

Anyway, I've said this before, but AFO is a character who reads heavily as an escapist fantasy gone horrifically wrong. "Why is a world where villains are allowed to climb back up from rock bottom and heal so intolerable to AFO?" "why does the idea of people breaking free from their roles make AFO so angry?" "why is AFO literally trying to BECOME a comic book character?" are better questions to ask than "why is bro just evil for the sake of it," I feel. Like obviously, a world where the label of "villain" gets thoroughly and utterly dismantled is one where AFO loses his power over others.... but it's also a world that rips that protective layer of "fiction" away from him, exposes his own humanity, and destroys that delusion of becoming the "perfect villain king" that he's wrapped himself up in.

tfw you LARP so hard that it ends up getting your brother killed and now breaking character means you gotta Process All Of That .................................................... Unless...? :)

What I find especially interesting about AFO is that MHA's narrative actually cooperates with shielding him from the readers, to a degree-- scenes that depict rare moments of genuine emotion are overlaid with contrary, cartoonishly evil narration that's meant to distract the reader from what's actually being depicted. The bulk of the series depicts his face being hidden in shadows even though it *literally* has no reason to be, and we don't get an unobscured look until the other characters finally start rallying together to reject his story. He is literally introduced to the series through a TV screen, which MHA has been using as a shorthand for its depiction of fantasy since day one:

In my opinion, I feel the final act of "rejection" that AFO fears isn't from his brother, or his followers, or "his other self"-- what he fears is the story itself rejecting him and finally exposing him for what he is: an utterly mundane human. Like, a total freak of a guy to be sure, but still totally human. The narrative revoking its various "protections" and working against AFO to humanize him acts as the final insult to everything he claims to believe in while doubling as the last bit of confirmation that he was never gonna become a "perfect demon lord." MHA being what it is, this is something inevitable.

Where other characters in this series draw strength from their origin-- the moment that defines them as a human and individual-- AFO likely fears and rejects his own origin for this same reason.

Anyway. I would describe AFO as a wannabe-author who refuses to make public appearances or divulge details about his personal life, but ultimately reveals a little too much about himself through the "stories" and "characters" he tries to write-- so ppl still know he's a freak with issues by virtue of how fatherless his content is. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Putting together all the pieces of himself that AFO accidentally lets slip is part of what makes MHA so fun (to me, at least!).

[princelylove]

Oh I happened to choose all characters from part 3? I'm sure have something for muscular dominant men 🫢

May I ask for Polnareff and Avdol with their darling's first time too?

I love your headcanon for Jotaro, I find it quite cute for him to not know much about sex and awkward with it. And he has virgin kink, very interesting. Do you think he has other kink too?

Feel free to share about other characters you want to write too, I just love reading your work, your highness ❤️

~ 🏵️ anon ~

For future reference, I spell Avdol as “Abdul,” since it makes more sense in Arabic. There’s no v sound, but there is a b and f sound. 

These two are both romantics when it comes to sex. Except one is out of genuine respect, and the other is out of delusion. 

Mohammed isn’t bothered by your past. It was before you met him, how could he hold that against you? Your experience, or lack of experience, isn’t any of his business. Sex is something intimate to Mohammed- he was younger once, he’s not without a past, but he doesn’t really want something casual with his darling. He’s rather vanilla when it comes to sex, but he’s willing to humor his darling’s requests, as long as they don’t expect to dominate him, or top him. He just doesn’t prefer it, don’t take it personally. Mohammed asks his darling what their sexual expectations of him are now that you’re together. He wants a proper answer, do you want it often, do you not want it at all, do you want it weekly on the dot, do you have anything specific you’d like to incorporate, etc. He’s already forcing you to live with him, he’s not going to ruin his chances of his darling developing stockholm syndrome by forcing them to do something they don’t want, or aren’t going to enjoy. Slow and steady wins the race. 

Jean-Pierre will never, under any circumstances, force his darling to have sex with him. Is he fine with it being dubious…? A little. Depends on his mood. Does he realize that holding you down and repeating how much he loves you and how much he wants to touch you is forcing you? Nope! To him, it’s all sweet talk. And if you cry, or scream, or kick, he’s just going to assume it’s your way of introducing him to some sort of kink you have. Ohh, he’s the big bad man, coming to eaaat youuu, hm-hm-hm. You’re a pretty good actor, you were making him nervous there! Jean-Pierre has opened up to you about his past- it was traumatizing to not be there for his sister when she was murdered. It makes him think of the torture Sherry went through before she died, and to be honest, he’d rather not have to stop pounding you because of a panic attack. It doesn’t look good for his suave, charismatic presentation. It stresses him out to think that he isn’t your protector, so let’s not do this kind of play often, alright? Only as a little treat when you’ve been good. He isn’t too thrilled about his darling trying to top him, but honestly, he’s down to switch if you really want to. He’s often loud when he bottoms- be prepared to hear him practically screaming your name and every lovey pet name he can think of in french, alongside begging you to keep going. He won’t mention it the next morning. 

As far as Jotaro’s fetishes and kinks… I put him in the same category as a recluse mama’s boy who learned what relationships should be like from his mother + old romance movies. Creep. His primary focal point is how “delicate” and “helpless” you are- it makes him feel needed, and therefore loved. Regardless of your actual strength and durability, Jotaro is forever convinced that you’re constantly on the verge of breaking. As for some specifics, besides from his virginity kink:

Praise. This man goes crazy for some genuine praise. Even if you say it more like an observation, if it can be taken as a compliment, he’s fighting his body’s reaction. “You’re very tall.” is more of a statement than anything else, but being tall is attractive to most people, yeah? So you like his height… He never slouches in your presence after that. Jotaro’s delusions aside, if you were to praise him during sex, he’d lose himself entirely. 

Breeding. Even if his darling cannot get pregnant, a man can dream. It isn’t about having an actual child, he just thinks it’s hot to finish inside of you and how fantastic you’d look pregnant. You’d have trouble doing things for yourself, won’t you? Jotaro isn’t about to complain about finding a way to force you to let him do everything for you. Maybe he can tell you to just pretend to be pregnant…

Somnophilia. You just look so sweet and innocent while you’re sleeping, he can’t really help it. Jotaro touches himself quietly- as to not disturb you, he’s worked hard to get you to actually relax enough to sleep- next to your ‘shared’ bed. He likes to think of it as belonging to both of you, but it really doesn't.

[ohanny]

so fun fact, i've been feeling like crap and spiked a fever and literally dreamt this so from my actual delusions to you...

give kim something to do and get these three fraternizing:

basically, there was a deleted scene where pete hears about kim roaming free and he's like “oh, how did he escape?” and his henchmen informants (or way) are like “he didn't, rumour has it kenta let him go” and pete is like “... interesting.” because kenta serves tony’s interests. kenta doesn't disobey. kenta does not argue, ever. so the fact that he even at bare minimum dared to start giving tony suggestions on what to do? mmh.

so pete calls kim like “hey, we gotta talk? like i need to know what you said or did to kenta to make him let you go. come over, boo, let's chat” and let's be real, it's not like kim has anything better to do so he's like “sure” and arrives to the scene (which in my head took place in pete’s office, shh) just as kenta is about to kebab skewer pete.

and kim is like “KENTA NO!” using the same voice i use when i see my dog have something she definitely should not have in her mouth. and he grabs kenta’s shoulder and shoves him back and kenta just… goes. and pete is like “... interesting.”

kenta has scampered up and points the knife at kim, asking him to just “please leave, this has nothing to do with you, you got out so just GO!” but kimberly of justice is like “nah, kenta, we can't just shish kebab people” and starts walking towards kenta, pissed off, all “huh, whatcha gonna do? stab me too?” and the second his chest is about to touch the knife kenta yanks his arm back because yeah, no way is his knife getting anywhere close to hurting kim as seen before. and pete just lays there like “.... INTERESTING INTENSIFIED”

kim squares up with kenta going “you know what, you can stab pete if you want to but you have to go through me first.” and kenta is already at the breaking point and he keeps saying “please” as if he repeats it enough, kim will just step aside but no. kim is all “you helped me so let me help you” and kenta is all “i don't -” and kim rolls his eyes like “yeah, you really don't deserve it right now, look at you, but you can change. you can do better. you can earn it. you're nothing to tony. aren't you tired of just being his tool? don't you want to be a person again?”

kenta lets out this strangled scream of “i don't know how!” and kim is like “for starters you're gonna give me that knife and sit the fuck down so we can talk instead of stabbing each other” and pete - who in the midst of being INTERESTED has slowly inched his way back up to his feet - says “i'm sorry i didn't do more for you then. i should've just knocked you out and dragged you out with me but let me do it right this time.”

and when kenta turns to look at pete, kim grabs his wrist and twists the knife out of his grasp and as the knife falls, it's like all of kenta’s strings have been cut. kim catches him, saying “it's okay, i got you” and kenta basically just blue screens and passes out and then kim is like “oof, pete? little help here?” and then pete sweeps kenta up from kim’s arms and lays him down on the couch so kim can fuss over him, put a pillow under his head and straighten his clothes.

pete’s looks at kim all “yeah, that's why i wanted to talk to you. what did you do to him?” and kim huffs, offended, with a flip of his perfect fluffy fringe, “absolutely nothing. who do you think i am? i'm not part of your freaky little super squad.” and pete is like INTERESTING.

