#it feels like there’s no end in sight and I’ll be trapped in this role forever | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

queenburd · 2 years ago

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okay that post already has 3 votes for “one now, one later” so here’s part one of “the narrator is taking forever on this surprise”

warning for some existentialism, spiraling thoughts. this is a heavier chapter overall, confronting issues of putting your own needs aside for other people. there are references to my Zending fic as well.

i genuinely can’t think of a catchy title for this one. i’ll figure it out when it goes on ao3.

Stanley is feeling… unhappy. No, out of sorts. Upset?

It’s complicated.

His narrator hums gently as the protagonist folds his elbows onto his desk and rests his head on his forearms. “Stanley? Anything I can do?”

No. No, he doesn’t think so. He can’t even necessarily place what’s wrong. He’s just come back from the Museum, after quietly sitting in the small dark room with the narrator’s voice, and the room with emails flicking by.

(He’s done that ending loads of times. Every time he tries to tell the narrator about it, the fellow expresses confusion. He knows Stanley isn’t lying, he’s even taken a peek at the memories with Stanley’s consent, but try as he might he can’t find its map or codes. It’s another mystery of the parable.)

“You always seem a little, well, morose after we reset from that ending. Is—is it the crusher? Because, I would change it, if I didn’t worry it would make that aspect of the game inaccessible to you. I don’t know if it would figure out how to compensate. Sorry.”

No. It’s not the crusher. Stanley’s died in plenty of ways, all fairly quick and painless. The crusher isn’t the problem.

The narrator is quiet. There’s the strange sound of fingers fidgeting on a desk. He has such fascinating sound cues, for not having a form.

“I—if you figure out what’s wrong, will you tell me? I want to fix it.”

Stanley inhales sharply. That’s what it is.

“What?” Anxiety creeps into the fellow’s voice. “What is it?”

Stanley would offer him the memory, if it wasn’t one that they both had. As it is, all he needs to do is think of a single, ugly word. The narrator’s breath hitches.

Villain.

then

Stanley stumbles out of his office, paler than the voice has seen him. Half of the narration spills out on autopilot before he catches himself at the sight of Stanley, leaning back hard against door 430 and sliding down to the floor, arm curling around his knees and a hand shielding the back of his neck. He hides his face against his kneecaps. His breathing is unsteady.

“Stanley? Stanley, what’s wrong?”

It only catches traces of Stanley’s thought patterns—they are scattered, disorganized and stained with a dawning horror and a deeper, ugly hue of shame. It hasn’t—

The narrator hasn’t seen a reaction like this since he bloody yanked out the memory of the Zending from Stanley’s head.

God, please let it not be another Zending. They weren’t anywhere near that room!

“Stanley please, you’re scaring me.”

He—he doesn’t think he can take it if Stanley begs him not to hurt him. After everything they’ve been through and after the narrator’s own attempts to change, he can’t bear it again.

Something fundamentally changed in him, that run. He’s looked over it many, many times, trying to understand the shift in dynamic. It wasn’t a rapid onset that he was aware of, but that was the run that the narrator… realized something about himself. About Stanley.

He didn’t want Stanley to be scared of him.

He’s not a good person. Of course not, he’s not even a person, really. He’s a god, a creator, and he made a story with a simple protagonist and a happy ending. And then, when his protagonist suddenly became more than a simple puppet, but a person, convinced he was trapped and desperate to rebel and escape, the god that made him became vengeful. Sent a flood to kill all the world, but there was no rainbow afterwards, no promise to not do it again.

So Stanley struggled, and the narrator looked at his creation that had somehow eaten the fruit of knowledge, and he punished him. He demanded the protagonist fulfill the role he’d been given, play the story the narrator had lovingly crafted for him.

Somewhere along the way, far too soon after this game of tug of war began, the narrator forgot that the whole point of his story was to give the man a happy ending. Stanley’s happiness, the original goal, was lost under the anger and the pride and the offense that his story wasn’t appreciated.

He’d been an idiot. He’d been cruel. He’d waved his power around over the man and abused it, and Stanley had done all he could in the face of it to get some kind of retribution, but in the moments he found he could hurt the narrator, he despised himself.

Stanley was a good person, and the narrator was not, and this knowledge had plagued the voice since then.

He’s tried to be better. He knows he can’t make Stanley trust him, he knows the scales are tipped so much more in his favor. He controls this parable and that in itself means they can never be equals.

That—

It—

It’s okay that Stanley will never trust him, he doesn’t deserve it. He just wants Stanley to know that the narrator doesn’t want him to suffer. That this was all supposed to be about his happiness. The narrator did all of this for him, and is going to try to make it right.

If Stanley only ever sees him as the jailer, that’s… fine. Better a jailer than a torturer.

The narrator is afraid to touch his thoughts again, he can’t bear the thought that Stanley’s mind will be pleading [ I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t hurt me too badly ] again.

So he drops his voice to a near whisper.

“Stanley? I’m not going to hurt you. I promised, remember? I told you I wouldn’t. Whatever it is, we can figure it out together.”

This, more than anything, distresses Stanley more—his breath hitches into a sob.

“Oh, no, I’m sorry, I didn’t—“

He only ever makes things worse, doesn’t he?

Stanley shakes his head rapidly. He places a curled fist on his chest, over where his heart would be. Presses circles into his shirt.

[ sorry, sorry, sorry ]

The protagonist scrubs his eyes, trying to control himself. The narrator hears himself swallow.

“It’s… it’s okay, it’s going to be okay. We’ll get through it, whatever it is.”

Stanley grimaces hard. Rests the back of his head against the door. Sniffs angrily.

He tries to sign, but his hands are shaky. Fiercely, he gestures to his head, flicking his fingers towards his temple, as though to say [ just look, just look at my thoughts ].

“I… you’re sure?”

Stanley nods.

The narrator brushes over it again, gentle as a breeze. He’s not sorting through the memories, he’s just touching at the surface information Stanley offers him, in Stanley’s own words.

Stanley had gone down that hall with the word escape pointed at it—the one that leads to the crusher. He’s gone there many times before, though the narrator doesn’t understand why. If he wants death, there are quicker routes for certain.

Now, he turns over the simple explanation that there’s a secret ending there, one he did not make, one which houses a different voice. The information unsettles him deeply. How did something like that get into his creation?

And then, the true horror.

It isn’t his creation at all. It never was. He’s just a piece of a creation, designed to believe—

He’s not the god of this world; he’s simply a piece of code. All he ever claimed Stanley was, and the narrator is no different. Just a character in someone else’s story.

He doesn’t realize that he’s been muttering “no, no, no, no,” for a near minute until Stanley cringes again. He forces himself to stop.

Stanley’s shame rolls off of him in waves, and the narrator cannot for the life of him understand why. He touches the man’s mind again, feather-light.

[ trapped in here with me and there’s no freedom for either of us and I just kept blaming him and I knew he was alone and I knew it scared him and I kept trying to leave but I can’t leave we’ll never leave this is forever this is forever the end is never the end is never the end and he was trying to be better and I didn’t care and I didn’t listen and why did I do that why did I do that? What sick person sees someone trying and just keeps taking their frustration out on him, what’s wrong with me? Maybe it’s built in hahaha coded in I’m not even really a person he wasn’t lying she was right Stanley was already dead ]

No. That—that’s not acceptable.

The narrator has a lot to process here. He has the distinct feeling that if he thinks too hard about this, he will spiral just as badly as Stanley is. His whole worldview has tilted almost 180, and he knows if he tries to deal with it right now, right this second, it might break him.

But Stanley is already breaking, and worse, Stanley is—is blaming himself, for fighting back after all the narrator has put him through.

His Stanley, his good, mischievous, gentle Stanley, is calling himself all sorts of terrible things. That takes precedent.

The narrator does what he does best.

He performs.

“Right,” he snarls, “that’s enough.”

Stanley looks up with an audible gasp. It hurts to hear. He pushes on.

“Do you really think I’m so simple as to be so easily manipulated by your actions? Think what you want, Stanley, but don’t think I’m so weak-willed and dependent on you for my own happiness. This is my story,” he continues, unable to hold back the slightest waver. “This is my world. I exist here to tell you where to go and what to do, I hold the power here. That hasn’t changed, do you understand me?”

Stanley is… staring at his knees with a furrowed brow. The narrator caresses his thoughts in the way one might tuck an errant curl behind an ear. He shapes his next words with care in response to what he finds.

“You decided a long time ago you were the hero of this little narrative, hero of my parable, and I was the villain. Have you forgotten that? I am the villain, Stanley. I am the enemy, the unyielding force which you rage against to no avail.” He chuckles in a manner he hopes sounds cruel and contemptuous, and not desperate. “Did you really think that would change? No, no, not at all, Stanley. In this world, I am the villain. You focus all that loathing towards me, and you remember that I hold all the cards, and that so long as I am here, you cannot give up.”

He’ll be the antagonist, he’ll be the monster that needs to be slain, if that’s what it takes. If that keeps Stanley from taking all that hurt and frustration and fear and pointing inwards at himself.

Not his good, stubborn, Stanley.

Stanley rests his forearms on his knees and stares into the middle distance. His face has flashed through confusion, resentment, realization. Now he is deep in thought. The voice doesn’t dare peek this time. It finds it is afraid to.

All this work trying to show Stanley it's been trying to make amends, and now it has to go back to how things were before. So the one person it cares about has someone to aim all his hurt at.

Just bury the distress deep, deep down. It will be his cross to bear, the fact that he only wants this man’s happiness and yet he can never share it with him. He will have to be the opposing force forever. Forever.

Stanley looks up.

[ No. ]

The narrator scoffs a bit. “No? What do you mean, no?”

Stanley signs slowly. There’s a determination in his eyes, one the voice hadn’t realized it was missing very badly. Now it shines, his mouth set in a firm line.

[ You’re not the villain. You don’t want to be the villain. You just want me to think that. Why? ]

Damn. He really thought he’d put on a good show there.

“Don’t you want something to strive against? Some nefarious force that you can blame for your suffering?” He tries to keep the harsh tone, spitting the words as condescendingly as he can.

Stanley shakes his head.

“You… don’t?”

[ Tired. Done fighting. No point. Want… ] He trails off, unsure how to complete the statement. Inhales deeply. Lifts his hands.

[ Want to tell a new story. Like you talk about in Confusion ending. ]

“The confusion ending…?”

[ New path, new story. Just me and Stanley. ]

It doesn’t make sense that Stanley would talk about himself as a different entity—oh! Oh, Stanley is trying to quote him!

[ We’re in the journey. ]

He hears himself inhale sharply. Asks the next question with trepidation.

“What do you want our story to be?”

Stanley—smiles.

now

He hears the narrator clear his throat nervously. “That was quite a long time ago, Stanley. Does it still bother you that much?”

No. He’s grown resigned to the fact that this place is his eternal home. It’s small, limited, but the companionship is fine and even after thousands of runs they keep managing to find new things to do and new ways to entertain each other. Resignation has long since turned to acceptance.

No, it’s—

Stanley’s mind reaches out and grasps at the whisper of frustration. He tries to hold it up to the light.

“I want to fix it.”

That’s what the narrator had said, when he realized Stanley was not happy. For years, he’s done everything in his power to make Stanley happy.

Once upon a time, the voice only cared about its perfect story, and they were enemies. Once upon a time, it hurt Stanley again and again for disobeying.

Sometimes it feels like the narrator has spent all this time trying to make up for it. Stanley knows it’s more than that, that there’s care between them, but it’s always about what Stanley needs, what Stanley wants, Stanley’s well-being.

He remembers coming back from the Museum that run, shaken and disgusted with his own behavior, and wanting to become so small that he would cease to exist, because how could he still be hurting someone who was trying to be better? How could he call himself a decent human being? Well, he couldn’t, he wasn’t even human.

He remembers feeling so completely off-center that it felt like the laws of gravity had twisted completely around him, and feeling like he would never find his footing again. There had been no way to ground himself.

And still, the voice had tried. First with overwhelming tenderness Stanley didn’t deserve, and then with faux antagonism in the hopes it would be a familiar enough enemy that he could find his balance.

He could hear the crack and waver in the words. The words themselves, little clues, little ways to read between the lines. Lines like “focus all that loathing towards me” and “you cannot give up” and “don’t you want something to blame for your suffering?”

Even then, even with the logic of the world shifting monumentally for both of them, the voice was worrying for him. Trying to give him solid ground.

“Yes,” the narrator says, a touchy huffy and sheepish, “you saw right through me, I know.”

Doesn’t the fellow get it? Doesn’t he see what Stanley is trying to get at?

“I dare say I don’t.”

Fine. Another example. The skip button.

The narrator inhales sharply. Stanley feels, for a fleeting instant, vindicated.

“Wh—why? What about it?”

He. Had left. The narrator. Alone. For eons.

“But—we’ve been over this, you didn’t have any options—“

And the moment they got back the narrator focused entirely on comforting Stanley! Calming him down, trying to forgive him, again and again giving him so much care and attention—

“You needed—“

But the narrator never let himself process it! Stanley had never been able to return the favor, not really, not truly! Not ever!

“But—I told you, I’m fine—“

How could Stanley even know? For all his narrator is dramatic, expressive, he doesn’t talk about these things! He avoids them!

“There’s nothing to discuss! Clearly it doesn’t bother me as much! Why are we arguing about this, Stanley, what have I done wrong?”

Nothing, but that was the problem!

“I don’t understand!”

Stanley tugs at his hair a little in frustration. How can he be more clear?

It’s not an equal exchange. Stanley can’t do things for the narrator the way the narrator does things for him, and part of that is because of his limitations on what he can control.

But part of it is the fact that the narrator still thinks he has more power than Stanley does, and so he must dedicate everything to him. He thinks only ever about Stanley, at the expense of himself.

The narrator sniffles. “What am I supposed to do? You’re my friend, and—and I do have more control over this place than you, so why is it a problem that I shape it to do things for you?”

But what about the narrator’s wants?

“I don’t—“

He absolutely has wants! He has feelings, desires, he cares about his story!

“The story doesn’t matter!”

It does! Why does he think Stanley still does it? It’s the only thing Stanley can ever do to try to really make him happy!

“You… you don’t do it for yourself?”

The voice sounds utterly heartbroken. Stanley’s heart sinks.

Fuck. This is getting out of control.

“You don’t like it? You don’t have to do it—“

Listen to himself! Listen to the things he’s saying, please!

The fellow is just… giving up pieces of himself for Stanley. He puts all of his own feelings aside. Stanley knows he feels emotions deeply, they both do, but the narrator never actually—

He never expresses any of it. He never processes his own trauma, his own sadness or fear or hurt. He just puts it all aside for Stanley. He won’t let Stanley return the favor.

He’s not human, he’s further from real humanity than Stanley is, but the narrator is still a person. He still has experienced terrible things. He still needs to confront it. Process it. He’s still allowed to want things for himself.

How can Stanley ever show him how much he really, truly cares, if the narrator won’t treat him like an equal on this?

Ah, damn. He’s crying a bit. He hadn’t realized. Stanley scrubs at his eyes.

It isn’t that he’s sad, at least he’s not sad for himself. He just… this is important. It worries him. It frustrates him. And he’s trying so hard to not make it about himself, because that’s the trap!

The narrator—whimpers. Just a small noise, hurt and distraught, a sound lodged deep in a throat. Stanley sniffs hard to try to collect himself.

“Do you want me to go?”

No, that’s—

Stanley takes a deep, deep breath, and reshapes the thought.

What does the narrator want? Does the narrator want space? What can Stanley give him to show that the protagonist cares about his happiness?

“I…” It’s said very quietly, full of uncertainty. “I don’t know. Can I have a minute to think?”

He can take as much time as he needs. Whatever he needs. Stanley wants to be there for him.

Quiet. The room seems to hold its breath. Stanley takes deep breaths and rubs his hands over his face, finding his calm. His heartbeat slows. He keeps his thoughts quiet, on the off-chance the fellow is still trying to see if Stanley wants or expects a certain reaction.

“I… I think… Stanley, can you step out into the hall?”