[animeyanderelover]

I tried to think of ways how a noble Marleyan darling would work for some characters here and came up more or less with the conclusion that darling has to be more on a rebellious side and sneak their way into the island since they want to try to stop this upcoming war.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, manipulation, sabotage, paranoia, delusions, abduction

Noble Marleyan darling

Eren Yeager

👊 Eren most likely meets his s/o during the time where he infiltrates Marley as Eren Kruger. His darling has to be different from the rest though and has to be someone who is more around him. Let's assume that, despite your noble status, you mingle willingly under the Eldian and even help the hospital with your financial power. It's bound to surprise him a bit since your kind hates his. Obviously he is warily at the beginning since he suspects that you have ulterior motives. He feels a twinge of flaring anger when he realizes that you managed to invade his heart with your kindness and your attempts to understand Eldians better. He's colder to you and glares at you in his last try to find the ugly side who despises his kind and wants them dead. He fails though and that's the point where Eren just accepts it and embraces his obsession. He's selfish, doesn't want you to die during the upcoming attack and manipulates Zeke into making sure that you're captured before the attack starts.

👊 Eren ends up lying about the reason why you're kept here for now, instead convinces the others that you're from a family with high position and that you're a good way to blackmail them a bit. The Yeagerists are ordered to free you from your cell and transport you to a new location, not to long before Eren breaks free himself. He knows that you're going to hate him since he's the one who launched the attack on your country and killed innocent bystanders. Not to mention the inevitable feeling of betrayal when you discover who the wounded soldier in Marley really was. Your pleas fall on deaf ears though as Eren prioritizes your safety and the guarantee that you stay with him over your own emotions and feelings. He knows that he's obsessed and he knows that he's selfish and cruel but he can't let you leave. He at least protects you from the hatred of the others, threatens them to not harm you in any way. He blames you partially for the situation, you triggered such strong emotions inside of him.

Armin Arlert

🐚 Together with Pieck, Porco and the army of the Marleyans after Eren has set his plan in motion comes you, a Marleyan from a noble family who stubbornly insisted to come along and even sneaked your way in. Your status leaves Pieck and the others no other choice but to protect you even if you insist on being fine by yourself. The whole situation is bullshit for you, everything could have been avoided if everyone would have just tried to understand the other yet here you are. Your mindset is astonishing and whilst you harbor a grudge against Eren and the others for attacking your town, you also believe that you don't have much right to complain since your country has caused them suffering too. You're curious, interested but also prideful and bold, all things that cause Armin to be slightly flustered. He appreciates you though since it shows that there are people from Marley who don't view his people plainly as a devil. You view him as an equal and given your position, he feels weirdly honored.

🐚 You become a precious comrade with time as you fight with him and the others in order to stop Eren from killing everyone except the people on Paradise Island. Whilst you don't have as much talent nor experience, your high position already helps to make other Marleyans cooperate since they can't shoot you. You run with them, you bleed with them and you cry with them when everything is over and for a short time it's like everyone forgets from where you are, Armin included. Maybe that's why he allows himself to fall in love with you. Armin is slightly insecure since you are noble and become some sort of advisor for Marley later on whilst he is ordinary and whilst you never judge based on that, this lingering insecurity stays with him. At first he shys away, at one point he becomes more possessive though, more manipulative. He insists that you should stay more on Paradise Island or he himself tries to travel more often to you for negotiations between your nations.

Levi Ackerman

⚔️ You find your way into Paradise Island by posing as a soldier and soon sneak your way out. You don't have any plan but hope to talk with Zeke and Eren to have this madness stop before it escalates in death and sorrow for everyone. Instead you stumble into the forest where you meet one of the soldiers with a wounded comrade. Their names are Hange and Levi as you find out shortly after having convinced Hange that you haven't come to attack them. You throw away all your weapons as a sign and beg them to take them with you since you haven't thought things enough through and for that are here with no plans. When you reveal your status, they seem convinced enough that they can use you as a bait when things go hard. Your position comes indeed useful since Pieck and Theo Magath are left with no choice but cooperate with Hange since you insist to stay and help. The first thing Levi sees upon opening his eyes is you since you've been watching out for him a bit.

⚔️ He's harsh but you decide to endure since your nation put him through hell and there is no time for a conflict between the people here. You do as much as you can with your influence and money since you can't really fight, things you tell him. You don't know why, you guess possible death makes you bond faster with the people you're probably going to die with. Nobody wants to die alone. He has a shell around him but he realize that you're genuine and allows himself to be a bit more open around him. You stick around until the end and don't leave even after everything is over. Instead you even pay for his treatment so his injuries won't restrict him too much, something he only accepts after an equally stubborn argument from both of you. You both spend so much time together, it's almost natural that he ends up loving you as the gorgeous nuisance you are. He's pessimistic about love, doesn't know if he can protect you in his state but is also too afraid and possessive to let you leave him. Levi has lost too much, he doesn't want you to leave him too.

Reiner Braun

🟤 He's known you since he started training to inherit a Titan and that is mainly because of your interest in Titans and the chosen ones to bear this burden. Everyone is yelled at to respect you and do everything you wish for when you're allowed to visit and he's seen how people who disrespect you were beaten up. Surprisingly you don't look happy when you see that and have even told the soldiers to stop. You're cheerful and kind because of your carefree way of living but also are sincerely curious about him and the others. Reiner seems especially interesting to you so you always try to spend some time alone with him without being supervised. You bring him things he usually wouldn't be able to obtain and even if you sometimes say things that hurt him due to not knowing fully about his situation, you never hate him. At one point he can't help but fall in love with you, grow a bit obsessed with you. He promises to come back from his mission successful.

🟤 You're his motivation, at one point literally the only thing driving him as Reiner grows mentally very unstable. When he returns to Marley, he is a changed man who guesses that by now you might have forgotten him yet clings onto the tiniest bit of hope. He's grown though and has by now realized that his childish dreams of being with you most likely won't happen. He couldn't keep his promise either and avoids you shamefully even if his heart screams at him to see you again. A meltdown is bound to happen and it's most likely when you finally manage to catch him again. He's in awe for a while since you've grown so beautifully yet he starts crying since he stands in front of you, the only one from the four little soldiers who were sent away years ago. Your presence is soothing and Reiner grows frantic if he doesn't see or hear from you at least once a day. Hiding his love doesn't work as he simply can't control himself and his growing affection. Reiner just wants you to desperately love him too.

Zeke Yeager

🚬 Zeke is quite interested in you which makes the feeling mutual since you’re curious too, though both of you have different reasons. You know his story and that he doomed his own parents and he knows that you, despite being a noble Marleyan, share a heart for the Eldian people. He plays with the thought that he might use you for his plans at one point but for now hides his intentions. At this point he’s some sort of veteran who receives a slice of trust so chances are good that you two can converse without much people interfering. That way he gets to know you better and discovers that you’re very pleasant. You’re educated and smart, prideful but also willing to admit when you were in the wrong and Zeke respects your admirable personality. If just all people were like you. At one point he decides to not use you as you’ve grown on him too much and he doesn’t want to disrespect you like this. Spending time with you is nice and he’d like to keep it up until Eren and him set their plan into motion.

🚬When Zeke catches onto his growing infatuation, his mind is thrown a bit off together with his carefully structured plan yet it only lasts a few moments before he gets a grip on himself. In retrospect it isn’t all that surprising that he fell in love with you, you two are close acquaintances and he sees your charm. So whilst there is no anger, he is a lot more thoughtful as he thinks about what he should do with you. He doesn’t want to let you die under all means necessary but doesn’t have time to look after you as soon as he lets himself get caught by the people from Paradise Island. He tasks Yelena to look out for you as soon as everything starts. He starts preparing beforehand too whilst he is still with you. He will make sure that on that day you won’t be in the center of the attack. He sees this all as a good chance though because under normal circumstances he would never be allowed to have you as his partner so everything seems to fall nicely into his hands, that’s what he thinks. He’ll succeed in his plan and will have you too.

Porco Galliard

🌫️Porco doesn’t think too much of you at first, you’re just a snob who has had everything since birth. Yet he knows that it would be unwise to be rude to you so he bites his tongue and acts as respectful as he can around you. You’re weirdly kind and it repulses him a bit since he doesn’t believe your kindness to be real. Most Marleyans don’t care for Eldians as more than weapons that have to be tamed and controlled. He doesn’t buy the bullshit that you try to understand his kind a bit better and respect them since they battle for your country, that you want to try to help the Eldians in Marley so they can have a better life. He only admits it to Pieck and Zeke that he believes that you’re only trying to play the saint here. Pieck objects, likes to think that you’re real with your act and Zeke also admits that you don’t seem like the type who’d pretend to care only to stab them in their back later on. Porco doesn’t want to believe them, a part of him trusts in their observation skills though so he can’t help but analyze you more the next time he sees you.

🌫️He doesn’t even know how the hell this happened, when exactly he was so careless to let romantic feelings slip inside his heart. Yet here he is with a beating heart whenever you greet him and manage to talk with him for a bit. Porco feels almost a bit humiliated and ends up avoiding you as good as he can. He has to rid himself of his feelings or otherwise he’ll have a huge problem. You’re from a rich and noble family, you have security with you and no one would ever allow an Eldian as your partner, not even a honorary Eldian. He pretends like he has confidence in his feelings only being a small crush yet he knows that this isn’t true. This is forbidden and yet he longs for you. He can’t even tell anyone about his problem since he doesn’t trust them to keep it a secret. He puts on a facade but Zeke might see through him at one point and eventually approach him. Porco denies his statement yet also threatens him to not tell anyone. Chances are that Zeke will try to get Porco on his side by offering him the chance to be with you.

[mellowwillowy]

- Specimen Girl -

Yan!Dottore×Fem Reader

Dead Dove : Do Not Eat

Yes, it's all based off the lyrics to Specimen Girl's song lol. Also I aint a medical student so let's just pretend what Dottore does is scientifically true lol

Gore description (maybe), delusional Dottore, reader got kidnapped and 'operated' by Dottore (eyes gouged, arms and legs numbed down), necrophilia but you can almost ignore it if you stick with Dottore's delusions, cannibalism (eating your heart), suicide (you and Dottore)

some comfort: Sandrone tried to avenge you but Dottore said bye-bye first lol (don't worry she'll dishonor Dottore's death with Columbina for you instead). I've also toned down lots of things and scenes so yeah, I've warned you so don't come at me

Will mention reader's past a bit near the end of the story.

Word Counts 4.1k

01・Let’s gouge out your eyes

00・that way, you won’t look at anyone else

Dottore's finger dances on your face, his thumb slowly caressing the skin around your left eye. You try to break free from your restraint but fail nonetheless. Bruises formed on both your wrist and ankle, burning from the friction of the restraints whenever you struggle. Your eyes dilate in fear and pain as Dottore presses his scalpel on your lower eyelid.

"Say, Senior, why did you stare at that bastard so lovingly?"

He presses the blade even deeper now, drawing out blood from the cut. You scream from the burning sensation, writhing under his restraint which earns a chiding from Dottore.

"Ah ah ah. If you won't stop wriggling, the operation will not be neat anymore" he chides you as he brings his palm to your tear-stained cheek, blowing wind to your eyes as though he's mocking your pitiful state.

"W-why, wh-why me? Lo-lord Ha-Ha-Harb-Harbinger, I-I have ne-never even o-once shown a-any-"

Dottore shushes you down. He knows what you were trying to say. That you have been nothing but a good citizen. That you have never even once disregarded Tsaritsa nor opposed her rule.

"Like I said earlier, this," Dottore presses the scalpel inside your eye socket, cutting down the nerves of your eyes as you scream in pain "is only your punishment because you've been giving your attention to someone that's not me"

Each second feels like you are being skinned alive, flapping like how a fish would be on the ground. Dottore slowly circles the scalpel around your eyeball, cutting every nerves it can find. Your left eye has already lost its sight the moment the blade cuts one of the nerves, blood flowing out like a waterfall.

"Aw! Don't leave me just yet! What's the point of this punishment if you are not here with me?" Dottore bites your lip, drawing out blood from it. You can feel the steel taste of it and it makes you feel sick. Your stomach can't even tie any knots anymore at this rate.

Dottore humms down a tune as though he is trying to calm you down. It's the tune you used to hum during your study in ʏɿoƚimɿob and almost everyone knows that it's your little song that you'll use to ease people down.

And not for a maniac humming it.

Dottore pulls out your left eyeball easily, observing it closely before he kisses it and shoves it for you to see. Better remember how it looks like before you can no longer see anymore right?

"Go on, observe how beautiful your eye is Senior. Oh? Maybe you should also..." Dottore places your eyeball right next to his beautiful ruby eyes "remember how your Junior's eyes look like" Dottore grins maniacally.

Without being said, you've long memorized your captor's appearance. Ruby eyes, teal hair, and visible sharp pointed teeth whenever he talks or grins.

And how red his tongue is as he licks your eyeball.

Time's up and all you see next is how Dottore places your eyeball into a container with fluids in it. Probably to preserve your eyeball. And what about the other jars? Oh god no. Why did you think about the other jar when you were trying to-

"I won't allow you to avert your thoughts away, Senior" Dottore kisses your right eye, slightly licking it as though your eyes are nothing but sweet candies for him. Again, the scalpel comes into sight and

"So please bear with it, Senior ♡"

The last thing you tried to focus on was his pointed teeth that were revealed as he grinned.

You scream atop of your lungs and drowned into oblivion after that.

04・Let’s cut off your hands and feet

00・that way, you won’t touch anyone else

You might not be able to see anymore but even you can make out where you are right now. A bed. You can feel something tight wrapping around your eyes. Bringing your shaky hands toward your eyes, you can feel just how empty your eye sockets are now.

It hurts.

You cry out but what comes out was not crystal clear tears but instead, blood.

Why must you feel this pain again even in this world?

What had you done wrong to him? You knew he was a harbinger and you had never even once insulted him, right? You cry to yourself before realizing that you are no longer restrained. Run.

And so you run, bumping toward everything but still manage to reach the door. You frantically turn the door knob and swing the door open, running toward the empty hall despite bumping into lots of things.

And you bump into a man. It's not him right? Judging from their groans, it's probably someone else.

"H-help! Help me! P-pl-please! I- I, so-someone" your hands frantically try to find their way toward the man's, looking for support.

Oh if only you were still able to see, you could have seen how the pale the man was as he shook in fear. Even so, the man stayed silent and

Splat

You feel something... gushes toward your face. Some kind of fluid. It doesn't take long for you to identify what it was after the fluids find their way toward your tongue.

The man's body slumped down and you threw yourself backward. What just happened? You don't know, you can't see anything!

Losing your own balance, you fell down on your butt. Still in shock, you frantically feel the blood on your face. Realization hits you and you realize, the man has been killed in front of you. You scream in horror as you wipe your face frantically, smearing the blood even more. It's getting harder to distinguish which is yours and which is his.

"Senior"

Dottore's voice cut your mind in half immediately. You twitch in fear, this man is still here with you. You can feel him walking toward you, his footsteps are not heavy but sharp nonetheless. He stops in front of you, crouching down, he yanks you by your ankle toward him.

"Come to think of it..." his fingers slowly caressing your ankle "I haven't punished your feet too hm?" Horrors shot inside your body. No no no. You have enough of being blind, now to become an immobile porcelain doll altogether? You shook your head vigorously, a bunch of incoherent babbles of begging won't stop him.

"And this hand..." you cry even louder as he yanks you up to your feet "I shouldn't allow it to touch anybody else anymore right?" He gives the back of your palm a kiss "Mmh, let's proceed with it now"

He drags you toward somewhere you don't even wish to know. Smells of antiseptics and blood invade your nose. It's your biggest nightmare now. You thrash under his grip but it barely does anything, especially with how weak your pitiful state is now.

He lays you down on a chair this time, your hands and legs taped onto something plushy. Dottore hums the tune again. Instead of making you feel better, it only makes your stomach churn in fear again. Clinking noises, pokings, and pricking your skin, you feel how the foreign fluids enter your body.

It's not anesthesia to your demise.

Left wrist, right wrist, left ankle, right ankle.

You feel your whole body boiling in pain. Your scream never bothers him as it's much more regarded as music for his ear instead. Your eyes wound reopen as you cry, blood flowing out like a waterfall.

It didn't take long for you to finally choke on your own sobs, how you can no longer feel your arms and legs.

How you no longer wriggle in pain and fear.

Dottore kisses your sweating forehead as he wipes all the blood off your face.

"You did great, Senior ♡"

01・Why did you, although I am here,

00・sleep with other men?

Dottore's eyes did not leave your side even once. Watching every movement like how a predator would. His gaze lingered on your half-exposed chest. Dottore didn't like you showing your skin but he had to admit that your dress did a great job with it.

Your face remained beautiful in his eyes even with the mask covering half of it. You did notice how he was gazing over you despite having his eyes covered by his mask but you brushed it off. Besides, you had a better thing to care for, which was the company in front of you. Oh, how his arm found its way to your waist, pulling you closer to him as you two whispered to each other seductively.

The alcohol definitely helps you two loosen up to each other, sharing kisses before making your way to any chamber available.

What you thought to be a private moment with the man was shattered down. Dottore was in fact, there, inside the room. His eyes were redder than usual, watching you two in fuming rage. Where he was is none of your concern, what matters is that he was there.

A few days after that, the man was announced missing. His mutilated remnants were soon found floating by the river.

03・That’s the punishment for the crime you committed

00・I’m not letting you go anywhere anymore

But he can't do that to you. Instead, he'll break down anything of yours instead of blowing a death to you directly. Yes, your punishment would be way easier than theirs. He wants you to be with him after all.

― ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ, ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵐʸ ˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᵐᵉⁿ ―

00・I'll drive a picket into your chest

00・and put you inside a case with a glass door

But, even so, the temptation to learn your heart remains there. No matter how many years it has been, he still wishes to learn how your heart works. What makes you skip? What makes it beat so fast? How does it pump your blood? You wouldn't mind him poking it every now and then right? He'll just pull your heart out and learn it for a moment before returning it back to its respective place.

00・I’ll place that in my room

00・and observe you every day

There has never been a moment where no one sees him without you next to him. Either on a wheelchair or carried by him or his clones. Isn't that nice? This way, you two will never be separated anymore!

He will never be bored observing you who was sitting motionless. Oh, you are the most beautiful doll he has ever seen! Even Sandrone furrowed her eyebrows as though envying his precious creation while Columbina spins out curses toward him because of how she would never be able to match your beauty.