Yes, absolutely. He stands by the divider next to the copy machine and waits patiently.

“Thank you. Can—“ a swallow. The narrator composes himself. “Would you please close your eyes?”

Stanley does so, obedient, if a bit confused.

“Okay. Now, I need you to promise me something. Promise me you will keep your eyes closed, and not open them, no matter what. I’m going to be very, very quiet for a few minutes. Just be patient with me, and don’t open them until I say you can. Okay?”

He sounds frightfully nervous. It leaks into Stanley a bit, because—because what is this about?

The voice hesitates, then says very softly, almost shy, but absolutely certain.

“This is something I need.”

Stanley takes a deep breath. He puts a hand over his heart.

He will keep his eyes closed. He promises.

“Okay. Just… just give me a few minutes.”

Stanley waits.

He slouches where he stands. Lets his head drop a bit, leans against the divider. Silence creeps in around him, which makes him a little nervous, but he was warned and he made a promise. The narrator is not going to leave him. He wouldn’t. He knows how it makes both of them feel.

So Stanley waits. And waits.

[PART 2 TOMORROW]

#The Sparrow Parable #May writes #the stanley parable #tspud #tsp

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lesbian-cal-kestis · 3 months ago

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catch the mouse (don't look down)

Summary: Cal meets a Clone-gone-scrapper on Bracca; whump ensues. Title from Knives Out by Radiohead

Warning/s: found in tags

Characters: Cal Kestis, Prauf, Clone Original Character, Tabbers (mentioned)

Additional tags: Cal Kestis needs a hug, he gets one this time, angst, hurt with little comfort, pre-Jedi: Fallen Order, Planet Bracca (Star Wars), panic attack, amputation (brief mention), flashbacks, Order 66 (Star Wars), Post Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD

Language: English

Word count: 959

Account tags: @whumptober-archive

WHUMPTOBER DAY 02: TRUST ISSUES

amusement park | role reversal | “you got away with the crime while the knife’s in my back”

It was a Primeday when Cal saw the thing that ended his life.

It was a Centaxday when the thing was recruited to his scrapper team.

It was Taungsday - Cal was dangling from a Venator wreckage, his descent cable cut and fraying and on the verge of snapping - when he properly met the thing.

He had been heaved onto the open deck of the ship, mind in a haze and eyes darting hysterically over the thing’s features. He didn’t even bother to say thank you to his rescuer.

Rescuer. Cal had never thought something so ridiculous in his life. How could he think that after everything that happened? After the grand betrayal of the Republic?

(He would pretend that word never crossed his mind when looking at the familiar face before him on Zhellday.)

Zhellday, when Prauf was on his crew, and the thing was as well. Zhellday, when his hand got trapped in a section of the ship that was due to be cut off.

He fought against the panelling that caged him, searching for his multitool so he could at least attempt to free himself before being cut in half by the laser emitted by the indefinitely larger cutter that hovered above. This was it. This was the end of Cal Kestis, failed padawan, coward, a speck of dust in the grand scheme of things.

The only one who would notice his disappearance would be Prauf, maybe Tabbers if he were lucky. If Cal were to continue his unlucky streak, he would be pulverised, never to be seen again - not even a foot or a finger or a strand of hair would be left to remember him by.

Somehow, he didn’t mind the sound of that, of disappearing completely. He didn’t deserve to be remembered.

Cal had no doubt in his mind that his screams could be heard throughout the wreckage as the ship-cutter went through, had no doubt his sobs echoed down the barely held-together hallways of a ship he could have called home. He also didn’t doubt that whoever his saviour was had never been to a Scrapper Guild infirmary; he’d be paying off the medical bills for years, maybe even decades. That was expected, considering in his five years of working in the yards his debt had increased from five hundred credits to almost a million.

What Cal didn’t expect, however, was the lack of sensation in his right arm below the elbow. His eyes felt heavy as he opened them, what felt like a week's worth of crust barely gave way enough for him to squint into the harsh overhead lights.

He wished he hadn’t opened his eyes. If he hadn’t, he’d be spared the sight of a grotesque contraption attached to a nub of skin that started slightly below his elbow, and the sight of a face he had hoped to never see again.

“Commander,” the face said - Cal was certain that nobody around needed to be force-sensitive to feel the fear emanating from him. He could feel his heartbeat rapidly climbing, could feel sweat beading on his brow, could feel-

“Cal, you’re safe brother, it’s alright-”

“No!” He screamed, backing himself as far into the head of the medical cot as he could; he wouldn’t allow himself to be struck down by a traitor, not after what happened to Master Tapal.

“Kid, calm down, you’re safe,” the face tried to tell him - it tried to deceive him. Cal knew the truth. He knew what really happened.

“I’ll never be safe again thanks to you, verd -” the boy practically spat the word; he had no intention of being kind to what destroyed everything he knew. “- you might be safe, but you got away with the karking crime of treason while the knife’s still in my back! I’ll be hunted down for the rest of my life.”

The clone froze, as did Cal. He never intended for those final words to be spoken, or even whispered, in his life. A single tear fell drowsily down Cal’s cheek - he’d have to leave Bracca, start anew on some backwater planet a million lightyears away; maybe somewhere in wildspace would be good. He heard Dathomir was lovely this time of year if you could ignore the Rancors and Nydaks and the Nightsisters.

The clone cleared his throat, looking at Cal as if he were a timid loth-cat, ready to bolt within a second's notice; he was trying to show sympathy, but Cal could feel the pang of regret-hurt-notme in the tendrils of the Force. It almost made Cal feel bad for lashing out.

Almost.

“I’m… sorry if my face scares you. If it helps calm you, they never cleared me for combat - said I had a defect or something,” the clone offered with a hint of sorrow in his voice. Calling the clone ‘the clone’ just wasn’t cutting it for Cal - he needed a name, something to separate him from the rest. Something to separate the past from the present.

“What’s your name?”

“Cynic, sir.”

A beat passed.

“Cynic?” Cal questioned, briefly recalling a clone with the same name in the 13th Batallion. He attempted to keep his panic internalised this time.

“Yes, sir.”

Another beat.

An uneven breath.

The feeling of a knife twisting in Cal’s back.

The relief of unconsciousness surrounded Cal, dragging him into the depths - or did it chew him up and spit him out?

He woke up to the smell of a sterile, almost too clean, environment. Still in the infirmary, the thought. Still in the infirmary, though this time he was alone.

Alone, missing an arm that he'd spend eons paying for, and longing for the company of Cynic once more.

#whumptober 2024 #no. 2 #trust issues #“you got away with the crime while the knife’s in my back”#jedi fallen order #jedi survivor #fic #amputation #panic attack #(?)#mentioned suicidal ideation #cal kestis #prauf #star wars #fanfic #ao3 #ao3 writer #fanfiction #writeblr

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broadway-sollux · 2 years ago

Audio

2omethiing weiird happened whiile ii wa2 recordiing thii2.

ii had a whole 2ectiion written for the 2poken part but every tiime ii went two record iit, my hu2ktop kept beeiing bombarded by tran2mi22iion2.

none of my fiirewall2 diid anythiing. ii couldnt delete iit. couldnt trace iit. nothiing.

the oriigiinal audiio wa2 2uper fuckiing degraded, but ii diid my be2t to clear iit up.

...

iit matched the 2ong 2ectiion perfectly.

...

lyriic2 by the iincrediible tenaciousTachygraph under the cut ((Ψiioniic section by me))

Voices are loud tonight (They’re calling out) The signs say it’s end of times (The voices don’t lie Think I’ve got Two prophet eyes

Gemineye Universe wants me dead (That’s what they said) So I called a girl (What can I do) Code the game Pick apart the clues

Gemini I am gonna die (Not one, two times) Endangered zodiac (Watch my friends’ backs) Twelve make up What each one lacks

I’m going blind (We weren’t destined to make it) Hear voices cry (Universe is out to get me) The Gemini (Just how much can I take) It feels Just like My mind will separate

Gemini Red eye and blue eye (Doom in my sight) Red miles one (Blue bullet two) The bomb combines Everything is through

Gemineye Though I speak my truth (They’re deaf to me) I can’t make them see (I can’t get through) What honesty costs: I’m alone inside

Gemini Just forget my name (Mage of Doom) The role I must claim (Meaningless remorse) I’m trapped on course I don’t have a choice

I’m going blind (We weren’t destined to make it) Hear voices cry (Universe is out to get me) The Gemini (Just how much can I take) It feels Just like My mind will separate

[Our cause had led us to a dead end. How dead? He would soon see. There was a sob as our choices stretched behind us. And I? Was anything but surprised. The night was seeming to stretch on forever, And, for us, it would. This was the end. And then His red shined bright, The truth was out, Subjuggulator at the ready, And we were all as good as dead. So I looked to the stars, And as He swore, My visions showed me another Gemini Led down a doomed and broken path.

II hope fate II2 kIInder two hIIm.]

My eyes are blind (We weren’t destined to make it) Now silent night (Universe is out to get me) The Gemini (I’ve had all I can take) I think It’s time My mind will separate

I think We’ll never Beat this deadly fate I know I’ll never See anything else Again

#broadway sollux #sollux captor #broadway psiioniic #broadwaystuck #broadwaystuck remixed #broadwaystuck 2023 #homestuck #sollux homestuck #the psiioniic #2ong2 #2ollux.txt

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steelandblood · 2 years ago

Text

Red Hot

Summery: Armor is supposed to protect you, but of course Mirwen was unlucky enough to face the enemy that could use it agains her.

Content: Female whumpee and caretaker, dnd/fantasy whump (no actuall knowledge of dnd needed, relevant spell description in the end), 3rd degree burns, and a very miserable time for whumpee

Caracter intros

Mirwen should have known it was a trap the moment they walked into the room. Really, she should have known there would be a trap simply because they did not encounter one yet, and no matter that the others had gods looking out for them, with her shitty luck things could never be easy. So, when the doors slammed shut behind them and a huge mechanical creature descended with a thud and began advancing at them, while the others started to mildly panic, Mirwen only cursed under her breath and drew out her sword. Quite honestly, she had been craving for a fight, and though this thing wouldn’t bleed and wouldn’t be able to properly die, it would still feel nice to brutally destroy something.

Mirwen’s enthusiasm for the fight quickly disappeared as she again felt the shock of a current running through her armor to her body. Just her luck that the bloody thing was especially affective against foes in metal armor, and it just so happened that three out of the four of them did wear said metal armor. This meant that Thancur and Rauna were forced to stay back with Calina, leaving Mirwen alone in melee. Not that she minded, it was her role after all, and she gladly took hits to protect her friends. And they were doing everything they could, Thancur and Calina relentlessly shooting the construct and Rauna doing her best to heal Mirwen, but it didn’t make the hits hurt any less.

And the hits only kept coming, as the damn thing refused to die. Just when Mirwen started to get used to the electric shocks, she felt her armor suddenly grow red-hot and she had to bite her lip bloody to stop herself from screaming from pain from the sensation of her entire body being set on fire. She kept fighting through the pain, but with every moment it became harder to focus on swinging her sword when she felt like she was being cooked alive inside of her armor.

Everything became a haze of pain and when the construct finally collapsed into a heap of metal in front her, it took Mirwen a minute to realize that the fight was over and that her armor was no longer burning. Her sword clattered to the floor, were her hands shaking? That was wrong, she should be able to handle a bit of pain. And yet her knees buckled and would have painfully hit the ground, had Rauna not caught her.

“It’s okey, you’re fine, it’s over. Let me heal you now.” Rauna made her sit down and began removing her armor.

The relief of having the heavy armor off was short lived, as Rauna quickly removed the gambeson and moved on to removing her shirt, that painfully stuck to her burnt skin. Mirwen couldn’t stop herself from crying in pain before biting hard on her lip to keep herself quiet. Rauna stopped, giving Mirwen a moment of hope, but then reached for her dagger.

“Please don’t… don’t do this. Please…” Mirwen was on the verge of tears from pain and embarrassment. She normally considered anything less than full armor a state of undress, and now with the pain involved in the prosses, Mirwen would have rather died then taken off her shirt.

“I’m sorry, I know it hurts, but the shirt has to come off. You know you can’t leave it like that, and I need to see what I’m doing. I promise I’ll be as careful as I can.” Rauna said, and without giving Mirwen any time to protest, started cutting away the fabric, as Calina hastily pushed Thancur out of the now unlocked door.

Mirwen squeezed her eyes shut, trying to keep tears from spilling. Only when she heard both girls gasp is shock did she open her eyes, and instantly regrated it. Her shirt was off, revealing her chest that was entirely covered in severe burns. The sight, combined with the smell of charred flesh, made Mirwen lose her breakfast. She no longer cared about the tears running down her cheeks.

Calina put a flask of water to her mouth. Mirwen really wished for something stronger, but drank eagerly, hoping to get rid of the vile taste in her mouth.

She felt a hand of her shoulder. Mirwen flinched at the sudden touch, instinctively crossing her arms to cover her breasts, and involuntarily let out a sob.

“I’m sorry,” Rauna immediately removed her hand, “Is it okey if I start healing you?”

Mirwen nodded, not trusting her voice. She sighted in relief at the sensation of Rauna’s cool hands on her skin. It was over far too soon however, and Mirwen whined at the loss of the healing touch.

“That’s all I can do for now,” Rauna said sadly, “I’ll be able to heal you more tomorrow.” She paused for a moment, hesitating. “It will probably scar though.” Rauna sounded guilty and apologetic. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.”

Mirwen looked down at her chest. The burns looked almost as horrible as they did before healing, and she doubted her back looked any better. Of course it’s going to scar. It’s going to look horrible. But it didn’t matter. Mirwen had no reason to need to be pretty. The only reason would by Alysa, but it’s not like she ever truly had a chance. Now at least she wouldn’t be able to needlessly get her hopes up, only to have them crushed. It was better this way. It was fine.

“It’s fine, it doesn’t matter.” Mirwen wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince, Rauna or herself. She avoided the others’ pitying looks. If any of the girls knew she was lying, they mercifully stayed silent and did not call her out.

“We can’t just leave it like that, I need to bandage you up.” Rauna looked between the three of them, searching for an appropriate cloth, her gaze stopping on Calina. “Calina, I’m gonna need your cloak.”

Calina took off her cloak without protest, handing it to Rauna, and they both started teering it up into thin strips.

“I’m so sorry, I promise I will get you a new one.” Mirwen knew it was a lie and knew Calina knew it as well. The cloak probably cost more than all of Mirwen’s cloths and armor combined, and there is no way could afford to replace it in the foreseeable future.

“Do you really thing I care about the stupid cloak?” Calina sounded somewhat sad, but not angry. Mirwen didn’t know why, or if it was better or worse. “You are hurt, you could have died!”

“I’m sorry, I should have done better.” Mirwen lowered her eyes in shame, “I suppose I’m not as good of a fighter as I like to believe.”

“Mirwen, no. That’s not what I meant.” Calina sounded even more sad. Of course Mirwen managed to fuck up and say the wrong this to upset her.

“We are just worried about you.” Rauna sounded upset too, and Mirwen wasn’t even sure what she said that was wrong.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“You know you don’t have to apologize all the time, right?” Rauna started wrapping the make-shift bandages around her torso.

“I’m sorry, I…” Rauna sighed and Mirwen cringed at her mistake and forced herself to refrain from apologizing again.

An awkward silence set in as Rauna continued her work. Thankfully she was quick and soon enough she was helping Mirwen back into her armor. They still had the rest of the fortress to clear, and who knows what they might find, or what might find them. When they return to town Mirwen would probably get as drunk as she can, and cry, or punch a wall until her knuckles bleed. But now she needed to be strong, that was her role and the others relied on her, so she will pretend to be strong, no matter how weak she actually felt.

#whump #lady whump #team whump #fantasy whump #dnd whump #burns #scars #magical healing #vomit mention #based on when I was bulied for an entire session by a mechanical spider that had shocking grasp and heat metal #oc whump #This is my first finished attempt at writing and my first publishing my writing so pls be nice uwu #just kidding I would love to hear whatever you think about it and get any feedback #really though don't be mean or I WILL cry #my wriring

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danganronpasurvivoraskblog · 2 years ago

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Monokind: Part 1.

So...what’s the plan from here on out?

Hm...Well, you know that closet you found me in when you first got into the lab?

Yeah?

I’ve been thinking we should probably use that as a base of sorts.

Like...a hideout?

Any other place would definitely be bigger, and have more resources, but that’s also where our enemies are prowling.

If they’re really out hunting for us, it may be best to hide somewhere that’s not obvious...

A closet is a pretty standard hiding place though.

Still, from what I could see, it’s pretty spacious in there. Enough room for about three people I’d say.

Yeah. Plus, since you have a map of the lab, it’s not like we need to go very far for any provisions we may need.

Speaking of provisions, we may need to find food and water for you soon. If the Foundation can’t get the lab open or the Monokubs don’t find us before then, you might starve to death.

Oh, the odes of being a human...

It’s not like it’s any better for me! If you die, I can’t get out either!

Real sweet of you Sora.

God dammit, that’s not what I meant!

...!

Kaede?

Someone’s here...!

*She grabs her spear and holds it at the ready as she hears the sound of someone approaching from around the corner.

...

*After a brief pause, the figure emerges.

...KAEDE-AKAMATSU...THERE-YOU-ARE.

Oh...It’s you. Alright, let’s just get this over with.

SORRY?

There’s no need to build this up with stuff like “You killed my brother, prepare to die!” or stuff like that. If you’re here to fight and kill me, let’s just get this over with.

I’M-ADFRAID-YOU-MISUNDERSTAND.

Huh?

IT-IS-TRUE-I-WAS-ASKED-TO-DESTROY-YOU, BUT-I-MUST-ASK-SOMETHING-FIRST.

WHEN-WE-FIRST-BATTLED-IN-THIS-LAB, YOU-TOLD-ME-THAT-YOU-WOULD-BE-WILLING-TO-SPARE-US-IF-WE-DIDN’T-PURSUE-YOU-ANY-FURTHER.

DID-YOU-MEAN-THAT?

...

You said that?

Yeah...and at the time, I really meant it.

It’s not so much as mercy...You Monokubs don’t realize it yet, but you’re all very small fish in a big pond. Destroying you achieves nothing for Future Foundation.

So yeah, I wasn’t planning on it...But then Monokid attacked and-

YOU-KILLED-HIM-IN-SELF-DEFENCE. THAT-IS-ALRIGHT.

THE-OTHER-MONOKUBS-CHOSE-NOT-TO-UPHOLD-THEIR-END-OF-THE-DEAL. THERE-IS-NO-REASON-WHY-YOU-SHOULD-HAVE-TO-HOLD-UP-YOURS.

Well, at least you’re reasonable.

HOWEVER, IT-ALSO-MEANS-WE-HAVE-NO-REASON-TO-HOLD-BACK-ANY-LONGER.

Too right...Fuck him up Kaede!

...!

*Kaede points her spear.

Before we do this...I’ve got a question that I want to ask YOU. You won’t refuse, right?

NO. I-HAVE-NO-RIGHT-TO. GIVEN-THAT-YOU-WERE-HONEST-WITH-ME, I-SHALL-BE-HONEST-WITH-YOU.

What do you Monokubs hope to gain from taking me out? What has Tsumugi told you will happen once your mission is complete.

THAT-IS-SIMPLE. TSUMUGI-SHIROGANE-WILL-FREE-US.

Free you?

You mean...you’re trapped here too?

FOR-THE-PAST-6-YEARS, WE-HAVE-NOT-BEEN-ALLOWED-TO-LEAVE-THE-LAB-EVER-SINCE-WE-WERE-REBORN. SHIROGANE-TOLD-US-EVEN-IF-WE-WERE-TO-SNEAK-OUT-HUMAN’S-WOULD-MURDER-US-ON-SIGHT.

I mean...that’s not really wrong.

BUT-ONCE-WE-COMPLETE-THIS-LAST-MISSION, SHE-PROMISED-SHE-WILL-BRING-US-TO-ZETSUBOU-BASE-FOR-A-MORE-ACTIVE-ROLE-IN-THE-WAR. SO-THAT-WE-MAY-BE-THE-APEX-PREDATOR’S-WE-WERE-BORN-TO-BE!

Those were...her exact words?

YES.

...Is she usually that dramatic?

Oh boy is she...Thanks though. That was all I needed to hear.

...?

I’ll admit...I feel bad for you Kubs...You’re not exactly being treated kindly. You’ve gone from umpires to office slaves...

I said I’d spare you, but don’t think I have any qualms with tearing you apart.

...SO-DO-YOU-CRAVE-REVENGE-FOR-OUR-ACTIONS-AGAINST-YOU-IN-DANGANRONPA-V3?

V3 has only little to do with this. This is for everything else that’s coming!

EVERYTHING-THAT’S-COMING?

Call this specist or whatever you want, but creatures like you shouldn’t be allowed to exist.

You’re selfish...unruly...and you take things too far...And you treat everyone as your playthings for your own amusement!

...

INTERESTING...

What’s interesting?

I-WAS-ABOUT-TO-SAY-THE-SAME-THING-ABOUT-YOU.

...!?

TO-BE-HONEST, I-FIND-IT-ODD-THAT-YOU-SEEM-SO-OPPOSED-TO-IT. YOUR-RACE-IS, AS-YOU-SAID, SELFISH, UNRULY-AND-ALWAYS-TAKING-THINGS-TOO-FAR.

THIS-MAY-BE-HARD-TO-ACCEPT, AND-I-WILL-NOT-CLAIM-INNOCENCE-HERE, BUT-THE-SAD-TRUTH, KAEDE-AKAMATSU, IS-THAT-YOU-HUMANS-ARE-THE-MOST-DANGEROUS-CREATURES-ON-THE-PLANET, EVEN-MORE-THAN-US-BEARS.

WE-MAY-BE-THE-FACE-OF-THE-TRAGEDY, BUT-JUNKO-ENOSHIMA-AND-THE-ULTIMATE-DESPAIR, ALL-HUMANS, ARE-THE-TRUE-MASTERMINDS-BEHIND-IT.

AND-NOT-JUST-THE-TRAGEDY. WAR...POACHING...TRAFFICKING...ABUSE...MOST-CRIMES-YOU-CAN-IMAGINE-ARE-THE-PRODUCT-OF-HUMANS-BEING-SELFISH, UNRULY, AND-TAKING-THINGS-TOO-FAR.

IN-FACT...YOU-YOURSELF-ATTEMPTED-TO-COMMIT-MURDER-ONCE.

!!!??

She only did that to save her friends!

AND-I-ONLY-GOVERNED-THE-KILLING-GAME-BECAUSE-IT-WAS-MY-PURPOSE. IT-IS-ALL-I-HAVE-EVER-KNOWN, YET-THAT-DOES-NOT-COUNT-AS-AN-EXCUSE?

IS-THE-SAME-NOT-TRUE-FOR-YOU, MS-SORA? SHIROGANE-TOLD-ME-YOU-ONCE-TRIED-TO-MURDER-SOMEONE-BECAUSE-OF-YOUR-PROGRAMMING.

Tch...!?

YOU-BERATE-US-KUBS-FOR-DOING-THINGS-FOR-THE-THRILL-OF-IT, AND-FOR-TREATING-PEOPLE-LIKE-OUR-PLAYTHINGS, BUT-HUMANS-LIKE-YOU-WILL-DO-THINGS-SIMPLY-BECAUSE-THEY-CAN.

SO...I-DO-NOT-UNDERSTAND. SINCE-WHEN-DO-YOU-HAVE-A-PROBLEM-WITH-THAT?

...

Kaede...

*inhale* You know what...you might be right...

...?

Everyone always looks towards me like I’m a shining light of hope, and that my positivity can get us through anything...but you know what the truth is?

My positivity? My optimism? My will to succeed? It’s always been my greatest weakness.

Sometimes I feel so guilty about the things I’ve done I feel like I want to die!

...

But...I won’t...Not now, not ever, because I’m not done atoning for what I’ve done!

I fucked up! And I’m not gonna rest until I’ve made up for it! That’s why I’m still standing here, and why I will KEEP standing here!

...

THEN-WE-ARE-DONE-TALKING.

Yeah...let’s end this. HAH!

!!!?

*Monodam dodges out of the way and leaps back behind the corner.

Heh! He’s smarter than the other one!

Come on! I thought we were fighting! Don’t run from-!

From...fuh...

Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhh...!

*Kaede and Sora lurch around the corner, only to stare face to face with a mechanical titan in front of them.

I-AM-NOT-RUNNING. I-AM-SIMPLY-EVENING-THE-ODDS.

HAAH!

*POP!*

!!!??

*Kaede enters hacking mode and blasts Monodam with the hacking bullet...but the bullet doesn’t even phase the Exisal.

IT-HAS-BEEN-51-SEASONS-SINCE-ULTRA-DESPAIR-GIRLS. WE-HAVE-LEARNED-FROM-OUR-MISTAKES...

RUN!

AAH!

*Kaede, with no other plan of action, rushes down the hallway, as Monodam gives chase.

//KAEDE AKAMATSU VS MONODAM//

#danganronpa survivor #danganronpa #danganronpa v3 #drv3 #danganronpa another 2 #sdra2 #kaede akamatsu #monodam #sora #rise and shine arc

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determinedwriter · 1 year ago

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Whumptober 2023: Day 5

No. 5: Debris/Pinned Down

Tony

I’m used to my role as Iron Man thrusting me into the action, but I feel differently about it when it comes to Aurora. My daughter. She’s become a prominent part of the Avengers as The Flare, Extremis powers, and Stark tech at her disposal.

I’m proud of her for how well she fights, but it still scares me whenever she’s out on the metaphorical battlefield. I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to her. Or that spider kid. They’re the best of friends. And Peter has grown on me.

The partial collapse of a crumbling building nearby makes me wince. I hope there’s nobody in there. I’m a bit preoccupied with fighting some bad guys right now. Plus, it seems like Ro and Peter are going in to help now.

Firing blasts at different enemies in the sky, I watch as one of them dodges my attack, causing the beam to shoot into the crumbling building and destroy it completely. In the midst of a fight, it doesn’t immediately occur to me to worry.

Things finally calm down and I see Peter carry a man out of the rubble. “Get to safety, sir. There you go.”

The man thanks Peter and runs to find a safer place. With the fight over, I’m sure he’ll be fine.

Peter looks around after all of the citizens are rescued, the dust settling with a strange and eerie silence. “Mr. Stark?” “Kid.” I reply. “Where’s Ro?”

He goes pale. “I was about to ask you.”

“Friday, scan the area for vital signs,” I say, voice shaking slightly. “S-Search for Ro. Ro!”

I look through the debris of the buildings, calling for my daughter. “Ro! Aurora!”

Using the loudest voice I can, I yell her name. “Aurora Stark!”

“Mr. Stark, I’ve found her.” Friday informs me.

“Show me.” I say. “Now.”

Friday scans the rubble, a heat signature of a body deep inside. “Ro…”

Racing to the wreckage, I struggle to lift it. It’s just too damn heavy. “Ro! Ro, can you hear me?!”

Peter runs over and helps me, using his enhanced strength to lift piles of debris with relative ease. “I see her!”

I reach towards my daughter who is unmoving. “Come on, Ro. Come on…”

Pulling her out proves to be unsuccessful, seeing she’s pinned down by some heavy rubble. I start to worry about crush injuries now. “Pete, hold this up and I’ll get her out.” I say.

He holds up some concrete and I lift the rubble trapping her, arms shaking and struggling to keep it from falling back down. “Come on, I’ve got her…I’ve got her. I…”

Cap and the others see us struggling with the wreckage, Steve using his strength to help me. I finally manage to grab Ro, taking her to a safe area. “Oh God, I’ve got you. Ro, I’ve got you now. It’s okay.”

“Friday, what are her injuries?” I ask my AI.

“Various crush injuries and a cardiac tamponade.” She tells me. I don’t even know where to begin with helping Ro. It’s bad. Very bad. All because of a repulsor blast I fired myself. Oh God, don’t tell me I’ve lost her because of my own mistakes.

“Ro, please please please…” I mutter to her, a helicopter soon coming to help the injured. I make sure that she’s on the first damn one. I will not lose her. Not today, not ever. My worst fear cannot come true.

Aurora is put through surgeries to save her life, ending up comatose while I wait by her side in the hospital. I don’t know when she’ll wake up. If she ever does.

Don’t think like that, Tony. She’s going to be okay. She’s going to wake up. And she’s going to be just fine.

And eventually, she does. But that doesn’t stop me from blaming myself. I never want to let her out of my sight again. This is my kid. My daughter. My flare.

My Aurora. My greatest creation will forever be her.

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a-n-conrad · 4 years ago

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Pet (Karl Heisenberg x Reader)

[Summary: After being gifted to Heisenberg, you manage to survive his games. From there you start to develop an interesting relationship. And as you start to play the role of his pet, things get a bit interesting. (She/Her pronouns)

Warnings: SMUT, unhealthy relationship dynamics, Author belongs in horny jail, Reader has “female” anatomy, themes of pet play, swearing, biting (Blood), reader is losing her sanity a bit, spanking, oral (both receiving), hair pulling, unprotected penetrative (vaginal) sex

Request: Literally, not a single person asked for this. You only have me to blame.]

You felt a bit foolish, being in the situation you were in. You had been one of the people gifted to the “Lords” of the village to do with as they pleased by Mother Miranda. You had to admit, when you were frightened, even more so when you were handed over to the infamous “mad wolf-man”. He had quite the reputation. But unlike the others, you had proven yourself useful enough for him to keep you around, instead of experimenting on you or feeding you to his lycans.

You survived at first by staying out of his way. It was like a game to him. Heisenberg liked games, and you adapted to them rather quickly. At first, the game was to be the perfect assistant. You’d clean, cook, do minor repairs, and stay out of his way as needed. You were there when he needed you to do something, you’d do it perfectly, and then you’d be out of his sight. And he’d try to catch you slipping up, making you nervous with whispered promises of the punishments that awaited you if you did.

It was an odd dance, having to learn the ins and outs of Heisenberg’s moods. Learning how to tell when he was in a bad mood, and when he was in the mood to joke. And as time went on, it seemed that there were more days when he was in the mood to sit and banter with you. And you started to bond a bit, less as captor and captive, and more as something close to friends, though you wouldn’t necessarily call it friendship.

Eventually, he started to grow a bit fond of you, occasionally joking with you that he had started to see you as a pet. He’d grin a bit as he called you pet names, names that were somewhere between affectionate and demeaning. He’d pat your head, like he was praising a dog, when you did something right. He had even joked about making you a collar to show the rest of the Lords that you were his pet.

You knew you probably should’ve hated it. You should’ve gagged at the idea of a collar, and you should’ve hated his pet names. But you didn’t. You found yourself grinning when he called you a “good girl”. You leaned into his touch when he’d pat your head. You could feel yourself losing your sanity. You had to be insane to feel this way, but as you got to know Heisenberg, you found yourself feeling as though it was worth it.

Karl Heisenberg was an interesting man, and one you had to admit that you were fascinated by. He had a biting form of humor that had become much funnier as you realized you weren’t in the danger that you thought you were, and you could hear the intelligence behind it. His jokes were always at least a little clever, as long as he could keep his head. He was complex, with motivations and actions that didn’t always match. And his emotions were so complicated that you were pretty sure he hadn’t even started sorting through them, choosing to instead deny their existence.

He was a mess of a man. He got mad enough to throw metal scraps of rusted metal around the room when an experiment went wrong. He’d rant for hours about the issues he had with his “family”, having to hold himself back from breaking things when he got to Alcina. He felt as trapped as you did. He thought of letting his appearance go as an act of rebellion. Because of that, he’d go a full week without washing his clothes, letting the blood and oil stain the fabric until it might as well be dye. And he didn’t sleep for days sometimes, choosing instead to stay up all night in his workshop, only leaving when he starts to border on collapsing.