03・Each time I look at you, I feel shivers

00・and the blood in this body boils

Even today too, you can feel Dottore's gazes linger all over you. How he loves to move your hands or legs, how he loves to kiss your cheek while lightly biting it with his sharp teeth. To draw out noises from you, that's all he's asking for. For someone who can't move or see, you surely survived longer than he expected to.

Not like you can do anything after all

04・You are already only mine

06・Yes, you are my Specimen Girl

On some occasions, Dottore will cover your face with a veil, only allowing him to lift it and observe your eternal beauty. Your bandages used to be drenched in red wine but it seems like you have finally accepted everything.

The bandage is pristine white, meaning you are no longer dwelling on your past traumas, reopening the wounds with your tears.

00・That’s right, I’ll preserve you in that liquid

11・That way, you won’t rot away

But this is weird, you've been awfully quiet recently. It's not weird for you to stay silent for almost a whole day but even so, he would never fail in earning a groan from you. He also notices how your skin started to crack up like how an old porcelain doll would.

He places his head on your chest, listening to any kind of heartbeats or it pumping blood. Not a single beat was heard. And you, on the other hand, start to crack even more. Are you a human, or a doll?

Have you ever been a human in the first place?

No human would have their skin cracking like this, and yet your flesh and heart are real. What and who are you? Dottore ponders to himself before deciding to craft some kind of potion for you. One that a living one should never be exposed to.

"Don't worry Senior, this will help you"

00・Silent as the grave, that unique scent

00・arouses me once more

You are as silent as a porcelain doll would be. Some kind of sick, familiar scent is now all over you. And yet, he does not make any complaints at all, instead, he... loves it. The mixture of something rotten and the foreign fluids inside your guts and on your skin, he never has enough of it. It's sickening as much as it is addicting. Sandrone and Columbina's distaste grows more and more even though they can't do anything about it.

As much as they hate his treatment toward you, they have to agree that your beauty was in fact, preserved as how it used to be. Flawless if they discount the small cracks on your skin.

They hate him but what can they do? They have promised you and one should never break their promise. Never.

00・Your now unmoving body

00・I defile without paying any price

You didn't move but he could hear you coming to life again. Has he succeeded in bringing you back to life? Have you finally found your will to live again? Countless nights of learning your heart and brain are finally paid off.

The blood doesn't taste like it used to anymore but who is he to judge? As long as it's you...

Dottore hugs you tightly, his hands traveling to somewhere he shouldn't be. His kisses are greedy and rough, teeth ripping your lip as he tastes your blood in his mouth.

He intertwines his fingers with yours as he pushes his kisses deeper into you. His tongue explores your mouth, clashing with something familiar. Has your tongue always been like this?

―ₐₐₕ, ₙₒw ᵢ fₑₑₗ ₗᵢₖₑ ₑₐₜᵢₙg yₒᵤ ᵤₚ―

The frilly dress is ripped open as his eyes won't stop devouring every inch of your body. Your heart is beating, for him, for him, for him!

Angelic moans can be heard as his finger traces your delicate skin before resting inside your lacy panties. Just because you have found your will to live again doesn't mean you have also gotten yourself a new body. In fact, you still couldn't move at all. Even so, Dottore still tries his best to earn any kind of reaction from you, how your head twitches in pleasure as he teases that one spongy spot inside you.

Oh if only you still have control of your arms and legs, you would probably trap him with your leg and choke him to death.

He has to feel what you felt and yet to your own dismay, all he's doing right now is pleasuring you. Hell knows you wouldn't want him to feel the same pleasure.

His lips found their way again, to your cold lips, neck, shoulder, chest, tummy, and...

"The night is still long Senior, so please bear with it okay?"

00・Your body gone cold

00・when I touch it with my hands I feel shivers

You lay there next to him with the moonlight illuminating all the bruises he made. He can't help it, to pull you closer and closer to him as he pumps himself in and out inside of you. He will always love the sensation of adjusting your limbs to him, giving him a sense of control toward you as he brings your hand to his neck. He knew you wanted to choke him. Judging by you would occasionally clench your jaw and brought your head close to his neck, trying your best to bite the spot where his vein is connected. You wanted to kill him.

And that is your new resolve to live again.

10・I cut open your chest with a knife

00・I take out your heart and eat it

But this is getting into nerves more than he thought it would.

You've been sitting quietly with an unhinged smile plastered on your face. You who didn't really care for your appearance ask him to dress you up beautifully every day now. How you want to wear frilly puffy dresses, how you want a beautiful lacy blindfold instead of plain white bandages, how you want to wear a long white stocking with frills and bows, how you want him to ornate your head with accessories.

And how you ask him to eat your heart out so that he can just kill you right then and there.

"Cut my chest open and eat my heart out" you lean toward Dottore's ears, whispering of what he had long wanted to do to you.

This is in fact, nothing but just a green light for him to pluck your heart out and eat it on a silver platter now.

Eating it all up as though it's his last meal, drinking up all the blood like it's the world's finest wine to ever exist. Oh how Sandrone and Columbina wished they could just behead Dottore's head and offer it to you.

In the end, not a single bits of your heart remained on the plate. It's all in his guts now.

00・With this, your heart is now mine

06・you won’t be able to love anyone but me

He has done it. He has taken your most important thing which is your heart. Your heart is all his now. Without your heart, you can no longer love anyone nor see the truth. Without your heart, you can no longer feel what it's like to be alive.

Your heart is inside his guts now. The feeling of your heart being one with him is addicting. It's proof that you now are only able to love him and him alone. No one will be able to take your heart away anymore, be it literally or figuratively.

00・I return the rest to the case

00・I place it again by my side

Your heartless body remains beautiful. While you start to crack more and more, he'll always know a way to put a stop to it. But even so, he starts to feel paranoid about you.

Every now and then, he can see you strolling with those flimsy long white gowns around the palace all by yourself, humming the old tune from the Akademiya days.

No matter how many times he breaks your leg, you'll always be seen strolling around the palace.

No matter how many times he cut your vocal chord, you won't stop humming the same tune for others to hear.

He hates it. Your voice is only for him to hear. It's reserved for him and him only. Even so, whenever you lay on the operation table while having your vocal chord destroyed by him, you could still chuckle at him creepily. Sometimes, strings of curses can be heard as well.

Dottore will always receive complaints from the other fellow harbingers, about how the maniacal laughter and curses never end. How footsteps can be heard ringing in the middle of the night, how the tune will be hummed in an eerie way, and how the trickle of blood won't stop dirtying the floor.

And so, he sealed your body inside a crystal glass box. This way, you can no longer roam freely and will forever be sealed next to him, for him to be the only one to see you.

00・I won’t let you go for as long as I live

00・after all, you are my

"Senior," Dottore's fingers dances on your glass box, "You will always be my Senior no matter what"

→・―It’s unforgivable―・→

00・From inside the case

06・Look only at me

00・until I die

No matter how tight he ties your blindfold, he will always feel as though it's loosening up. What will happen if the blindfold is taken off? Will you be looking at someone else with that empty eye socket of yours? He can't allow you to look at anyone else other than him! You are only entitled to look at him until he dies.

No, even after he dies, he will never allow you to look at anyone else. Dottore who feels the knot in his stomach tied even tighter than ever decides to untie it. To untie your blindfold and

00・Aah, but you

00・no longer have eyes

02・After all, that is

―because I gouged them out...―

Therefore, he is greeted by your empty eye sockets. Is it delusion? Dottore slowly inserts his finger inside your eye socket as much as he wishes he doesn't want to. Empty. Ah, he really did gouge it out. The proofs are still in his chamber, placed on his nightstand. That way, he can just take the jar and observe it as he tries to drift himself to sleep. Your beautiful eyes never fail to mesmerize him.

B̶̨̨̳̭͎̝́̒̅̂̄͐͠͝u̷̢͉̼̭̗̎̐͒́̓̍̈̎̽͝ț̶̫̬͓̌̽̀̏̍̓͑̿̉͝ ̴̗̯͇̗̜̟̙͇̗̄́̃ȟ̶̯͐̀̎o̵̻̺̬̦͙̘͑͆͌̅̑̒̔́͘͘w̷̱̗͂̉́͊̎͝ ̶̳̹͕͖͎͖͉̩̱̎̽̈́͛ả̴̝͇͇͍͍̙͇̩͙̯́̋̔̽́̔̚͝b̴̨̛̦̲̩̰̣̲̦̻̆̉̀̀͊̊̎͐̽ọ̸̢̨̡͔͔̮̜͖̀̄́̈́̕ͅu̵̡͖̥̬̤͕̺̓̓͋̈̌͆͋͑̐̚ͅẗ̴͉͚́͐̄ ̶̡̢͉̪͕̥̝͐̄͐͜a̴̛̳̭͔̰̠̎̄̑͛̏͑͝͠ ̵̭͆͑̍ṕ̴̧̥̥̜͖̭̞͇͉̾̀̿̉͐͗͂̒ą̷̨̲̱͈̹̣̘͈͗̔̎͋̀͠i̴͚̜̎͆ŗ̴͙͈͖̝͉͔͙̭̲̀͐̉́ ̶̢͓͍͙̩̺͍͊̈͛̅o̴͈͕̞̩͓͑͒̈́̊͋̓͐͌̏̕͜f̶͔̜̫͔͍̥̓̑̋͘ ̴̧̧͕̞̮̭̠͐͌͆̽̇̍̒̈́͊ȅ̵̤͔̘̥̳̤͓̘̇̋͠y̵̨̱͒̇̍̾è̷̠͉͋́̏̆́̽s̶̹͚̟͕̣̓̑̐́̀̓̏͋͝ ̵̢͕̜͓̩̠̠͙̆͗̈́́͑͂̀̀̒̕ṫ̸̙̣̫̪̜̫͊̌̓h̵̩͊͂a̴̟̯̤̣̼̪͎̠͆̋́̇t̶̨̞͓̤̮̀̽̾̊ ̵̗̜̹̱͔̲͖̙̼̗̆́̅̒͠͠ĺ̴͉͙̀͘o̶̥̟̦͖̯̱͖͌̍̑͐̅ǒ̸̢̞͎̹̜̗̥̱̰͌͌k̸̡̹̮̀s̷̡̪͕͖̭͉͉͈̞̀̀̔̈́̎̾́͋̉̋ ̴̨͍͙̥̰̮̂̃͋̆̕͝ͅļ̶̛͌͌͗̉̄͌̒͜ị̷͚̫̈̕ķ̶̛̳̠̹̳̯̣͙̤̰́̑̓̒͆́̓͝͠ê̷͉̺̘͓̻̜͖͜ͅ ̴̺̳̭̳̫̱̌̓̌̌̃͜ͅh̷̛͚̜̞̬̲̥̪̅̄i̷͎̿̀̆̔̚͜͝͝s̸̜̩̞̣̝̓͆̑̌̄̚͜͠͝?̸̹̲̝͙̞̝̟̌͜

00・I’ll put glass beads in your eyes

02・Let’s make you new eyes

09・What eye color should I choose?

02・That’s right, a red like blood would be fine

But to use some kind of fake eyes would be boring no? And so, a clone of his was burnt down in the incinerator with empty eye sockets.

01・With those beautiful eyes

00・look only at me always

This way, he can feel you staring at him again. No, he will never recreate your eyes even though he can. It'll never be able to match the real one after all. He won't even bother looking for someone to take their eyes because he doesn't want someone else's eyes staring at him and even worse, inside your eye sockets.

04・Only you from now on and always

01・I won’t let you go from my side

He won't repeat the same mistake anymore. To be weak and hopeless as he watched you leave the Akademiya in humiliation, all to the way of being exiled out of Sumeru without anyone protecting you.

You didn't do it. He knew you didn't do it. And yet, no one would believe in you two as though they had been blinded by something. To make things even worse, your little friend was absent during your exile. If only she was there, perhaps she could shield you from the crazy citizens throwing you pebbles and rocks. Maybe that way, you wouldn't trip down from the cliff and be pronounced dead from concussion.

Maybe people wouldn't gawk at your dead body and broken limbs as though you were nothing but an animal. For them to step on your off-positioned limbs, your splattered brains, and your body altogether.

How did you come back to life? He'll never know it. Maybe Sandrone truly had something to do with it after all.

But for now, what matters is that you are here with him.

07・After all, you are mine

09・From now on and always mine

02・Until this body rots away

00・Yes, you are my

『Specimen Girl』

Sandrone's voice rings.

―Only mine―

―Only mine―

Sandrone places the gun on the back of Dottore's head. She had had enough of this farce already. She no longer cares about the promise she made to you. She wouldn't mind being selfish for this is her only wish. She will avenge your death by shooting his brains out.

『Only mine』

What she didn't expect is that Dottore would be the one shooting his own jaw, splattering his brains all over Sandrone's pristine dress. His body slumped forward with a thud. He ends his own farce in the end. Is it out of guilt or realization? Did his madness and delusions finally swallow him whole? Even so, Sandrone wastes no time in spitting Dottore's body before stomping and dragging his body to be experimented on in the most inhumane way possible. Columbina too will be there to lend Sandrone her hand.

𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬

There is another fic (and possibly more in the future) about Dottore x Senior but it might be different than what's mentioned in reader's past

Zandik's Memories, Dormitory (TBA, WIP)

Zandik's Diaries (TBA)

Senior (different but similar nonetheless)

As if for Sandrone's and Columbina's, I don't think I'll be writing for them until there's a request coming in for them lol

Inhumane (TBA)

Dormitory's Lullaby (TBA)

All these fics will be extreme OOC in both lore-wise and characters so proceed with caution.

[blackholesun321]

the mental illness can be called Abandoned Nesting Syndrome-and can usually occur in individuals who were abandoned either young or suddenly and traumatically like say,, a very prominent and very wanted crew breaking up and leaving the two young cabin boys to fend for themselves and assuming that they will be able to see eachother again only to watch the head of the flock be very publicly executed

and given how the would government acted at baterillia on just the rumor of roger having a child….

what do you think they would do when two young, (relatively) inexperienced members of his flock are flying free?

alone?

Ok I kinda went overboard with this one and wrote an entire Fic chapter for you. Idk if it’s any good but hopefully it conveys the absolute mess Shanks is as a person. And how much Mihawk loves him despite this— well there both huge messes. I’ll get into Mihawks neuroses at a later date but enjoy!

⛔️ WARNING⚠️ THIS CONTAINS MENTION OF GORE! DEATH! INFANT DEATH! DESCRIPTION OF SUICIDE! SELF HARMING! AND A DESCRIPTION OF A DISSOCIATIVE DELUSION MANIC EPISODE! If you are triggered by any of this DO NOT READ THIS WORK! I will mark the bit in red when it starts but you will be missing most of the chapter.

—————/—————————/—————————/———————/-

Summary ——Mihawk is visit the red force to show off his new murder child to his husband.

He instead comes upon an quiet ship, a smoking first mate and the terrible horrible feeling that something is wrong.

———

Mihawk knows somethings wrong.

Call it intuition, call it knowing his husband, call it noticing that the Red Force is never this quiet without something unusual happening, call it observation Haki.

Whatever it is, as Mihawk's coffin-sloop slides side by side with the giant bastardization between a long ship and a galleon, he can't help but brace himself for the worst.

He removes his hat to check yet again at the vivre card stuck in the band, the motion disturbing his cargo tucked up and held securely against his spine. There’s a shuffle and a small adjustment on Mihawk's part to allow a green head, mussed with sleep and disgruntlement, to poke itself out the top of his wing.

Zoro yawns, a mouth full of missing teeth on display before squinting up at the Red Force. A quiet "woah" on his exhale as the fledgling seems to try and lean back all the way, kicking the inside of Mihawk’s wing to look at the ship in its entirety.

“Your husband must be strong.”

Mihawk hums in acknowledgment, sliding his hat back into place upon seeing that once again the card was just as whole and ivory as before.

“Do you assume I would have married someone who wasn’t?” He wonders idly if he’d have to fly up, dreading the idea of leaving his fledg—student here alone. God knows the number of times Mihawk had had to keep him from walking straight off the bow and into the sea.

“No, but I bet he’s as much of a bastard.”

Now a cold nose and cheek are being rubbed into his shoulder, and lord above, Mihawk hopes Zoro isn’t wiping his nose on his jacket. Children, he has come to learn in the last weeks or so, are disgusting and won't hesitate to use you and anything near you as a hand towel.

“Language,” he can't help but admonish, as someone finally must have noticed his sloop and waves of subtle Haki he’d been sending out for the last fifteen minutes. (And now he knows something is up. Shanks would have never missed his Haki signature, not with him projecting it like a neon sign.) A ladder has started being lowered, and Mihawk mentally sighs at the thirty feet he’ll have to climb with a wriggling child tucked safely to his back.

“Try not to move so much or this will be uncomfortable for us both.” There’s a grumble and some twisting that has Mihawk mentally noting to himself and his student for a quick preening session after this is over. Two tiny arms snake around his neck and grab a handful of down. Scratch that; he’s going to need a long preening session. The ladder finally arrives, and Mihawk starts the long, arduous climb up his husband's ship.

———

It takes a second to reach the top, and by the time he does, both him and Zoro are absolutely done with the uncontrollable wind currents slapping them against the hull.

“Permission to board?” He huffs, already heaving himself and cargo over the rail before Benn has a chance to reply.

“Yeah-yeah, fucking welcome.”

Mihawk's wing has started to cramp from holding Zoro close to keep him from falling thirty feet into the sea. Witnesses and prone-to-getting-lost child be damned, he gives Zoro a warning shake before slowly stretching out the offending appendage.

Zoro, instead of plopping down like a normal considerate child, chooses instead to slide down Mihawk's body and puddle on the deck at his feet, grip still clutched in his pant leg.

“Never again, just let me take my chances on the ship next time,” the fledgling hisses as Mihawk lifts up his boot to try and detangle the child from his leg. It isn’t working. With an aborted sigh of a man learning to pick his battles, he gives his wing and boot one more good shake before giving in to his fate of his leg being clutched like a barnacle.

“I see you’ve been.. busy.” He could flip Beckman off and is incredibly tempted to do so, but knows that would only play into what his husband's first mate wants. No one could get under his skin faster, aside from maybe Shanks and the marines as a whole… and Doflamingo, but that was Doflamingo, and the man practically made it his life goal to live under others' skin. But bigger fish to fry, like the fact Benn is smoking. He never smokes unless something's up. Something big. And usually to do with his husband’s stupidity.