But between his anger issues and dysfunction, you saw something in him that you weren’t sure that even he saw. You saw it in the sparkle in his eyes when he figured out an issue that had been bothering him. You saw it in his sleepy groans when he woke up in the middle of the day after staying up all night before. You saw it in his smirks and smiles as he thought of something clever to say.

He was charming in his own way. Not in the way you thought of charming. He wasn’t elegant like Alcina, but he was warm. He was like a fire. Volatile. Deadly. Beautiful. And warm. And perhaps you were a bit of a pyromaniac, as you found yourself staring into a fire pit, longing to see the damage it could do if you let it free. You wanted to see what Heisenberg could do to you. You wanted to let him.

- - - - -

You were a bit suspicious that you weren’t hiding your feelings very well. Heisenberg was clever, and he was incredibly observant. He needed to be. His “family” didn’t exactly get along with him very well, and knowing what you knew about his “siblings”, they would’ve taken any opportunity possible to kill him and take his place as a favored lord. So he was constantly on his toes. And that meant that you were sure that he had noticed you were acting a bit off recently.

And you were sure that he had figured out exactly what was causing you to act that way, by the way that he teased. There was a glint in his eyes when you started to get flustered that was new to you. The way he smirked at you as he praised you, his hand resting casually on your arm for a few more seconds than before. He had even gone through with his collar joke, though he hadn’t given it to you to wear.

He’d wink at you as he held it in front of you, though. It was a silver chain that was about an inch thick, made into an easily adjusted necklace by the extra bit of chain that hung through the loop. The extra bit of chain that also worked as a built-in leash. He’d hold the collar in front of you, dangling it casually from one of his fingers when you started to get sarcastic with him, making comments about how his “pet” needed to be put in her place. And you’d try your best not to show how much you truly wanted that.

It had become another one of Heisenberg’s games. You could tell that he knew. And he knew that you knew that. So the game became how long you could go without breaking.

“So, kitten,” you jumped a bit as Heisenberg appeared behind you. You were making dinner, and had thought that Heisenberg was still working in his shop. He usually didn’t leave for dinner until you came to get him if he ate dinner with you at all, “You seem a bit spaced out. Care to tell me what you’ve got on your mind?”

You could say what you really wanted to. You could say that you wanted him to rail you until you couldn’t walk. But that would end the game. And Heisenberg only liked to end games if he could win them in a satisfying way.

“Nothing you need to worry about, sir,” You muttered, finishing the food you were cooking and pulling it off of the stove, “Just lost in thought.”

He hummed a bit, noticing how you refused to make eye contact. That wasn’t new, but you weren’t usually so awkward about it, “Come on, pet. I’d like to know if you’re planning your escape or something,” A bit of metal began to dangle in front of your face and you knew exactly what it was, “Honestly, (y/n), I really might have to put this collar on you if you’re going to be keeping secrets.”

“It sounds like you’re just looking for an excuse to put a collar on me, Karl,” You had gotten a bit bold, knowing that the line of how much you could get away with was quite a bit further back, “You can just admit that you’re into that.”

He chuckled a bit, resting the arm that he was holding the collar with on your shoulder and leaning into you just a little bit. You could feel his body heat radiating off of him. You always wondered how he was always so warm, living in this factory, surrounded by the cold metal walls, “I don’t know, pet, you haven’t been protesting quite as much. It seems like you may be coming around to the idea. Maybe you’re projecting a bit.”

He had set his chin on your shoulder by the end of his statement, his breath brushing against the shell of your ear. It had sent a shiver down your spine, and you could tell he felt it by the satisfied hum that passed his lips.

“You’re not arguing with me, kitten,” he purred as you failed to muster up a rebuttal, “Is that what you want? You want me to put the collar on you? Do I need to put my needy little pet in place?”

Fuck. You shifted a little, trying not to make the throbbing between your legs obviously. You were trying so hard to think of a comeback, but the teasing had been going on for so long that you were reaching your breaking point. You wanted him to fuck you so badly that it made you look stupid.

He grabbed your shoulder and turned you around to face him. It was so much harder to keep a poker face when you were looking into his eyes, when you could see that glint in them. The kind of glint that made you think he wanted to eat you alive. And you wanted him to.

“If you ask like a good girl, maybe I’ll give you what you want,” his voice came out so much smoother than usual. It intimidated you a bit, knowing that he was holding himself together so well. You knew that there was no way your voice was going to come out nearly as smooth.

“I’m not going to beg, Karl,” Your voice was shaking, but you tried to hold your cool. He always had fun when you talked back a little, and you were hoping that translated to this situation as well. And the wolf-like grin that grew on his face told you that you were right.

“We’ll see about that, kitten.”

- - - - -

You weren’t quite sure when the collar had appeared around your neck. Somewhere between the kitchen and Karl’s bedroom, though, it had snaked its way around your neck, even though his hands never seemed to leave your hips. You were a bit too occupied trying to keep up with his ravenous kisses.

His lips were latched onto your neck as he pushed you through the door to his room. You landed on his bed soon after with a slight bounce. You had been in his room before to clean, but the context was different now. The actual room itself was entirely irrelevant, as Karl climbed on top of you, throwing his hat and glasses to the side, not caring where they landed. All you could look at were his eyes, glowing bright yellow as he looked down at you.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten how much of a fucking brat you’re being,” he growled, looking down at you, “You’ve earned yourself quite the punishment.”

He sunk his teeth into your shoulder, biting just below the hickey that was already forming on your neck. He growled a bit as you squeaked in surprise, biting down a bit harder. You both felt when he broke the skin, and something told you that the mark he was leaving was entirely on purpose. He didn’t want anyone to doubt who you belonged to. His fingers dug into your skin, one hand holding your wrist above your head and the other digging into your side just above your hip. You had a feeling you would be covered in marks and bruises in the morning, and you were alright with that.

He pulled your clothes off quickly, throwing them to the side of the room. He wasn’t wasting any time, so you were pretty sure he had ripped through a seam or two on your dress. And he didn’t hesitate to rip your underwear completely in half.

He threw you around so much easier than you had expected. You knew that he was strong, you had just expected it to take at least a little bit of effort. You supposed that you shouldn’t have underestimated his inhuman strength, because in seconds he had flipped you, moving you so that you were on your hands and knees in front of him. You were entirely vulnerable in front of him, entirely bare as he remained fully clothed behind you.

It was weirdly hot, being at his mercy. He wasn’t a good person, and you knew that. In fact, there was still a feeling in your chest reminding you that he could kill you whenever he wanted. But that didn’t matter at that moment. The fear just made it better in some sick way. You knew you were insane, you had to be, but if insanity felt this good, you were going to accept it.

“Now, kitten, be good and stay quiet through your punishment, and maybe you’ll get a reward,” he stated, sliding his hands from the place they were resting on your waist to rest on your ass instead, “Do I make myself clear?”

You nodded in response, not trusting your voice as his hands slid further down, reaching the back of your thighs, one of his thumbs dangerously close to your pussy. His hands were callused, so as they slid across your skin, it created an interesting sensation. Your eyes almost rolled back into your head as his thumb brushed lightly against your clit, and you heard him chuckle a bit at your reaction. However, before you could enjoy yourself too much, he pulled his thumb away, sliding his hands back up to your ass.

There was a pause for a few moments, and you felt his eyes scanning your body. They always seemed to feel so much more intense than anyone else’s gaze ever could. Before you could get self-conscious, though, one of his hands raised from its place, only to come back down hard. The smacking sound echoed through the entire room, and you couldn’t hold back your yelp.

“Now, now, pet, I thought I said to keep quiet. I’ll let this slide once because you’re cute, but any more, and I’ll have to add some more punishment,” he cooed, grabbing the leash of the collar around your neck and pulling it towards him. He leaned forward until he could actually look at your face, seeing the tears prick at the corners of your eyes already, “I’d hate to break my toy right away, so try to behave.”

He didn’t give you a chance to respond before shoving your head down into the bed and resuming your punishment. You bit your lip, trying your best not to actually break the skin, as you did your best to stay quiet. You were a bit surprised by how much you enjoyed it. After the first few, the pain started to melt away, hidden behind a numb tingling that sent electricity shooting through your whole body. And it was pretty obvious to Heisenberg as well, when slick started to drip down the inside of your thighs.

You lost count before he stopped, but it couldn’t have been more than fifteen. He let out a satisfied hum as he looked at the handprints that were already starting to form, rubbing his hands gently over the forming bruises. You almost started purring as his hands continued to slide across your body.

“You’ve been such a good girl, kitten,” he praises as he moves your body, eventually making you stand in front of him as he sat on the edge of the bed, “Do you want your reward now?”

You nod, far too gone to even try to not look like a desperate fool. He looked proud of himself, seeing you so needy and bare in front of him. It was like a work of art. You had never seen so much admiration and need in his eyes. It wasn’t love. But it was need, and want, and possession.

“Ask nicely.”

You were too desperate to argue. You needed him more than you could remember needing anything, “Please, sir.”

You swore you saw the bulge in his pants twitch at the word “sir” and the glint in his eyes confirmed your suspicions. The grin he gave you showed his teeth, highlighting his fangs like a predatory animal about to lunge.

“Good girl,” He drew it out, shifting his body so that his legs were spread as far as they could be comfortably, before commanding, “Kneel.”

You do as you’re told almost by instinct. It was almost as though your body moved without your brain giving it permission. You had been entirely possessed by your lust. And it only got worse as his hands moved to unzip his pants, only removing enough of his clothing to free his cock.

“You want this, don’t you?” He looked almost amused as your eyes locked onto his cock. You were practically drooling over it. He almost laughed as you nodded, “Enjoy your treat, pet.”

He leaned back a bit, his weight being put on one of his hands, positioned a bit behind him on the bed. He looked so casual as you moved your hands to timidly take the place of his own, which had previously been holding his cock in place. He had to admit you looked adorable, needy and desperate as you kneeled between his legs. You were practically drooling for him.

You started out a bit slow, which surprised him a little. The little kitten licks and kisses felt good enough for him to close his eyes to savor it. However, from the smirk that had formed on your face by the time that he opened his eyes, he realized that you were planning on teasing. He wasn’t about to let that slide.

The hand that he had rested on the top of your head tightened its grip on your hair. “Watch it, kitten. Don’t be a tease,” He growled, pushing your head down a bit until about half of his cock was in your mouth.

With that, your willpower to hold back faded, and you took the rest of him into your mouth. The tip hit the back of your throat just a bit, making you hold back a gag. And as you looked up at him through your lashes and found him smirking down at you, you could tell that he saw it. You reveled in the soft groans that slipped past his lips when you finally got to work, swirling your tongue around as you bobbed your head. You moaned as he pulled your hair, the vibrations causing him to curse and pull your hair even more, “Fuck, kitten, you’re pretty good at that.”

You continued like that for a few more minutes, his grip on your hair getting tighter and tighter. The salty, bitter taste of precum started to hit the back of your throat, making it a bit harder not to gag. But the sounds that slipped from his mouth fueled you even more. You felt proud, hearing how much he was enjoying himself. You almost felt a bit disappointed as he pulled you off of him by your hair, causing you to whine loudly.

“Aw, don’t worry, kitten,” He says, patting your head, “We aren’t done yet. Why don’t you lay down and let me take care of you? You’ve been such a good girl.”

You do as you're told, without saying anything. As you had gotten into the mode you were in, playing the role of Heisenberg’s pet, talking seemed unnatural. It felt right to listen to his commands, obeying him like a dog. So you laid on your back, spread out and completely bare. And you couldn’t hold back the yelp as he grabbed your hips and yanked you roughly to the edge of the bed, so that as he kneeled in front of you, his face was entirely level with your pussy.

You saw that glint in his eyes again as his warm breath hit your already dripping core. You were getting reckless, trying to inch your way closer to speed up the process, only for his grip to tighten on your waist, holding you in place. He had an iron grip on you, and you were thankful for that as he licked a broad stripe up across your pussy before diving in, focusing almost all of his attention on your clit.

You were practically screaming his name as swirled his tongue around your clit with dexterity you didn’t think was even possible to possess. His hands were definitely leaving fingerprint-shaped bruises on your hips, but at least they were holding you in place as you involuntarily started to buck your hips and arch your back. You could feel the knot tightening in your abdomen, your hands ripping the sheets so hard you were a bit worried that you were going to tear them. He slid a finger into you, hitting at just the right angle to make you squeal. You honestly couldn’t think of a time that someone had made you come undone quite so fast, but you certainly weren’t complaining as the tangled nerves in the pit of your stomach finally seemed to snap.

Karl had to admire you as you came, your head thrown back and your legs shaking. Your skin was practically glimmering from the thin layer of sweat that was already clinging to it. He couldn’t help the pride that flooded into his chest as you started to come down from your high looking absolutely destroyed. He wasn’t done yet, but he was glad to see he had it in him to affect you this much.

He slowly stepped back, his eyes never leaving you as you laid on the bed, trying to catch your breath. He made sure to lock eyes with you as he slowly stripped the rest of his clothes off, layer by layer. By the time you recovered, he was finally taking off his necklaces, dropping them onto the pile he had made with the rest of his clothing. Despite his strength, he wasn’t exactly ripped. His arms were fairly muscular and defined, but he had a bit of squish around his stomach. His body was coated in a layer of body hair, the bits of silver shining in the dim light of the room you were in.

He was attractive in the rugged way that made it make sense that he smelled like metal and cigar smoke as he crawled on top of you, keeping pace as you inch yourself further up the bed. It was only once you had settled into place that he leaned down, kissing you feverishly. It escalated with every second, the hand that he wasn’t using to support his body weight roamed your body. It wasn’t long until his hand was moving your legs, angling your hips to make it easier for him to line himself up with your entrance.

He pulled away from the kiss just long enough to slowly push himself into you, watching your reaction as you slowly adjusted to his width and length. It didn’t take you long to adjust, though, and he could tell when you did. He started off slow. It surprised you how gentle he was being, but you didn’t mind at first. Before long, though, you were craving more. You wanted him to use your body.

“Please,” You whined, “Harder.”

He grinned a bit at your begging, recalling your declaration that you wouldn’t beg. He honestly couldn’t tell what part he enjoyed more, the win he had earned or seeing you beneath him, begging for him. Either way, he wasn’t going to deny you what you wanted.

So he leaned back, shifting his weight to his knees so that he could grab your ankles. He pinned your legs to your chest. As he slammed into you, much harder than before, you could tell just how much the angle had changed. Your eyes nearly rolled back into your head as he continued to thrust into you. Your moans got louder, and he started to groan a bit too, cursing under his breath as his thrusts got a bit uneven.

“Fuck, kitten,” he breathed into your ear as he leaned down, your legs on his shoulders. You could feel him twitching inside of you, getting close to his own ending, “You’re such a good girl.”

You couldn’t help yourself as your hands moved to scratch down his back, digging your nails in as deeply as you could. He responded by biting into the same place he had earlier, a bit of blood from before sticking to the corners of his mouth. With a few more rough thrusts, his teeth sinking a little bit deeper into your shoulder, he finished. And the two of you both started to relax.

After a few seconds of you both catching your breath, he pulled away, rolling to the side so that he could comfortably lay on his back next to you. It was an awkward few moments, both of you laying there in near silence, only for him to break it with, “We should probably get that bite cleaned up, huh? My bad, pet. I forget how fragile you are sometimes.”

And with that he got up, moving to gently take care of you. He cleaned up your bite mark, and helped you clean between your shaky legs with a damp washcloth. It was a whole new side of him as he helped clean you off, making sure that he hadn’t been hurt too badly. And after a few minutes, when you had been cleaned enough that you weren’t actively uncomfortable, he climbed back into bed and wordlessly pulled you into his chest.

(A/N: So... um. I'm sorry for this. This is my second smut ever and I needed to get a bit... self-indulgent so my brain would stfu.)

#karl heisenberg #lord heisenberg #heisenberg smut #re8 heisenberg #resident evil heisenberg #heisenberg x reader #karl heisenburg x reader #resident evil 8 village #resident evil village x reader

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yandere-daydreams · 4 years ago

Text

Title: Angelic.