“Where is Shanks?” His eyes scanning the deck for red, bloody, and stark against the Red Force's maroon paneling. He finds nothing, and the panic he’s been suppressing goes from defcon 1 to defcon 1.5. His eyes slide back to Beckman, who winces, teeth chewing, sifting at the end of his cigarette.

“He ain’t hurt, Hawkeye, just… he’s a bit.” Beckman glances down at Zoro, who has taken the opportunity to curl up like a cat around Mihawk's boot and is most likely fast asleep.

“He’s been on a bit of a spree.” Spree could mean a number of things for Shanks. Benn was being circumstantial and oblique, and it was pissing Mihawk’s already small amount of patience into the wind.

“Elaborate.”

“It’s an episode, not…” He takes a minute to inhale cancer— and Mihawk wants to rip the cigarette out of his hand and make him get on with it, anxiety and pirate guest rights be damned.

“Obsessive.” Is what he finally lands on, and it’s something, it’s something. “Just all over the place en’ shit. Hasn’t hurt himself, I think? Hasn’t hurt anyone else.”

And that’s ok, not good but enough to make the fear in Mihawks chest curdle into something manageable. He can do this, he’s done this before, but a lot was happening right now, and Mihawk didn’t need—he already had a surprise to show Shanks in the form of his protégé. For someone like Shanks, being introduced to new flock, especially a fledgling, could exacerbate him into something worse.

“How far along is he? Is it just nesting, or is he trying to rearrange the cargo hold?” And Mihawk isn't trying to make light of the situation; Shanks has and will tear the ship apart if it doesn’t meet the unachievable standards his mind has conjured. But not obsessive, not this time— that’s not good; but means they probably won’t have an entire disaster on their hands.

“Not too far, started about a day or two ago. He's been locked in his cabin, hasn’t eaten, and refused to drink when I offered. Was about to call if— you know.” The ashes from Benn’s cigarette are flicked over the bow, and Mihawk appreciates that he made an effort for it to be downwind at least.

He forced himself to breathe and braces his heart. He loves his husband more than he thinks he’s ever loved anything, aside from swordplay, but these episodes can be hard on both of them. Especially if Uta was...

“Is Uta here?” He's going to have bruises from how hard he's pinching the bridge of his nose to stifle the migraine starting to build behind his eyes.

“Nah, dropped her off with Buggy a few days back. We’ve been looking for something to do with the government; didn’t want her involved.” Well, that's a relief. At least he won’t have to be fielding two children today.

Thinking of children, Mihawk's eyes glance back down to a definitely asleep fledgling, wings tucked up and over himself in a display of youthful flexibility that makes Mihawk's back twinge just to look at.

“May I leave my charge with you while I go... talk to Shanks?”

Benn shrugs. “No skin off my nose.” He’s already getting in his last few hits before he’ll have to pitch the cigarette over the side. Mihawk hopes the smell won’t be too much of a bother for Zoro.

It takes a second of removing surprisingly strong fingers from his pants leg before Mihawk is able to lift a still very asleep fledgling over to his husband's first mate's arms.

The boy's face scrunches for a second, feathers fluffing, and Mihawk worries he’ll wake before his protégé turns into Beckman's warmth and starts breathing shallowly again.

“I bet it's a hell of a story how you managed to adopt a fledgling,” Benn grins, gazing moving to the dead asleep boy curled to his chest. “-you, of all people.”

“He’s my protégé,” Mihawk corrects, fixing Zoro’s newly grown flight feathers from getting crushed and smoothing out the down.

“If you say so,” the bigger man chuckles. The only reason Mihawk doesn’t retaliate is that he’s an adult and can rise above the petty need to stab whatever displeases him on a day-to-day basis. If he did that, he’d be a widow several times over by now.

With one last shuffle of Zoro's wings, Mihawk nods once at his fledgling, once at Beckman, and he steals himself as he leaves to find whatever state his husband might be in.

———

Warning this is where shit gets real do not read beyond this point- if trigger by any of the thing wanted about above.

———

There are good days, you know?

Mostly good days now. It used to be bad days sometimes and good days another, and you learn to live with it. You learn— you don’t move on, but you move, and that's something.

It's mostly good days, but when the bad days come and hit like a hammer, it's hard to catch yourself before the fall.

It's not Luffy's fault. Well, it is kinda, but not entirely. It's Shanks' fault mostly. He's not good with kids; it's a rule of his. No kids on the force, no babies or children, just he can't, not him, not them, so small and fragile and—

He dreams at night, okay. He dreams, and they aren't good dreams. Those small, headless, limbless forms drip past his line of sight. They chant dead names and tiny insidious things that burrow beneath his skin, crawling like parasites into his brain.

Memories are funny things. Red had his memories and attachments, but those were nothing to Shanks; separation and repression. And well, ignorance was bliss. That empty murdered town was peaceful, in a way they hadn't felt since...

The square had been, in its own twisted way, the heave of bodies, the humidity, the perfect moment before the blades fell, and red and black feathers, falling with them. He's on the floor, nails in the wood, heaving, knots in his stomach, lamprey twisting up in knots under his skin; he can feel it.

He went, and he saw. Feathers, so much down, wings ripped from corpses, heads and bloated stomachs that popped like bursting overripe fruit, limbs, and burned mother and burn father and grandfathers and whole families, piles on piles.

And the screaming. screamingscreamingscreaming-

—the light skitters like a crab and the ground pools like blood—

No, like feathers, his hands are red and brown, full of feathers, blood just down. He pulls, and the pain shoots down to the marrow, painpainpain. Here, in ripped and ruined sheets

Here in his room. It’s not safe— it’s never safe. It’s never perfect, he tried he tried to make it perfect make it safe and they’re going to die the world is rotting under his finger tips, dripping dropping red-red-red and dead dead Dead!

There is no squeak as the door opens, no tell other than the barest ghost of the air around him shifting, and he doesn’t need to open his eyes to know who it is. A sudden wave of paranoia courses through him, and he can feel his silent appreciation shift. The whisperings in the back of his head grow conflicted, some enraged beyond reason, others whispering comforts and idealizations.

Ignoring them is second nature, but reality is just as cruel as his mind.

“Shanks? Are you.. Shanks.”

The screams of dead children echo through the room, and he absentmindedly picks at the flaking blood beneath his nubs of a thumbnail. “Shanks? Love, I’m going to touch you, ok?” That part of him that is Shanks revolts at its state, and the part that is Red laughs like cracking bones, telling him to pull them out. “Can you hear me love? Nod if you can hear—“ The part that is 13 is a gaping emptiness of nothing but grief-grief-anger-pain, and the part that is 15 screams, “Shanks? i need you to look at me ok I need-“ and the part that is 17 laughs with Red, digging down, down, down! And—

“SHANKS! STOP-“

He's spiraling again.

Shanks breathes or Red does, and there's blood dripping down his face, the nails of his left hand buried deep into the skin. He's here, there, now, and he isn't, but it's enough, maybe, to struggle back up above the screams.

He opens to see, he doesn’t want to look but— Gold and black and gold on black and gold within in gold, ringed and round and—

“Mihawk?”

Mihawk. Birds and flight and freedom, arms and swords and blood, blood rivers of blood— and pressure, hands over his hands, red with stains and red with feathers, and it’s all red, please I can’t, I don’t want to see, I can’t, please—

“I’m here, that’s right, I’m here, love. Benn didn’t say... I am here, your safe; focus on me ok?”

Fingers in his fingers, broad and strong, and heat, not cold, not limp-dead-rotting, not small, focus and focus and focus, not small, here and pressure stinging on his face—

“I’m going to pull your hand away from your cheek; you’re hurting yourself. Nod twice if you understand?”

It takes all that he is, and he is so much, so many pieces, so many times and places, so much pain—it takes all that he is to nod once-twice, to stay here with him, his safety, strength, his—

“Yes, I'm just okay. Yes, that's okay. I'm here, I'm here, you're here with me. Can you talk?”

There is air over fresh cuts and words pressing over his ears and eyes, and holding his hands, broad and warm and alive, and here, and Shanks is so tired.

“I can't... I'm so tired but I can't...” he wants and wants, he's twisted with need, the lampreys squirm, his skin writhes, his wings ache, he wants.

“Shanks, I—Shanks, can you stay with me? I need you with me just a few minutes more, okay? Have you taken any of your medications today?”

There is more, there is always more, it’s a well— a never ending pit. It swallows him sometimes, it rarely swallows him whole, like here, like now. He has things to keep it small and manageable, at bay. He has tells and medication and alcohol—god, does he want a drink—and people who know, who catch him when he starts to fall. But this was so soon, so sudden, he didn't realize, he didn't notice—

“No, I... rum, that’s—that.” And it is, it is, but not enough, never enough. He's so tired, he wants it all to stop, but if it stops, he'll die, and everyone he loves will die. It's not safe. He needs to make it safe. If it's safe and everyone is safe, then no more, no blood, no more feathers, no more red—

"Thank you for telling me," hands, his hands, their hands, nails filled with dirt. He dug so many shallow graves—When it rained, the little feathers floated back up. So many babies—he doesn’t want their faces. He wants, he wants the ground to swallow them whole—

"So many. I don't, I can't. It's not safe. They'll kill you, and Uta—WHERE'S UTA, UTA!" His Baby Were Is His Baby! They killed so many, they’ll kill his Baby— they killed his brother, they’ll take his baby too. He saw the mothers, he saw the fathers, corpses with slit wrists and slit throats, bodies thrown from the cliffs. He can’t, if she dies, he’ll die too. She can’t die, everyone will die if she’s dead—

“Shhh, she’s safe—she’s safe, she’s with Buggy their… hiding, no one can find them. I don’t even know where they are. They're safe, love, we're all safe, I promise.” He doesn’t know, he has to see, he doesn’t know but... this is Mihawk, this is here, and hands pressure on his fingers, moving up his arms to cup his cheek, this is true—he doesn’t know, but it’s Mihawk, and that’s enough—he’s so tired.