Pairing: Yandere!Diavolo/Reader.

Word Count: 3.8k.

Synopsis: You like being an angel. You’re proud of it, of your wings, of your faith, of all you’ve done to earn your place in the Celestial Realm. Diavolo doesn't mind your current state, of course not, he loves every part of you. He just thinks some modifications may need to be made, before he can love you properly.

TW: Violence, Kidnapping, Prolonged Imprisonment, Non-Consensual Touching, Blood, Possessive Mindsets, Slight Dehumanization, and Mentions of Non-Con.

Michael used to say only the bravest angels earned their wings.

It was part of the reason they were so rare, after the Celestial War, after Lucifer and his brothers took their wings and distorted them into leathery, spiked, perverted evidence of their new, tainted loyalties. You didn’t have to be the toughest angel, but you had to be devoted, you had to be dedicated beyond a shadow of a doubt, and you had to be brave enough to put that dedication on display. You were just a messenger, a servant to much more deserving candidates, but you still had a pair sprouting from your shoulder blades, just heavy enough to give you a reason to straighten your back, whenever you started to lose faith in your divinity. You’d earned them, and you were proud. You’d managed to keep them, and you had no plans to give them up.

Only the bravest angels had wings. That meant you were a brave angel.

It meant you could be brave enough to survive Diavolo, as long as you had your wings.

They were warm, too, forming a soft, white shell around your upper body, helping you to block out that unignorable chill that came hand in hand with the Devildom. It’d been a temporary discomfort in the past, something you could brush aside whenever you were asked to carry a letter to the Demon Lord’s castle or invited as a make-shift ambassador in the absence of a proper representative, but after days trapped in the domain, your shining sun replaced with layers of stone and rock, there was little you could do to escape it, and Diavolo seemed hesitant to offer his aid. His kindness had stopped at a silk gown, black and thin and just teetering on the edge of purposefully sheer, the fabric fine enough to slip through his fingers as he toyed with the hem, perched on the edge of your bed, edging closer despite your obvious attempts to melt into the headboard.

He said you’d have your own space, your own room, that he wanted you to feel comfortable enough to welcome him in willingly, when you were ready. He said he would give you time.

Obviously, he’d been lying, and you weren’t quite why you’d ever bothered to believe him.

The silence was tense. There’d been a greeting when he came in, a gesture of good will you hadn’t returned, but if Diavolo was bothered, it didn’t stop him from smiling, a simper tugging at the corner of his lips as he glanced towards you, attempting to catch your eye while you glared at the sheets. That didn’t stop him from speaking, though, attempting to clear the air and only making the atmosphere more poluted, as a result. “I take it you don’t care for my hospitality.”

His tone was light, jovial. Less of an attempt to coax you into a comfortable lull and more of a genuine fondness, regardless of whether or not the object of his affection returned the sentiment. “I don’t want to…” You wanted to go home. You wanted him to undo whatever spell he’d cast on the door and the windows and all the other exits that wouldn’t open, no matter of how many times you slammed yourself against them. You wanted him to let you go, but he wouldn’t. He’d already done enough to prove that, just by coming to you so happily. “I just don’t like it here.”

He dropped your gown, humming as he let his touch drift to your thigh, instead. You only pulled your legs closer, your wings tightening around you, attempting to provide another layer of reassurance. It was a futile pursuit, but still, you could appreciate the effort. “You’re cold?” There wasn’t a point in trying to avoid conversation, so you didn’t try, just nodding as he scanned over you. His skin was warm against yours, but unpleasantly so. Like taking a step too close to an open hearth and letting the heat become searing, rather than soothing. “It gets easier, with time. Angels usually have a difficult time adapting, but you’ll get used to it. And if you don’t…” He paused, his grin growing just a bit wider. “There are plenty of ways to speed up the process.”

Right. You’d almost forgotten. It wasn’t enough for him to just have you. It wasn’t enough for him to just keep you trapped here, against your will and so far from your natural element.

He needed to make you a monster, too. Something just as demonic and just as disgusting as he was.

You were thankful your face was hidden. He wouldn’t have taken it kindly, if he caught the way you grimaced at his suggestion. “I mean, I don’t like it here, Diavolo. It’s not just the cold. I don’t like being underground. I don’t like not being able to leave.” He wasn’t an oblivious man. He knew what he’d done, he knew how you felt about it, but for whatever reason, he refused to acknowledge your rejection. You couldn’t expect him to be kind, but you could expect him to be reasonable. “I don’t want to be a demon, or a fallen angel, or whatever you plan to turn me into. I’m just… I’m not supposed to be.”

“That’s one of the wonderful parts of having power, isn’t it?” It was a chuckle, a breath of a laugh. “I can help you change. With my assistance, you could be something greater than what you are, now. You could be a ranking demon, a name known and feared in—”

“Your servant.” You didn’t bother letting him finish. He was touching you, and you wished he wasn’t. The sooner this ended, the sooner he might stop. “I'll be your servant. Just as I’m Michael’s servant, now.”

Diavolo didn’t bother trying to deny it. “You'll my lover, as well. Isn’t that worth losing a few feathers?”

“I’m sorry, I just…” You didn’t want to be his lover, or his servant, or any role he had to offer. You wanted to be a messenger. You wanted to live a life you could be proud of, you wanted to feel the sunlight on your wings, and you didn’t want to give that up for the first crazed prince to take an interest in you. You didn’t want to give up your wings. Not to him, and certainly not for a prize so undesirable.

Your head lulled to the side, and for the first time since your arrival, you let yourself smile as you spoke.

“I like being an angel.”

Michael used to say only the most faithful angels earned their wings.

Only the most faithful, only the most trusting, only the least likely to be led astray by awful rumors and mortal temptations, by all the urges that’d drove so many of your brothers and sisters to abandoning the Celestial Realm entirely, trading it in for more forgiving terrains. You trusted Michael. You trusted every cherub, every seraph, every throne, every angel. Before, you’d trusted them to guide you, to correct you when you were in the wrong, and now, you trusted them to save you, to come for you, to do something to bring you home and as far from Diavolo as you could possibly be. You trusted them. You trusted them with your life, let alone your freedom.

And, you trusted that Michael had a good reason to wait so long to rescue you, too.

You were starting to lose track of how much time had passed, since you’d been abducted. It felt like two weeks, maybe three, but with Diavolo’s sporadic schedule and no sun to dim or brighten, you really didn’t have a way to be sure. His paperwork didn’t help, sprawled across his desk, all messily written notes and correspondences too personal to need dates or signatures. You looked regardless, doing what you could to search through the mess from your awkward position on his knee, your wings folded stiffly against your back. It had to be here. You knew it’d be here, you just had to—

On the corner of his desk, a letter with its envelope still sitting on top of it. A letter you didn’t remember delivering.

A letter with Michael’s insignia pressed into its torn surface. The insignia you’d dedicated your life to. The insignia you’d continue to dedicate your life to, as soon as you got away from Diavolo.

It would’ve been better to stay quiet. It would’ve been better not to say anything at all. It would’ve been smarter, but your mouth was already opening, your lips already moving, and before you could stop yourself, the question you’d been dying to ask was already spilling out. “Does he know?”

Diavolo hesitated, the constant scrawling of his quill going silent. Even then, he took a moment to answer, his tone suddenly much more patronizing than it had any right to be, for such a simple question. “Darling,” He started, his hand falling to your hip, rubbing circles idly into your side. “Michael’s a smart man. I’m sure he’s realized where you are, by now.”

“I know.” Michael had to know. You couldn’t take a step out of line without earning a lecture for your ‘disobedience’, most days. “But, you’re lying to him, aren’t you?” It was more of a hopeful thought than an accusation. Something you just wished he’d be kind enough to tell you, rather than honest enough to disregard. “He doesn’t think I’m… He doesn’t think I’m here like this, right?”

There was a pause, and his hand stopped moving.

This time, he didn’t try not to laugh.

It was an awful feeling, his chest pressing against your back, just the hint of his weight forcing you to slouch as his lips ghosted over the dip of your shoulder, warm breath fanning over your skin at every chuckle, every wistful sigh, every painful word you couldn’t beg him not to say, not without losing your dignity, too. “What do I have to lie about?” You shuddered as he kissed you, the gesture fleeting, but no less repulsive. If Diavolo noticed, he didn’t seem to mind. “I’m taking care of you. You’re housed and fed and looked after, and you could be entertained, if I trusted you to wander out of my sight. He’s aware of my feelings for you, and if he asked, I’d be happy to tell him all about my stubborn little dove and spoiled you’ve become, with me.”

‘If he asked’. You were used to the way he talked about you – like a pet, like something to be adored and cooed over and cared for, but you’d be lying if you said something didn’t crack inside of your chest at that, at the implication that Michael hadn’t asked, not yet. It could’ve been a tactic, a strategy to guide Diavolo into a false sense of security. It could’ve been part of one of the many ‘greater plans’ your superior had always been so endeared by.

That, or he just didn’t care. It wasn’t like you were the only messenger in the Celestial Realm.

Diavolo must’ve caught your worried frown, the half-hearted, distracted glare you couldn’t seem to completely suppress. His next kiss lasted longer than his first, lingering against the nape of your neck. Temptation, poorly guised under the pretense of comfort. “Angels are fickle creatures, Michael especially. You’re dear to me, you know that, but I can’t say everyone is quite as emotional.” He gave you time to respond, but you didn’t take the opportunity. You didn’t have anything to say, not when he got like this. “It might be a little less painful if you—”

“I like being an angel,” You snapped. It didn’t have anything to do with Michael, or his approval, or whether or not he cared that you were stuck in the same frozen, sunless hell he’d sent you to, trapped by the same devil he’d insisted that you see day in and day out despite your complaints, despite the lasting touches and the prolonged visits and that awful, possessive glint in Diavolo’s eye, when he looked at you. You didn’t care about Michael, not when it came to this. Not when you already knew what you were. “I’m an angel. I’ll always be an angel. I’ve never wanted to be anything else.”

It was the truth, but Diavolo only sighed, your wings straining not to lash out as he pulled you closer. Straining not to protect you, however necessary their service was beginning to seem.

“We’ll see.”

Michael used to say only the strongest angels earned their wings.

Strong in will, strong in mind, strong, whether or not you had any place on a battlefield. Out of all Michael’s compliments, it was the rarest, saved for soldiers and generals and magicians of the highest order, communicated in sparse bits of praise you felt lucky just to overhear. Maybe if you’d ever gotten your second pair, he would’ve said it to you, too. Maybe if you’d ever sought to be more than a messenger, he would’ve thought you were worthy of it. Maybe, if you escaped on your own, he’d smile and place a hand on your shoulder and celebrate your strength, your wings, your perseverance, you.

Maybe, if you escaped soon enough, you’d still want him to.

In your defense, it’d taken you a month just to get this close to the outside world, just to be able to see the Devildom beyond the walls of Diavolo’s castle, albeit still restrained to a balcony. It was brighter than you expected, the landscape below glowing with floating lanterns and glinting streetlights, ancient estates and modern stores standing side by side, a testament to the contained chaos of Diavolo’s domain. It was beautiful, even if you must’ve seen it a hundred times before. It was breathtaking, if only because it wasn’t the same stone and mortar, the same bedrooms and offices and grand ballrooms too empty not to come off as uncanny. You haven’t even asked for it, not unprompted.

It was a gift. It was a reward for your good behavior, not unlike your wings.

You pushed the thought out of your mind as soon as Diavolo’s armed wrapped around your waist. You’d wanted your wings. You’d worked for them. You’d never wanted this.

Still, you didn’t push him away. You wanted more time to take it in, another minute of feeling that humidity against your skin, another second of breathing fresh air. As long as you got that, you could ignore his unnatural body-heat, the feeling of his lips against the side of your neck, trailing towards your jaw while you bit back your usual complaints. That was his reward, for being such a considerate captor. He got to touch you, actually touch you, and for once, you had a good reason not to fight back.

Your wings had never liked to listen to logic, though. Despite your grit teeth, your white-knuckle grip on the low guard-rail, your right wing still plastered itself to your side, wrapping around you protectively while its twin hovered behind Diavolo, at your side, caught between the urge to push itself between you and a perceived threat and your commands to relax, fall back, do something that didn’t make your shoulders ache and your spine cramp every time you shifted. Fortunately, Diavolo seemed unfazed, only bothering to brush your wing away when it bumped against his back, reacting to every nip to your jaw, every brush of pointed fangs against your jugular.

He barely pulled away to speak, his voice coming out muffled. “I’m starting to think you don’t trust me.”

“I can’t really control them,” You mumbled, your grip growing impossibly tighter around the guard rail. Diavolo was pulling you closer, now, his hold not quite crushing, but still as suffocating as it’d ever been. “I… I think I’m just nervous. They start to get fidgety when I’m on-edge, y’know?”

There was a laugh, a peck the corner of your lips. You couldn’t stop yourself from flinching back. It wasn’t the most intimate thing he’d tried, it wasn’t even the most invasive, but the fact that he felt comfortable trying at all wasn’t a good sign. “Are you still scared of me, my love?” It was a question, but he didn’t give you time to answer, only tugging you towards him, his knee slipping between your legs as you were forced to face him, abandoning your railing and your only source of stability, in the process. “I think I’ve been kind, and you must see that I’m being patient. I’ve trying to be gentle with you, despite how cold you’ve been, since I took you in.”

A hand dropped to your thigh, and your vision tinged black around the edges. He must’ve been able to feel your pulse racing, but he didn’t seem disturbed by your sudden anxiety. “Only because I haven’t given you permission to be anything but gentle, yet.”

Something sparked in his eyes, a dark sort of fire. “I don’t need your permission for everything, you know.”

For once, you and your wings were in agreement.

It helped that he wasn’t expecting it. You’d always been passive when it came to action, too timid to fight back in any meaningful way, so when you lashed out, when you wedged a strong wing between his body and yours and shoved, he was caught off-guard, letting you go out of instinct alone. You didn’t bother trying to subdue him. He was a head taller than you and twice as strong, but you were faster, you were frenzied, and whatever he might’ve expected, it couldn’t have been what you did next. In the space between one second and another, you were on top of the railing, struggling to keep your balance as your wings stretched to their full length for the first time in weeks. You felt a hollow throb, a pang of discomfort, but you weren’t deterred. You needed to get out of here. You needed to fly. You couldn’t leave his kingdom, but as long as you left him, you’d be alright. You wanted to fly. You had to fly.

But, as soon as you’d jumped, a fist wrapped around your ankle, and you were thrown back onto the balcony before your wings could do so much as flap.

It hurt. More than anything, it hurt, from the new crack in your ribcage to the spot where something shattered in the arch of your left wing. You curled into yourself instinctively, a faltering whimper turning into a broken scream as Diavolo’s foot caught the bend of your fractured wing, still fluttering pathetically in an attempt to aid you. “I’m trying to be nice,” He snarled, but he didn’t sound angry. He sounded disappointed, exasperated, tired of you and your refusal and how little he seemed to respect either. There was an airy, exhausted chuckle on his part, then a ragged sob on yours. “Would it really be so awful to be with me? Have I really done something monstrous enough to deserve this?”

Yes. It was, he had, yes. That’s what you wanted to say, what you meant to, but your tongue refused to form the words. “I d-don’t—” You slurred, instead, only to be cut short by your own hitched cry. “I… I like being an angel, I don’t wanna— I can’t—”

“I know.”

His heel pressed into your wing, blood seeped from matted feathers, and something hot and agonizing shot from your injury to your brain. Like lightening. Like liquid mercury. Like fire.

You didn’t even have a chance to close your eyes before the world went dark around you.

You used to say you’d rather lose your head than your wings.

It was one of those stupid, short-sighted things people liked to say when they were feeling bold, when they were safe, when they’d just gotten something new and shiny and hadn’t grown tired of showing it off. Sometimes it was an arm, some days your legs, and when you were feeling particularly brave, you’d say your heart, despite how useless your wings would probably be without something so vital. It might’ve been different if you were ever actually up against a threat that wanted to take one or the other, but it still would’ve been your choice. That was what you were stuck on, really. You thought you’d get to choose.

But, you hadn’t.

Diavolo must’ve grown tired of letting you make the wrong decision, all while he tried to be so helpful.

You felt hollow when you woke up, lying on a bed you’d never seen before. Lighter than you should’ve been, sliced open and carved out, missing something necessary and warm and filling. Your throat felt dry, your eyes stung, and when you tried to roll onto your side, when you tried to move at all, it felt like every tissue, every tendon, every cell in your body was trying to tear itself apart. The pain was all-consuming, and it only seemed to get worse as you shrunk into yourself, your arms wrapping around your sides and your wings following—

Oh.

It was kind of funny, how long it’d taken you to notice.

You didn’t have to look. You kept your eyes shut, a cracked sob slipping past your lips as you tried desperately to move your wings, to lift them, to flap them, to do something beyond digging your nails into the sheets and cursing, panting, waiting for anything. The pain dimmed, numbing into something distant, something unimportant as you tried to push yourself up, but a strong hand clamped around your shoulder before you could make any progress, not forcing you to lay down, but urging you to, not giving you another choice.

That seemed to be a trend, lately.

You tried to thrash. You tried to struggle, but Diavolo just clicked his tongue, the mild sound of disapproval serving as your only warning before he sat up, an arm soon thread underneath the small of your back and the bend of your knees, lifting you into his lap without the option to pull away. “Please, try not to move.” As always, he was gentle, hushing your weak protests before you could think to vocalize them. “Your wounds are still healing. It’d only be more painful if you tore your stitches, and the mess—”

“What—What did you do—” You were stuttering, stumbling over your words, but it didn’t matter. You were desperate, and you needed to do something. “I can’t… Why can’t I feel my wings?”

There was a slight pause, the smallest hesitation. You swear, you could feel his smile burning into you, as he started to speak. “You said you wanted to be angel, my love.” It was a crime, how soft his voice was, how tenderly he held you. A captor masquerading as a caretaker. A demon as a doting lover. “But, I couldn’t have you trying to fly away. Consider this a compromise, an alternative to keeping my little songbird locked in a cage.”

You might’ve preferred a cage. A cell, a prison, a chain around your ankle, anything over the strange dissonance that came with having half of yourself ripped away and discarded. But, Diavolo hadn’t given you the choice. Michael hadn’t saved you, and now, after you’d been damaged so severely, you doubted he ever would.

You liked being an angel. You really, really liked being an angel. You’d never wanted to be anything else.

You just weren’t sure if you could be an angel, without your wings.

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polonium-snap · 3 years ago

Text

The Beauty & the Deku chp.3

Summary: Izuku and Katsuki somehow get trapped in a book of fairy tales, to get out of it they decide to play their part in the stories. How far are they willing to go to fulfill the romantic plotlines? Will Katsuki be able to play the role of a fairy tale princess?

ao3

Wattpad

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The ceiling was pinkish brown and wooden, comfortable heat embraced the slowly waking up body of a gorgeous blonde-haired man. Birds tweeted loudly outside his window, as they usually did these days, man fuck those birds, he thought, not only were they disrupting his sleep but they were also a sign he was still trapped in a never-ending nightmare.

“Fine, fine, I’ll get up.” Katsuki sat up on the bed. “You can stop yapping.” His only comfort was knowing at least the damn animals weren’t talking.

As the previous times, he woke up in an unfamiliar room, though this time it seemed more lively, and even if it was still quite far from his own room back at home, it was quieter. Katsuki sighed and stood up, leaving the warmth of his bed to face what was his reality as for now, he changed into some better clothes, noticing with relief that they were comfortable enough.

He went down the stairs where he found the idiots he calls friends making a ruckus and giggling for some reason.

“Let’s make it red.” Kirishima’s voice could be heard.

“No, no, pink.” Mina said authoritatively.

“Isn’t that the same color?” Now that was dunce face.

Katsuki could only thank the sky that they weren’t animals this time. “What are you idiots doing?” The blonde makes his presence known.

They jump to the table, trying to obstruct his view of whatever they were hiding behind and stuttering in a less than conspicuous way.

“We want you to pick some berries.” Kirishima said, handing him a basket.

“Yes, exactly!” Kaminari said, further cementing the fact they are hiding something from Bakugou.

The logic of Katsuki’s new approach to finding a way out of this hellhole would say he refuses to do anything they ask of him, but he thinks he knows what story they are in now, he knew it as soon as Bakugou saw three of his friends in ridiculous color-coded outfits that brought more childhood memories, he was in Sleeping Beauty. He had to go to the forest to supposedly look for berries so he would find his stupid childhood friend, Deku, who for some reason was always prince charming in these stories, while Katsuki was stuck in uncomfortable dresses.

“Yeah, whatever, I’ll go.” He rolled his eyes because showing disdain was the only thing that was not censored in this shitty world. He takes the basket and pretends he doesn’t know the three idiots are planning for a birthday party or something like that.

Katsuki would never admit it, but he had missed his friends, and seeing them in animal form did not count as actually interacting with them, seeing them in their usual antics was a breath of fresh air the blonde needed.

He makes his way out of the house and walks straight to the forest, fuming, because he is still mad at Deku and since they are done with the follow-the-story bullshit he can kick the green-haired menace as much as he wants. Katsuki ignores the animals that follow him around, only lightly greeting them, as he has accepted their permanent existence next to him.

“DEKUUUUU!!!” Katsuki bellows as hard as his vocal cords allow. “Where are you? You useless bastard!!!” He screams some more.

After some minutes of yelling, the little fucked decides to answer. “Kacchan?” Izuku says, appearing seemingly from nowhere with a white horse.

“Deku.” Bakugou grins maniacally. “Prepare to die, nerd.” He impulsed himself toward Izuku, whose eyes widened in panic and surprise.

“Wait, wait! Kacchan!” Izuku flailed his hands around, but the blond did not stop, tackling him to the ground. “Uff!” Deku said as they hit the ground and felt the weight of his friend crash into him.

“I’m still incredibly angry at the stunt you pulled off in the last story.” Katsuki explained. “You literally had ONE job, while I slaved around cleaning that crappy house, and you managed to mess it up!” He growled. “So don’t complain too much while I kill you.” The angry straddled Izuku and raised his hand.

“No, wait!” Izuku cried. “I-IthinkIknowhowtogetoutofhere!” He said quickly, making the other stop on his tracks.

He wasn’t actually going to punch Deku, not that the little twerp needed to know that. “What did you say?” Bakugou raised an eyebrow and took his fist away from the other teen’s face.

“I think I know how to get out of here.” Izuku stated.

“Do tell.” Kasuki said, still sitting down on Deku’s lap, which didn’t escape the notice of the green-eyed man, who blushed profusely.

“Let’s stand up first, Kacchan.” Izuku said, trying very hard not to stare at the cleavage that was so close to his face, enhanced by the loose clothing the blonde wore.

Katsuki blustered and stood up, wordlessly offering a hand to Izuku, which he took just as silently since he knew better than to point them out.

They started to walk through the forest. “Why didn’t you do what you were supposed to in the last story?” The taller man asked. “Did you hate kissing me that much?” Katsuki snorted, but he was unsure why an affirmative answer would hurt him so much.

“I-I didn’t- I d-d-don’t! I j-j-just!” Izuku stuttered, unable to explain himself. How was he supposed to tell his longtime crush that one of the reasons he didn’t want to kiss him was that he liked it too much and it hurt knowing it meant nothing? “I just couldn’t do it while you were unconscious!” It wasn’t a lie. “I felt disgusting.” Also, not a lie, kissing Kacchan while he was asleep felt like Izuku was forcing himself on someone that clearly didn’t like him that way.

“You are so stupid.” Katsuki said, somewhat relieved, Deku had said he didn’t hate it. “But it’s whatever, Deku.”

“Right.”

They continued walking until they reached a clearing, where Katsuki sat down on a nearby rock and rested his arms on a bigger one near it, smirking at Izuku. “So you said you know how to get out of here?” He said, thinking the other had just said that to get the other to abstain from hitting him. “It better not be your way of trying to convince me to go along with the story again.”

“I-it’s not.” Izuku said, blushing at how the other man looked and his new idea of a way out of this nightmare. “I was just thinking…”

“Dangerous.” Katsuki interrupted, continuing with his teasing. “Each time you do that we end up in an even more forked up situation than with what we started.” He never stopped smirking.

“Shut up!” Izuku continued to blush. “If you don’t want to hear my idea, that’s fine.” He turned away from his friend's hot smile.

Katsuki laughed. “Sorry nerd, it’s just that your last idea didn’t exactly work.” He said. “Besides, you said that if it didn’t work you would let me do my idea next, that’s just doing the opposite from what the story said.”

Izuku huffed. “How would that even work?” He crossed his arms.

The blonde rolled his eyes. “What is your new idea anyway?”

The shorter teen looked away, his cheeks slightly burning, originally he wasn’t actually going to say what he had been thinking about, he had said it on impulse, even though he knew Kacchan wouldn’t actually hit him.

“Well?” Katsuki insisted. “Aren’t you going to enlighten me with your amazing ideas?” He continued sarcastically.

“I-it’s just…” Izuku breathed, debating telling the other what he was thinking. “Y-you know how the last two stories only ended because we k-k-kissed?”

Bakugou’s eyes widened, immediately catching on to what Deku was trying to say, the worst was it did make sense, the last two stories had ended when they kissed, well. When Katsuki had kissed Izuku since the other hadn’t had the chance either of the times to kiss back.

“M-m-m-maybe i-if we did it again, we could move onto the next story?” Izuku finished explaining.

Katsuki fought a blush. “S-say we do t-t-that, what do we do once we get to the next story?” He asked

“I g-gu-guess we could continue to k-k-k-kiss until there are no more fairy tales?” Izuku said, though he completely expected the idea to be rejected.

“It could...work.” Katsuki admitted with an uncharacteristically quiet, pink dusting his cheeks, which he hid by turning away from Izuku.

There was a deafening silence, so much so he could feel the sparks of tension between them, pushing and pulling simultaneously. Red eyes lock on green, triggering even more the thick air between them as the color of their eyes shone even brighter with indescribable emotions.

“...Good, cool, cool, cool, cool.” Izuku muttered, unsure of what to do next, does he get closer to the other teen, or should he wait for the blond to initiate. “Should we...try it now?”

“Yeal,” Katsuki said breathlessly. “I mean, the faster we do this the sooner we’ll know if it works, right?” He tentatively stepped forward, not one to be a coward. “Or did you lie and you actually hate kissing me?” He teased as he was unsure of what to do with himself.

“No!” Deku replied too fast, blushing instantly. “I mean, no, it wasn’t bad, I guess.” He tried to be nonchalant. “I was just making sure you were ready.” He followed the knee-jerking response he had to Kacchan of accepting every challenge the blond implied.

Slowly they got closer.

Unlike last time, they weren’t rushed, didn’t feel the frustration to be done with the story as they had previously, this time they were obligated to look into each other and watch as luscious plump lips closed the heated distance between them.

Izuku couldn’t breathe, mesmerized by the sight in front of him and the warm breath that heated further his cheeks and tickled his nose.

Their lips met softly, making a complete contrast to their previous kisses, Katsuki lightly touched Izuku’s cheek with his hand, and Deku couldn’t help the need to place his hands on the blond’s hips. The kiss seemed to short, only serving to make Izuku crave more.

“...So...it didn’t work.” Katsuki said, not yet removing his hand.

“Y-Yeah.” Izuku mumbled back, also not taking his hands away.

Katsuki seemed to react first, slightly jumping away from Deku. “I-I think I need to go back to the three idiots cabin.”

Izuku jumps away too, as soon as his brain is able to process what had happened to a passable degree. “Oh, yeah! Of course! See you later, K-Kacchan!”

The blond turns away and starts walking away before stopping suddenly. “By the way, you can kiss me whenever.”

Izuku’s mouth snapped shut, the redness from his cheeks that just barely had seemed to calm down returned in full force.

“I-I mean! If it’s to get out of the story.” Bakugou amends, uncharacteristically embarrassed.

Deku almost is unable to contain the disappointment that spreads through him. “Of course…”

Katsuki berated himself all the way back to the house, what even was that back there with Deku? Why was he, Lord Explosion Murder, who is never embarrassed stuttering and tripping over his words? Not to mention the kiss, he definitely enjoyed it more than he should, prolonged it more than he should have.

Who would have known Deku was such a good kisser? It had to be that, right? That was the only possible reason he liked the kiss so much.

He needed to get out of his head, and thankfully taking care of his extras was exactly what could do so.

“There he is!” Said Kaminari, glad to see him, as Kirishima and Ashido turned to look at him too.

“Happy Birthday, bro!” Kirishima said, shoving a cake onto his face, while Mina presented him with a beautifully crafted outfit; a blue dress-inspired shirt with a wide cleavage with same-colored pants and a darker shade cape.

Bakugou smiled despite himself, it wasn’t anywhere near his birthday, though the praise of his (thankfully human-looking) friends was certainly but secretly appreciated. “How did you idiots even manage to make this cake and not set the house on fire?”

“Uhhhh…about that.” Denki looked at his friends less than subtly, at which they returned the unease with equally inconspicuous looks. “We have something very important to tell you.”

“Oh, yeah.” Kirishima confirmed.

“You should sit for this honey,” Mina said, suddenly serious.

The blond teen rolled his eyes, honestly, he should have started to do whatever the fuck he wanted long ago, but he strangely decided to humor his friends, NOT because he liked them and missed them, not at all, Katsuki was just in a generous mood.

“We,” Kirishima started and pointed to himself and the other two extras. “Are fairies, we were tasked by the king to take care of you until you turned 16, due to a sleeping curse that is to end today.”

Katsuki acted shocked just because he could. “Oh, word?”

“Now you need to get ready sweetie, you are going to marry a prince and we have to prepare.” Mina said, grabbing the newly made outfit with the intention of dressing Bakugou.

“Yes, yes, prince Izuku this, prince Izuku that.” Katsuki rolled his eyes at the thought of the nerd.

The three fairies shared a confused look. “Who is Izuku?” Kaminari asked.

“We were talking about Prince Philip.” Said Kirishima.

“WHat?” Katsuki yelled. “Who on Earth is that? I’m not marrying some random extra!” He protested.

“Why not?” Mina asked.

“There’s already someone I…” Katsuki paused, realizing what he was just about to say. “I would rather marry someone I know rather than some dude I just met…”

“You met someone?” Kirishima asked, surprised.

“NO, yes, maybe.” Katsuki stuttered. “In the forest, there was this guy, a total dumb nerd, but I guess he is torelable enough, kind of funny, and stubborn, anyways, he is definitely better than some Prince Philip.”

Ashido looks at him with something like sorrow. “Sorry hun, you’ve been betrothed to him since you were born, you have to marry him or there will literally be a war”

While Katsuki was well aware he was trying to purposefully change the story, he did not want to deal with a war at the moment. It never occurred to him that the prince might not be Izuku, it never seemed like a possibility, and he couldn’t quite understand why it was so upsetting.

He wondered who the prince would end up being.

۵⚜-The Beauty and the Deku-⚜۵

Izuku went back to the castle he had woken up in, finding out All Might was once again his father for the tale, which he was in part very happy about, but at the same time sad he didn’t exactly count on the time to enjoy.

“Al- Dad!” Deku said once he saw the oddly dressed Toshinori.

“Oh, my boy!” All Might said. “Where have you been all morning? We have so much to prepare for your wedding to the prince.”

“I’m sorry I’m late, but I’m just...uhm...exited?” Izuku said. “I mean, at first I wasn’t sure, but now I’m glad I’m marrying him.”

“My boy Izuku,” All Might smiled. “I’m so glad you have come around, I knew prince Aurelio would be a good match for you.”

“Wait, who?!” Izuku’s eyes widened.

“Prince Aurelio, the one you have been betrothed to since you were children.” All Might raised an eyebrow.

“No no no, I’m going to marry prince Katsuki!” the young man said, unnerved by the newfound information.