“I know, love, I know, you can be tired—” no, he can’t. “I’m here now, I'm keeping watch, you just lay back for me?” No, he can’t, but Mihawk, it’s his husband who asks. There's ashes in his lungs and maggots under his skin, but Mihawk is here, and maybe, maybe?

“Yes, just like—“ the hands move from his cheek and pulse point to slide under and over— a body, firm and warm and alive, pressed to his own, down, down, down to the ground.

“I’m here, shhh, I’m here.” The rain and the mud and bodies, cold shivering, the black heat of his father's corpse, grinning with flies, but hands in his hair, stroking—tangled. Words pressed to his skull— He's here, he’s here.

“That's right, I’m here. I'm not going anywhere.” Shanks is here, Red is dead. Shanks is now; Red is then.

“That’s okay, close your eyes for me, okay?” Shanks is real, and Red can dream.

———

Yeah that’s it for now. I’ll probably be rewriting this first draft and posting it on ao3 with another pov from Benn.

[lady-rose-moon]

Can I suggest a TVA Reader x Loki where the reader figures out that her and Loki loved each other before she was taken to work for the TVA?

How could I forget you? || Loki x Reader ||

A/N: ahhhh I really hope you like this!!

Laufeyson. Variant L1130. An eternal pain in the TVA’s backside. God of Mischief. Your personal - unwanted - leech. 

For some reason, Laufeyson had started following you around just as much as he followed Agent Mobius. You found it unnerving how he stared you down and handed you things before you even realised you needed them. He seemed proud to be reading your mind even with the use of his magic.

You were sat at your desk looking through some case files when you saw L1130 approaching. Muffling a sigh under your breath, you continued staring down at the page you were analysing, finding the Steve Rogers variant much more interesting than the God of Mischief that was trying to barge his way into your world. You didn’t need him around and Mobius hadn’t reassigned the variant so why was he so keen to be around you?

Time passed and yet all Laufeyson did was sit beside you, crafting paper into little roses and impaling the bottom of them with rolled-up paper supposed to be a substitute for stalks. From the corner of your eye, you saw him begin to arrange them neatly into a bouquet, his eyes never leaving the paper roses as his deft fingers tied a ribbon around the paper stalks.

“Shouldn’t you be doing your work, Agent?” Loki asked after a few moments of quiet, twirling the paper bouquet in his hand solemnly.

“What file did you steal the paper from to make that?” you asked with a sneer, turning to face the God of Mischief properly now and seeing just on the edges of his face how tired he looked, “a variant like you shouldn’t even be on this floor.”

“Mobius was busy,” Loki replied softly, his eyes never leaving the bouquet as he spoke, “I needed company.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, “then why bother me?”

“Because I trust you, Y978,” Loki replied and you noticed the hesitance in his voice as he spoke your name.

It felt like he was about to call you a different name, some name that you felt on the edge of your brain but couldn’t quite grasp. With a huff, you turned back to the Steve Rogers variant, deciding to ignore the variant.

“I lost someone, back on my timeline,” Loki spoke after silence had reigned for a few moments, “my fiancee. It feels like everybody has forgotten her existence.”

“Angrboða?” you asked, never looking up from the file, your voice bored as you turned a page.

“No, no,” Loki replied slowly, his curls flowing around his shoulders as he shook his head, “you wouldn’t know her either. It feels like she was deleted from my timeline. She exists now only in my memory.”

“The TVA doesn’t purposefully steal people and delete all of their existence, L1130,” you replied as you turned another page, highlighting where the Nexus Event began, “perhaps it was delusion.”

The variant stilled beside you, his breath hitching and you turned just in time to see him stand from the desk and throw the bouquet into the bin beside your desk as he stalked away. Good, he was finally gone. Now you could finally focus on your work again.

After a few minutes, your eyes wandered to the bin where you could still see the bouquet Loki had created so lovingly as he sat beside you. You frowned and took it from the bin, admiring every rose and smiling when you saw that the paper was blank. He hadn’t ripped variant files to make these. He’d used plain, untainted paper to make innocent white roses. 

“I lost someone, back on my timeline,” Loki’s voice sounded in your head, sparking a curiosity in your mind. Who had been the one he’d lost. “She exists now only in my memory.”

With a tsk, you stood from your desk, gathered all of your belongings and clocked out for your lunch break. You didn’t go to the dining hall as usual for lunch, no, you went to the time theatre with Loki’s life reel in hand. 

You slipped into a free theatre and inserted the reel into the player, unpacking your bag and pulling out the hot chocolate you’d made on the way. You skipped to where you had last seen Loki and something inside you had forced you to stop. That ache in your mind was ringing through you now but you persevered. 

It was a ballroom, people gathered inside the golden halls and music ringing off the walls as people danced with joy and laughed. Loki was sat nursing a drink unhappily as he watched his brother dance with as many girls as he could fit on his arm.

The dark prince watched with bitterness as every girl evaded his charming invitation to dance. Defeated, Loki resigned himself to a seat and decided to spend the night bitterly drinking mead and cursing his brother’s lack of manners beneath his breath. 

“Excuse me?” came a soft voice from beside the Prince and he looked up to see a woman dressed finely in a beautiful gown, dressed in green, his colour.

Your breath hitched as you instantly recognised your own face. Horrified but intrigued, you continued to watch the reel, your hot chocolate abandoned. 

“May I help you?” Loki asked with bitterness in his voice, glaring away from you as he took a sip from his glass, not caring for how he spoke. 

“I saw you sitting over here and you looked very lonely,” you spoke without fear, your hands coiling in your emerald skirts to ease the tension in your body, “why is a Prince so ignored?”

“Why is the daughter of my father’s trusted kingsguard standing here with me when she could be dancing with the eldest?” Loki spat with venom in his words as his eyes flicked over to Thor and then back to you.

“I don’t want Thor,” you retorted easily, pulling a chair beside Loki and sitting down on it, brushing down your green skirts as you looked at him, “I want the smarter one, the quieter one, the one that knows when to stop eating and drinking.”

Loki hummed and tipped his head back, swallowing the rest of his wine before standing and offering you his hand , “dance with me?”

With a grin, you took the God’s hand and allowed him to guide you onto the dancefloor where you stayed with him for hours on end.

You spent hours watching as memory after memory passed along the screen, how close the two of you became until one day.

You were standing on the balcony looking out over Asgard with Loki holding your arm when an orange door opened behind the both of you. Loki turned around with a dagger already in his hand and you watched as people walked through - people you used to consider your friends - and took you into their rough grasp.

“Variant P2334, you are being arrested for crimes against the timeline,” one hunter told you and ignored your panicked yells.

“Reset the timeline,” another commanded, grabbing your other arm and dragging you through the orange door as you screamed out for Loki.

The file ended. There was no more existence of Y/N Y/L/N on the timeline, she was gone and you were here. 

“So,” came a familiar voice from behind you and when you turned around, you saw Loki standing by the door, “you know then.”

“How long have you been standing there?” you whispered, trying to sound strong and authoritative but you knew that you had failed miserably.

Loki approached you and cupped your cheek, “I saw it all,” he whispered as your breath hitched and tears filled your eyes, “I have missed you, my darling Y/N.”

You allowed Loki to hold you in his embrace, sighing into the contact with absolute relief. “I missed you too, Loki,” you whispered into his suit, your heart beating happily behind your ribs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Main tags:

@lokisgoodgirl @lokisninerealms @evelyn-kingsley @slpnbty2001 @jennyggggrrr @hahaha12123445 @ozymdias @holdmytesseract @itsybitchylittlewitchy @lovingchoices14 @xorpsbane @huntress-artemiss @muddyorbs @nerdy-fangirl-65 @lonadane @silverfire475 @chantsdemarins @iamsherlocked1479 @kittiowolf210 @just-someone11 @stupidthoughtsinwriting @loki-laufeyson-1054 @fictive-sl0th @coldnique

[missacidburn928]

Was Feeling Some Type Of Way

So I sat down and this flowed out...(attach whichever fictional man you desire)

“Why are we like this? Why do I feel like I have to walk around on eggshells when you’re actually home? When did the raging fire inside me settle into smoldering ash? Was it when I could tell your mood by the sound of your steps coming down the hall? Or did you slowly beat it out of me with every hand you raised in anger? I never thought I would be in this situation. Swore I would never be that girl. But I was blinded by your façade of the perfect gentleman. The mask you hide behind in your day-to-day life. Like a true sociopath you mirror emotions with practiced perfection. A practically flawless performance. Hell, you had me fooled and under your spell. So much so, that I thought I deserved every unkind act you did to me. Every bruise, every fatigued muscle. And I begged for any crumb of affection you would bestow on me. Your good girl. Your perfect little whore.”