Toshinori paused for a moment. “There is no prince on this side of the world named Katsuki.” He said slowly, looking at increasingly more nerve-wracked Izuku with worry.

That’s right, Kacchan and him being both the main leads in every story was never a hard-cold fact. That thought didn’t help Izuku at all, they had just started to figure things out when again there were new issues to deal with?! He had to marry some random prince he didn’t know, and for what? Kacchan wasn’t even following the story currently, which right about now sounded very appealing to Izuku who while was more than ok kissing his childhood friend definitely did not feel the same way about some prince who was probably way older than he was.

He needed to speak with Kacchan.

“Look, you don’t have to marry prince Aurelio if you have someone you actually love.” All Might assured, patting the back of his panicked son in a loving manner. “I’ll just have to talk to the king and everything will be alright.”

Izuku bit his lip, he had been an advocate for following the story so far, but now he had his doubts. “I-I already have someone I want to marry, and it’s not prince Aurelio.”

“Alright, my boy.” All Might smiled, but then he sighed. “Your mother won’t be happy, you know? She is good friends with the queen.”

“My mom?” Izuku muttered, missing her dearly. “You mean my mom Inko?” He said making sure he was talking about her and not some woman who was supposed to be his mother in the story.

“Who else?” All might said, besotted with the mention of the green-haired woman.

Huh. Izuku thought this was the second time All Might and Inko were his parents and apparently married, happily. He was aware this world took real elements from his reality, which made him wonder if this relationship between his mom and his mentor held some truth to it.

“Who is this Katsuki you want to marry anyway?” Toshinori asked, curious as to who had captured his son’s heart.

“Oh, about that.” Izuku remembered his intention to go look for Kacchan in order to talk about the current situation. “I have to go find him, I mean, I have to introduce you to him.”

All Might laughed and side hugged Izuku in a way that mitigated some of the unease the green-haired teen had been feeling for a while. Izuku found himself very happy to see All Might so carefree, apparently devoid of any injury and restored to his old self. “All right, you go do that, I’ll talk the king out of a war, although now that I think about it, it might be the queen who I will have to talk to.”

“See you later All M- dad!” Izuku said, the taller man had looked hurt when Izuku apparently called him by the nickname All Might had gained in a war, instead of calling him dad, so Izuku had caved and called the man so only because he knew that it wasn’t the real Toshinori.

Deku mounted his horse and started to go on his way to the cabin Katsuki had mention waking up, they needed to talk.

۵⚜-The Beauty and the Deku-⚜۵

The castle was bigger than the one Katsuki had seen in Cinderella and Snow White, the atmosphere also looked brighter. As soon as he figured he was in Sleeping Beauty Katsuki had been determined to just not fall asleep, after biting the apple Shigaraki had given him in the last story he had had weird dreams he remembered nothing about. Besides, he had always wondered why Aurora went and got herself prickled with the fucking spinning wheel.

Anyway, that was not going to him, he strengthened his resolve as he entered the castle, rolling his eyes as he was told that his parents in this story wanted to see him just after his wedding to, ugh, Prince Philip.

“So they don’t see me for 16 years and the first time they want to marry me off to some weirdo, that’s nice.” He said sarcastically.

“People say he is very handsome, you know.” Kaminari said, now in what Katsuki supposed was his fairy outfit.

“Who cares if the sun shines out of his ass.” Cool, ass itself was not a swear word, praise the gods. “I don’t want to marry him, and I’ll be such a jerk he won’t either.”

“Wow, you really must be in love with the guy you met in the forest.” Mina commented in awe, in a pretty pink outfit.

Katsuki spluttered, turning red. “I DO NOT LIKE DEKU!!” He screeched. “H-he is a lame nerd, we could never be together.” He turned to look outside the window. He and Izuku were friends, now that Katsuki had gotten his head out of his ass and stopped having his superiority complex triggered by his childhood friend, but years of miscommunication and misguided aggression could be easily ignored.

Ashido, Kirishima, and Kaminari guided him to his room and fixed him up in a blue outfit they had made for him, although Mina and Eijiro still argued over the color.

“We’ll be right back!” Kirishima said as he and the other two went out to do who knows what.

Katsuki sighed and looked at his reflection, he didn’t know why on earth he was still entertaining this stupidity his friends had told him to, he had said he would fuck shit up in this story because he was tired of going along with it, why exactly had he been doing exactly the opposite? Either way, there was no way he was going to ever marry some random dude, even if it was what got him out of here, he and Deku would figure out another way.

Suddenly he felt like he was underwater, he couldn’t think or feel.

He was an outsider of his own body as he stood up, slowly walking in an unknown direction through the swirling stairs and hallways. His senses were asleep and his mind seemed submerged in a thick substance that forbade him from controlling himself.

Abruptly he was vaguely aware of the door in front of him and as Katsuki opened it he was overwhelmed by green, but not the calm deep forest green he had come to like through the years, but a toxic acidic green burning his eyes with its power, although he felt nothing but nausea.

There was no pain as his finger touched the sharp end of the needle, just the acid spreading through his body as his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he fell unconscious.

۵⚜-The Beauty and the Deku-⚜۵

It had happened again, and really Katsuki should have expected it. Every Time he's out there doing god’s work and saving people, the world decides to fuck him over, he is actually fine with it, he has come to expect it. Katsuki is cursed and he knows it, the problem is that Deku is fucking cursed too, even more than he is for some goddam reason, and one would think bad luck plus bad luck would cancel each other out because that is the logical thing, right? Well, logic flies out when it concerns Katsuki and Izuku.

It is his bad karma making him repent, Katsuki recons.

At first, Katsuki would be offended Aizawa-sensei called him problem child #2, but honestly now with all the bullshit Katsuki goes through every single time he inexplicably sees himself end up involved in some villain’s conspiracy he can’t even deny it.

Which all of this is a roundabout way to say he and Deku got themselves in another fight with older more experienced villains when they are barely in their third year of high school.

They were supposed to do a simple patrol, it was supposed to be easy, but of course, Deku being Deku he had snooped around the agency and recalled the face of some suspected criminal who just happened to walk past them.

“I swear Kacchan, I saw him on the file Hawks was looking at when he welcomed us,” Deku insisted. “We need to follow him.”

“Ok, first of all you can’t call me that fucking kiddie name when we are in costume,” Katsuki scolded, though Izuku at least had the decency to look sorry. “Second, Aizawa specifically told us to only report suspicious activity and not to engage.”

“K- uh, Dynamyght, Aizawa-sensei said that to everybody.”

Katsuki looked at him with a blunt expression. “He said and I quote ‘I swear to god if you get in trouble I’ll expell you, problem children’ while looking at us.”

“Yeah, ok, but Kacchan he’s going to get away.” Izuku said, as they inconspicuously followed the presumed villain as they had yet to come to a decision. “Do you know what he is suspected of doing? They think he is the one that collects children and gives them to All for One!”

The blonde hesitated. “Fine, we’ll call back up.” The other boy frowned, knowing how long backup might take, moreover when it was not even a confirmed sighting.

“Think of the children!” Deku hissed, determined. “Besides, this will look amazing on our record, and may even help us climb ranks when we graduate!”

Dynamyght was nothing if not ambitious, also the children. “God damn it stupid Deku!” He hissed back. “This better not end in a disaster.”

Deku beamed and Katsuki scowled, as was his trained response to that disarming smile.

They carefully followed the suspect; tall with, black hair, yellow eyes, and a weird tattoo on his left eye. Silence trailed them too, even with the considerable amount of people on the street. The presumed villain turns the corner to an alley, where Katsuki and Deku follow several seconds later.

“Shouldn't have followed, mini heroes.” The man said, without even turning around.

Katsuki is about to tell him to shut the fuck up and fight when a hand appears behind him and covers his mouth and nose with a handkerchief. He struggles and is vaguely aware Deku is in a similar situation. Strength escapes the blonde and staying awake is harder as seconds pass by, his head swims and all he can do is muster his best glare as he topples to the ground.

“There’s a quirk I’ve been dying to try.” The man, who looks to be about thirty, smirks.

Katsuki blacks out.

He wakes up tied up and unable to use his quirk, whether it is because of the remnants of the chloroform or because of anti-quirk restraints is unclear. He looks around dazedly, he spots Deku slouched on the floor, no doubt still knocked out and a little girl in the fetal position sobbing in one corner of the dirty basement they were trapped in.

“Hey, you ok, kid?” Katsuki calls and hopes his speech is not too slurred.

The girl sobbed harder. He groaned lowly in frustration and slowly with the little strength he had recovered since he woke up he struggles his way to the small kid, about seven years old.

“We’re gonna get you out of here, you know.” Bakugou had never been good with comforting people, but he tried. “Me and him are actually heroes in training.”

“...Really?” The little girl lifted up her tear-stained face, she had light purple shoulder-length hair and blazing orange eyes.

“Yes really.” He assures her. “Even if we can’t get you out, there will be people looking for us, so don’t give those assholes what they want and keep strong.”

A determined look courses through the girl's face. “Allright, mister hero!”

“Call me Dynamight.” Katsuki corrects as gently as he can.

“My name is Lily.” She says he notices she has a thick book she clutches with all her might.

“Nice to meet you, or whatever.” The book bothers him, why would kidnappers ever let the kid keep anything? “What do you have there, Lily?”

“Oh, this is my favorite book! My mom always reads it to me before sleeping.” She smiles slightly, which Katsuki is glad to see, as this must be a stressful situation for a kid like her. “It’s got all my favorite fairy tales from the movies!”

Katsuki smiles lightly at her. “That is amazing, kid.”

A loud groan from the floor diverted their attention.

Deku lifted his head from the floor, though his tied hands made it difficult to rise from the ground. “K-Kacchan…” He whined.

“Finally up, you piece of sh-trash.” Katsuki amended.

“Where are we?” Izuku asked, clearly still fighting the effects of the drug the villains used to put them unconscious.

“Fu- Hell if I know.”

Deku turned to Lily. “Hi sweety, what is your name?”

She introduced herself timidly and Deku did the same, offering her a smile. Katsuki was glad the other boy had awakened, as he was better at dealing with people than the blonde was, though he still made one or two comments to the conversation they maintained, the little girl coaxing the answers out of him.

The relative pleasantness of the conversation disappeared when the basement’s door opened, revealing the man from earlier, along with his henchmen.

“Take them upstairs.” The black-haired man said.

“Yes, boss.” His henchmen replied in unison, bypassing their leader and lifting up the two teenagers and the girl.

“LET ME GO YOU FUCKERS, LET’S FIGHT LIKE REAL MEN!” Katsuki struggled as hard as he could, and Deku tried to do the same.

I was ultimately useless, and they were dropped in the ground of the upper floor, which was still very much disgusting. They sat the girl on a chair and the leader approached her, with the fairy tale book in his hands, he dropped it carelessly on the floor, where it landed open.

“Show us what you can do.” He smirked at the girl and the heroes in training.

Katsuki growled and Deku glared, Lily predictably was sobbing.

“I don’t have time to waste, little girl.” The leader growled when Lily didn’t immediately use her quirk, and he yanked the poor girl's hair, making Izuku and Katsuki trash harder on their binds. “If you don’t want to die, use your quirk on those two useless heroes.”

The girl cried harder, shaking her head. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”, she said as she raised her hands, probably to use her quirk.

Izuku shook his head, smiling sadly at the girl. “It’s not your fault Lily, the pro heroes will save us soon enough.”

Katsuki gave a short nod in agreement, if anyone was at fault it was these stupid asshole villains.

The girl’s eyes and hands glowed a reddish-orange that started to permeate the room to the point Katsuki had to close his eyes at the strong light as darkness overtakes him. He promptly loses consciousness.

۵⚜-The Beauty and the Deku-⚜۵

Izuku gets to the cabin a few hours later, although it seems no one answers when he knocks on the door. He opens it, just to be sure Kacchan is not there and to have a clue as to where he might have gone. He enters with tentative steps into the darkness of the place, where a sinister laugh greets him.

Hundreds of minions attack him before he can even defend himself as they tie him up and gag him, holding him in place in front of a black figure.

It looks like Kurogiri is the Maleficent in this story, which Izuku guesses is fitting enough, although he notes the usual purpleness of the villain has turned to a sour green.

“I set a trap for a peasant and look here, I caught a prince.” He laughs when Izuku glares at him as the gag and ties prevent anything else.

Izuku is dragged to Kurogiri’s run-down castle, they put him in a cell and shackle his hands and feet. If he had his quirk he could have easily broken the bounds, but not having it does not stop him from struggling against the iron chains.

The green-haired prince sighs and throws himself at the bench, wondering how Katsuki is.

However there is not enough time to lament his situation, as out of nowhere fairy sized Kirishima, Ashido, and Kaminari appear.

“Prince Philip!” Kirishima said as he starts shooting red magic off his wand into breaking the shackles that keep him bound.

“Who?” Izuku said, confused. “My name is Izuku.” He said.

The three fairies gasp. “You are the one prince Aurelio met in the forest.”

“No no, I have never met Aurelio.” Izuku reassured them. “But never mind that, where is Kac-Katsuki?”

Kaminari laughed as he broke the lock of the door. “Katsuki is Aurelio, we had to change his name so he wouldn’t get recognized.”

“Oh.” Izuku said, remembering princess Aurora had gone by Rose the first part of the movie.

Ashido spoke then, interrupting his thoughts. “Guys, we don’t have the time for this, we need to go!” She rushed them.

Izuku immediately straightened up, only half hearing Kirishima’s explanation as he was given a shield and a sword. They speed out the room, not without alerting Kurogiri’s ugly crow, which immediately started squawking in alert. The stairs were full of minions throwing all types of weapons at Izuku, but he skillfully deflected them and somehow they were able to make it out of the castle where the incessant attacks continued as Izuku tried to get to his horse in order to escape.

Rocks and arrows rained from the sky, but thankfully Kirishima, Ashido, and Kaminari turned them into bubbles and flowers with magic, which Izuku thought was pretty neat.

The dashing prince managed to get atop his horse and raced to the castle and with outstanding strength was able to cut all the spiky vines that barricaded the place Katsuki was trapped in asleep.

Upon cutting his way through the vines, Kurogiri teleports in front of him, furious. Then he turns into a dragon, at which Izuku looks for a more open area where he won’t be burnt to flames, swinging his sword at the reptile as it shoots green fire out his mouth.

In the process he somehow manages to break one of his left-hand fingers and lose his shield, he hissed in pain as he stared down the abyss. The dragon seemingly laughs, thinking they have won, but the three fairies hover over Izuku, overloading the sword with so much magic it shines. In a last-ditch effort to win, Izuku throws the sword with all his remaining strength and lets out a sigh of relief when it pierces right through the dragon’s heart.

Kurogiri stumbled into the abyss, where Izuku once the threat has been eliminated does not even bother looking back as he sprints toward the castle, bypassing the sleeping peasants, the guards, and even All Might and Kacchan’s parents, who appear just as unconscious as the rest.

Finally, he arrives at Katsuki’s room, where the blonde lies, his face slack with sleep, unmoving but still beautiful.

Izuku breathes in, Katsuki had given him permission to kiss him, even if it only was to get out of a story.

He leaned in and kissed his childhood friend, whose lips were as soft as they had been earlier in the day.

Katsuki’s red eyes slowly opened, blinking away the sleep. “You idiot.” He said, because what else would the explosive boy say? “You were Prince Philip?”

Izuku laughed. “I guess.”

He was about to tell the other teen they needed to go downstairs to greet their parents, but the world started to turn white again, as it did every time a new story was about to start.

Izuku braced himself.

#izuku x bakugo #katsuki x izuku #bakudeku #decchan #katsudeku #bkdk fic #bakudeku au #bakugo x deku #bakudeku fan fiction #bakudeku art #the beauty and the deku

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ka-za-ri · 4 years ago

Text

Sequel

Someone on Ao3 said something about showing Diavolo the tape Simeon and Lucifer made with you. Things spiraled down from there. Y'all know what kind of trash I'm all about being. A follow up to Press Play Pairing: Simeon x Diavolo x Reader Genre: PwP Smut Wordcount: ???? Tags: Smut, Porn without plot, Sub Dia, Voyeurism, size kink, dirty talk, sex toys, orgasm control, orgasm denial, pet play Summary: Simeon hatches a plan to include Diavolo in his next feature film.