The look on his face is one I have yet to see before. It’s a mix of his usual mild annoyance when I speak my mind and the eyes of a man primed for the kill. To render my flesh from the bone.

But I’m no longer scared. He fucked up when he left me bloodied on the floor while he disappeared on business for weeks. The longest he has ever been away. While my body healed, so did my resolve to leave. But I wasn’t going to skirt away in the night. Oh, no. I was going to say my peace before I left this life behind. Knowing full well, I may not make it out of this house alive.

“I’m done riding this merry go round of delusion. I’m well past enjoyment and just full on nauseated. If I don’t attempt to remove myself now; I know that I will succumb to the ultimate escape. For like a butterfly captured in jar I only have so much air before your either free me or place me under glass for display.”

“You’re talking in riddles and nonsense. You love me. And you know how insanely in love with you I am. It’s how you’re able to drive me to do such crazy things. I have only ever hurt you because I get overwhelmed by my emotions, and I lash out. But I always make it up to you. I always come back. I would never turn my back on you. And you’re telling me that you’re what…leaving me? Like somehow, I’m just going to let you out that door without a fight.”

His eyes darken. “You. Are. Mine.” He takes a step in my direction. “I will chase you down to the ends of the earth if I need to and drag you all the way back kicking in screaming because the only place you should be allowed, is by my side.”

Unbeknownst to him, when he took the rather large step to try and intimidate me into submitting to his whims like in the past, he left a wide enough space behind him that lead straight to the partially opened front door. It was my one and only chance to break free.

Before I could think better of it, I cut to my left to make it around his large frame. Barely making it past the birth of him and the wall. With no time to waste I made a mad dash for the door. Wanting to be as far away from his reach as possible. As I crossed the threshold, I felt a finger slip into the back loop of my jeans…

[icelandsgirl]

List of My 35 Favorite Hetalia Fanfictions

This list is mostly for me to go back to, but if you wanna check them out, I do recommend. So good. I ranked them in order of my favorites because it's my list and I do what I want.

Gutters (glassamilk, July 2010) https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6122026/1/Gutters 'The Calamity' has left the world stripped and dying. Alone in a civilian bunker in Munich, Sealand will be reunited with the last known living member of his surrogate family and together, they will set out across Europe to find those they have lost.

The Danish Slaughterhouse (Decada, November 2012) https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8744418/1/The-Danish-Slaughterhouse At Mathias's insistent begging, the rest of the Nordic Five decide to go visit this "new, bigger, totally badass" mansion of his and spend some vacation there. But the stay might not be as pleasant as Mathias had let on...

the Soviet Insanity series (Shadows in the Light of Day, October 2014) Part One: Interference https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10728361/1/Interference One of the unwritten laws for surviving in Russia's house is that you never, ever interfere with his punishment of your friends. Unless you're Lithuania. Then, no one's going to stop you. They're all too frightened to stand up to Russia...but Estonia is going to change that. Part Two: Latvia's Absence https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10758808/1/Latvia-s-Absence Lithuania and Estonia's punishment may be over, but the Baltics still have to survive the aftermath. With Latvia forbidden to speak to the others and Lithuania determined to unravel the mystery behind Latvia's 'disappearance', will anyone notice how strange Estonia is acting? Will Latvia be able to cope without his friends? And will they all be reunited? Part Three: Insanity https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10862382/1/Insanity Reconciled to the belief that Lithuania and Latvia do not care about him, Estonia makes a desperate plan that he believes will save them all, but may in fact destroy him once and for all. As Lithuania struggles to make sense of Estonia's behavior, he is confronted by a nation who is only just realizing what has been happening to the Baltics for years. Part Four: Web of Delusions https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11007515/1/Web-of-Delusions For now, the Baltics, Belarus, and Ukraine seem to finally be safe. However, when Lithuania's pity for Russia overcomes his common sense, he ends up even further entangled in the web of insanity that they are all trapped in. As Estonia and Belarus try to find a way to break free, Lithuania makes a last attempt to save Russia from himself.

Þetta Reddast (nicegaai, January 2023) https://archiveofourown.org/works/44430493/chapters/111752707 Berwald, Mathias, and Sigurd are cousins. Emil is Sig's little brother. All of them have the same thing wrong with them. (Maybe it's genetic.)

Evig Eies Kun Det Tapte (slire, June 2015) https://archiveofourown.org/works/4147929?view_adult=true Set 1349 → 1350 AD. During the Black Plague ⅔ of Norway's population perish. After a year of wandering his country looking for God(s), he seeks sanctuary in Copenhagen.

When I'm Falling Down (quinndalynn, February 2012) https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7855439/1/When-I-m-Falling-Down Left alone by his so-called Nordic 'family' once again, Iceland grapples with the monster inside, meanwhile pondering how he only truly thinks himself to be alive when he's falling.

A Certain Sort of Loneliness (APHPuffinChild, December 2016) https://archiveofourown.org/works/8809477/chapters/20198536 Emil has never dealt well with change - it always made him feel like he was being left behind.

The World Is Ugly (KnoxInSocks, April 2017) https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12461154/1/The-World-Is-Ugly Emil Steilsson has always lived with depression, but it only gets worse when he moves from his home in Iceland to America with his older brother. The only thing keeping him sane is the gorgeous boy in his class, Leon Wang, who went through a similar experience a few years before.

Cold Dark Sea (roughdiamond5, April 2016) https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11908631/1/Cold-Dark-Sea Leon trusts Emil until the last beat of his increasingly undead heart.

The Monsters In Us All (Shini-chan, June 2021) https://www.quotev.com/story/9310191/The-Monsters-in-us-all-Dark-Yandere-Hetalia-x-Reader/6 "Oh dear, look what you have done. Stealing my heart and then acting like it is no big deal. Now you pay the price, love. And the price is you!"

Unstable (SwiftNinja91, July 2012) https://www.deviantart.com/swiftninja91/art/Insane-Iceland-x-Therapist-Reader-Unstable-P1-317521066 Emil seems perfectly fine... despite the occasional creepy behavior.

She'll Never Know (Alfredosauce, August 2022) https://www.quotev.com/story/10382221/Hetalia-x-reader-ONE-SHOTS/19 Everybody’s pumped for the week-long skiing trip in Switzerland. While Emil and you are back to showcasing your weird relationship— “platonically” holding hands and sharing beds, Mathias never catches the drift like everyone else does and demands the same treatment from you. Emil eventually gives in to jealousy and denounces his friendship with you the first night in. He thought he was satisfied with these developments, all until he overhears a conversation between Mathias and Lukas two days later. Seems like he wasn’t the only one pining for you. His chance at revenge arrives when he finds the Dane unconscious in the snow after a freak accident.

Lights, Camera, Action! (smileygohappy, June 2022) https://archiveofourown.org/works/39743103/chapters/99499203 Lukas is a professional adult film star who has gained a wondrous amount of recognition and fame over the past few years. To keep up that ongoing popularity, he then asks Emil for a favor—to be in one of the adult films with him.

Tall Cold Grass (Jacquzy, June 2011) https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7043530/1/Tall-Cold-Grass It was wrong. It was disgusting. He was his brother, his dearest baby brother, and he could still remember how he'd first found that small, frightened child, shaking behind the tall, cold grass.

A World Without Light (Wheatley, December 2014) https://www.quotev.com/story/5769241/A-World-Without-Light-a-DarkHetalia-Nordics-story/1 When the gods gave Norway one last chance to be with the people he loved most, they told him he needed to give something up that was important to him. He gave them his sanity. Now locked in a world of pain and darkness, Norway searches for his lost ability to smile again.

Bad Decisions (Secondhandpianist, March 2023) https://archiveofourown.org/works/18148376/chapters/42914384 Eirikur generally liked to believe that he was a good and responsible person. He always paid his bills on time, he hardly ever missed work, but could he be considered responsible or even good after he found out what he’d managed to get himself into?

Texting (MeowHime, October 2015) https://www.wattpad.com/story/51275813-iceland-x-abused-reader-texting You'd lived in abuse for years, and your family would constantly remind you that you were worthless. On a whim, you joined a group chat, since socialising wasn't your strong point. There, you met a boy under the name of Iceland_Puffin. You became friends, and since then, had exchanged phone numbers and texted each other every night. Little did you know, he was transferring to your school.

Sovn, Lillebror (ReykjavikBondivik, November 2017) https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12741583/1/S%C3%B8vn-lillebror Depressed Iceland is Depressed™.

the Suicide Season pair (ticcking, March 2018) https://archiveofourown.org/series/966831 Russia is slowly dying (and he no longer likes to hurt people); Puberty is hitting Sealand like a bus, and something is wrong with America...

Frogs In a Pot (Leafy_leaf, September 2022) https://archiveofourown.org/works/41793708 “Don’t let someone be mean to you. You’re a very sweet child, so I worry you’ll be taken advantage of.” His boss said. Well, he had certainly tried to avoid being taken advantage of.

Shrinking Norway (PolarbearNinja2, June 2014) https://www.deviantart.com/polarbearninja2/art/Hetalia-Fanfic-Shrinking-Norway-Ch1-458571199 Shinking Norway.