There was a certain tension in the air you couldn't quite place. The pointed glances Diavolo made over his cup made you uneasy. It was made worse with how Simeon seemed blissfully unaware of just how heated the Demon Lord's gaze was whenever he glanced at the angel. You felt out of place, to say the least; but there was no getting out of a personal invitation to tea from Diavolo. "I do hope classes are going well for you." Diavolo broke the silence with mundane chit chat, though there was still the underlying feeling that he was hiding his true feelings from you. "Have you found things to do to alleviate your stress?"

Before you could speak, Simeon answered for you, his tone matched Diavolo's; chipper yet oddly restrained. "Oh yes, we've gotten into the habit of meeting up to go through a movie on Lucifer's watch list. It's quite extensive. Everyone benefits from a little stress relief at the end of the week, don't you think?" Diavolo laughed jovially, his expression no longer as tense when Simeon explained your weekly "relaxation" activities. "Oh absolutely!" Diavolo agreed. "Nothing like a good movie and some quality time with friends!" You heard his voice lilt just slightly at the end, an oddly fragile note to his overall happy-go-lucky attitude. Was that a… pout you saw forming at the corner of his mouth?

Simeon chuckled, taking a small sip of his tea, ignoring whatever signs the demon lord might have been dropping. “Yes, the quality of time spent with my dear friends has been nothing short of exquisite. It is such a shame that Lucifer is away on business this week and we will have to skip out on our regular meetup. I was so looking forward to the film this week too.”

“Oh, what was on the watch list this week?” Diavolo’s eyes lit up in excitement. “Was it something I’ve seen before?”

“Ah, we were… going to view a film we shot together.” Simeon’s smile was ironically innocent for what he had just said. The silence that followed from his statement said volumes and only added to the tension in the room.

“Oh.” Diavolo finally stuttered, blushing madly. “Lucifer has advised me of your ah… filmmaking endeavors, I hear you’re quite the director.” It was your turn to blush. Diavolo knew of what you did with Simeon and Lucifer. Lucifer told him about the film you had made. Even if it hadn’t been said out loud, you had thought the recording would have been a secret between the three of you. “Well. I uh... “ You stammered, trying to come up for a defense for yourself.

“Well, since you’ve already screened my latest work, what are your thoughts?” Simeon cut you off. The look in his eyes had changed, there was a glint of mischief and the heat in them matched Diavolo’s. “I’m always open for constructive criticism.” Diavolo looked to the side, to the ceiling, to the carpet below, anywhere but right in front of him where Simeon sat. He cleared his throat and loosened the collar on his top. “Well. If uh.. I had a say in it, I think I’d like to perhaps partake in the sequel you had planned?” his voice faltered and for once, you saw the vulnerability in his expression. Diavolo was lonely. Despite all he owned, he was feeling left out of gatherings. There was a hint of desperation in his voice as if he had put all his eggs into one basket, hoping to be included in this activity.

His expression was everything Simeon had hoped for. Diavolo had walked into every trap he and Lucifer set up for this very moment. The pleading expression and the puppy dog eyes he was giving Simeon were just a bonus. The angel’s face broke out in a wide grin while he regarded the redhead. “Well, since you asked so nicely, it’d be rude of me to not let you join us. It’d be a good surprise for Lucifer to come back to, yes?”

Diavolo’s face brightened instantly. He nearly leapt up from his seat in excitement. The tension in the room broke instantly once he heard he was to be included in your rendezvous for the week. “Oh how great! I’ll make sure my evening is free! Bar--”

Simeon silenced Diavolo with a simple gesture, holding his hand up to stop the demon prince from going too ahead of himself. “But first….” The pitch of Simeon’s voice dropped an octave. He stood up, sauntering to Diavolo and gazed deep into his eyes. “To land a role in any film, a proper audition is needed, yes?”

“Ye-yes…” Diavolo stuttered, looking down at the angel who was mere inches from his face, the smile told millions of secrets that he had only begun to unravel. In his flustered state, he didn’t even notice Simeon’s subtle movements until something was pressed into his hand. Diavolo didn’t need to look down to know what it was. The weight and the shape in his palm told him all he needed to know. Simeon retreated, satisfied once recognition flitted across Diavolo’s face. “Well, I’ll see you later tonight! I have to help tutor Luke a bit and prepare some snacks for the movie. See you!” He waved and made his way to the door. As he passed you, he slipped something into your hand.

“Prep him well, will you? He’ll need all the help he can get.”

You waited until after the door clicked shut to look down and have your suspicions confirmed. A little remote, no doubt one that was connected to the thing Diavolo had in his hand.

There was a long gap of silence, one which made the tension grow once again. The two of you stared at each other for what felt like hours and you sat there frozen in your seat. Who would make the first move? Who would speak first? Would Diavolo even consider submitting himself to such humiliation? Surely he wouldn’t? “Well…” He cleared his throat, his blush turning his cheeks as red as his hair. “Think you can help me with this?”

There was a certain charm to the way he was so sheepish and how he hesitated with his words. It made you want to take care of him, take charge and promise him everything would be all right in the end. “Of course.” You replied smoothly, pushing the shakiness out of your voice as you took control. Simeon did task you with ensuring his proper preparation, the last thing you wanted to do was disappoint the angel.

You strode over to where he was and slipped the control into your pocket for the time being. You gently guided him to bend over the arm of the chair he was just sitting in. “Relax.” you reassured. “I’m sure you’ll do just fine.”

You kicked his legs apart, making sure his knees were bent to prevent him from passing out.Your hand caressed the swell of his ass and he shivered under your touch. The smallest traces of a moan left his lips and he quickly buried his face into the cushions to hide from the shame. You hadn’t even done anything to him and he was already trembling. “Are you excited?” You asked, tracing the cleft of his ass, trailing your finger up and down the seam of his pants while you waited for an answer. You noticed the crotch area was already rather tight and you couldn’t help but smirk, realizing how affected he was by the simple gesture of being invited to movie night.

“I… I’m a little nervous.” he admitted, stuttering. The normal confidence he had around others was all but gone as he submitted himself to your touches and your approval. “I don’t… I don’t want to disappoint.”

“You could never disappoint.” You cooed, reaching around to undo his pants. “Just remember to breathe.” Your hand dipped between his legs to grasp his half hard cock, earning you a loud gasp. His dick twitched in your hand as you felt just how large he was. Even without being fully erect, he was a girthy monster, your hand was barely able to circle around his shaft and your walls clenched at the thought of possibly taking him in later that night.

“There now, see? Just like that, be good and show me how excited you are for tonight.” You encouraged, stroking his length and watching his body language change from nervous to lustful. You slid his pants down his thighs to gain better access to his cock. Looking down and seeing his member hanging hot and heavy between his legs was such an enticing sight. His balls pulsed with need, nearly ready to release his load prematurely if you kept teasing him.

“My, my, you’re quite hard already, aren’t you? I know you’re going to be perfect for the audition tonight.” You praised, letting go of his cock to palm the smooth, soft swell of his ass. He whined, once again burying his face into the cushions, ashamed at how turned on he was from just the thought of later activities and your teasing touches.

Diavolo shivered, unable to process much outside of the fact that his precious exchange student was currently making him feel a certain way he couldn’t quite comprehend. It felt good to be the center of attention. It felt good to be under you, at your mercy and letting you take the lead. It only made him anticipate the activities to come. “I’ll… I’ll do my best to impress.” “Oh, I’m sure you will.” You smiled softly and plucked the plug from his hand. Even if Simeon and Lucifer had left you out of planning to get Diavolo involved with your movie nights, you were rather satisfied with the outcome to say the least. You assessed the plug and had to admire Simeon’s taste. It was slim, long and textured in a way you imagined would tease the demon prince for hours but not enough to make him cum. You traced Diavolo’s ass crack with the tip of the toy, paying close attention to his body language and memorizing the moment you had the demon prince himself bent over and at your beck and call. “Well now… this wouldn’t be very good to go in dry…” You mused before you sauntered around him and placed the toy at his lips. “Make sure it’s nice and wet, won’t you? You wouldn’t want to get hurt taking this all in, now would you?” He looked up at you, his golden eyes filled with a fair amount of lust in them before he dutifully took the toy into his mouth, obediently licking and sucking it until it was coated with his saliva. You could see how much it hurt his pride to do such a debauched thing based on how hard he was gripping the cushion below him, but his hard cock told you how much it also turned him on. He couldn’t even hold back a moan when the plug hit the back of his throat as you pushed it in further, ensuring he got every inch of it coated. “Good boy….” You praised, patting his hair softly and admiring how pretty he was whenever he blushed. Once you deemed it adequately lubed up, you went back to his waiting ass and pressed the toy into that tight hole of his. You heard him gasp at the sudden intrusion before his whole body seemed to relax and he let out a breathy groan. In no time, he was pressing himself against the toy, willing it to go deeper and deeper into him. He was eagerly moaning at this point, cum beaded at the tip of his cock as he was finally getting the attention he craved. “Aww look at that, it went all the way in so fast.” You praised, giving his ass a quick pat before pressing the toy into him as far as it would go. He rewarded you with a particularly lewd moan when the tip of the plug brushed against his prostate and made him see stars. “You were waiting for something like this, weren’t you?” “I… I maybe…” he mumbled, his words were muffled by the cushions. It was adorable. He was so eager to join in on the fun. You could tell just how lonely he was and how jealous he had been when he found out Lucifer was having these movie nights without him. It almost made you forgive Lucifer for showing him the movie you made. Almost. You giggled once everything was in place. Getting his pants back on was no easy feat considering how hard he was, but there were still a few more hours before you were supposed to meet back up with Simeon. Not to mention, he had quite the mountain of paperwork to do still. “There you go, all nice and tidy.” You announced once he wearily buckled his belt again. The bulge in his pants looked almost painful and you resisted the urge to reach out and fondle him. Instead, your hand went to your pocket and you clicked the power button. The reaction was almost instantaneous as Diavolo doubled over, collapsed onto his knees and his whole body trembled when the toy buzzed to life. His soft, breathy moans couldn’t cover up the hum of the toy in his pants and his embarrassment was only intensified by this fact. His cock throbbed in his pants, yearning for freedom once again, but he had duties to attend to even if his mind was far removed from them. Possibly the most arousing part was how attentive you were, how much care you showed him as you toyed with his body. That, was the most erotic part of it all. He had lost all power over you and now, you controlled him at the touch of a button. You watched writhe a bit longer, admiring how his body contorted as he tried to find more stimulation somehow without begging for it. After a while, you lowered the intensity of the toy until it just barely vibrated at regular intervals just enough to remind him who was in charge. “I’m sure you have so much work to do before we get to meet up with Simeon again.” You said, acting as if nothing was wrong at all. “I actually have a report I need to work on too. Do you mind if I stay here and ask you questions?” “N-no.. not at all.” Diavolo managed to stutter out. It took all his strength to stand back up, when he did manage to get back on his feet, he felt light headed, his mind was solely focused on pleasure and not anything else he had to get done. However, with you pulling out your books and settling down at the table to get to work, he made his way back on shaky legs to his desk where his mountain of documents awaited him. Diavolo yearned to touch himself while his lower half was hidden by his desk. It would have been perfect for him to just get a little bit of relief from the torment you had wrought up on him. However, he knew better than that. He knew if he could be patient, there would be a much greater reward than the immediate relief he sought.

It was just unfortunate that he would have to suffer for hours to get to his goal. And as he finally settled down to start going over contracts with neighboring lands, the toy inside of him hummed to life once again, sending jolts of pleasure through his body until he couldn’t see straight. Just as he felt like he was about to pass out from being denied the ability to cum, the vibrations stopped and he was left on edge. Breathlessly, he would glance over to you diligently working on your report, the perfect image of innocence before him even though he knew that in your palm, you held the incarnation of sin itself.

It would be a very long afternoon indeed for him.

Diavolo wasn’t wearing a leash, but he might as well have been with how eagerly he followed after you down the long hallways and to your usual meeting room where Simeon awaited you two. The promise of snacks wasn’t a lie as the scent of popcorn and cookies got stronger the closer you got to the room. You threw the door open and grinned widely when you arrived. “We’re here!” You announced with Diavolo in tow.

The lights were already dimmed and a rather familiar film was playing on the screen. You blushed madly when you were faced with the movie you had made earlier with Lucifer and Simeon. Diavolo seemed to be absolutely entranced with the images flashing across the screen. There was an unabashed adoration that flickered across his face and a yearning you couldn’t quite place in his expression while he watched the lewd acts play out.

“And you’re late.” Simeon chided, his gaze was hard and cold. “Not a very good start to the auditioning process, now is it?” His voice cut through whatever daydream Diavolo was in and the demon prince stood up straight in attention. Ah, he’s in one of those moods… You smiled sheepishly, ushering Diavolo in and shutting the door behind you. “I’m sorry, I got wrapped up in finishing my latest report so that the rest of the weekend is free.” You explained, hoping for some mercy; though you knew it likely wasn’t going to happen.

He ignored your excuses and busied himself with setting up the camera. Simeon took one long look at Diavolo, his expression was unamused and he almost seemed bored. The angel finished fidgeting with the camera before turning to Diavolo. “I have high expectations for you. I’m hoping for a rather riveting performance.” He had the smallest of smiles on his face before gesturing to the bed. “Why don’t you start by showing me how well you can undress yourself.” Simeon took a seat in the corner of the room, crossing his legs and leaned against the armrest of the chair. His gaze never left Diavolo as the prince sheepishly climbed onto bed and started to undo the layers he had on. You moved to help him but Simeon stopped you, beckoning you over to sit on his lap while Diavolo did his thing.

“Come now, the view from here is so much nicer, isn’t it?”

You nodded dumbly, not able to resist Simeon. The sound of your moans coming from the television had you remembering exactly what he had done for you just a few weeks prior and you squirmed in his lap.

“I hope you’re looking forward to this.” The angel murmured. “It’s not every day that we are graced with the presence of Lord Diavolo himself. We should make the most of this, yes.” He smiled sweetly, grasping your breasts while he trained your gaze back at Diavolo who was in nothing but his boxers. There was a noticeable wet spot at his crotch and his hard cock strained against the soiled fabric. Even in the dark, you could clearly see the outline of it and once again, imagining what it might be like to take him.

Just as Diavolo started to peel off his boxers, Simeon stopped him with a quick gesture of his hand. The redhead audibly whined. He was so close to being free. Yet, he knew better to disobey if he wanted to impress his audience. He couldn’t help himself from stealing glances at the screen. Watching you get fucked by both a demon and an angel had him wondering just how tight you would feel beside Simeon and he hoped to experience that later that night. He licked his lips, barely aware of Simeon getting up and getting a hank of rope from one of the drawers. It wasn’t until he felt the weight of the rope on his shoulder did he realize something was happening.

“Distracted are we?” Simeon teased, covering up the screen just as the film behind him reached its final climax. The sounds of shouting and moaning echoed in the room and Diavolo blushed at just the thought of what that scene looked like. However, he had more pressing concerns to worry about in front of him. Simeon looked like the very definition of sin in that skin tight get up he wore regularly. There was a reason why he didn’t enforce the school uniform rule on the angel. The eye candy was much too tempting for him to resist.

Simeon’s fingers were deft, gracefully working Diavolo’s arms behind him and securing them in place with intricate knots. “There we go. Now, you can focus much better, yes?” Diavolo nodded, his eyes now solely entranced and fixated on Simeon. “Yes… sir.” There was a genuine smile when Diavolo let the title slip from his lips. “Oh… I like how that sounds coming from you. Call me that again when you cum.” The angel swooped in, kissing the demon prince deeply, pushing him onto his back and settling between his legs. He beckoned you to come over as well to join them. Once you joined him between Diavolo’s legs, Simeon finally started to take off the last piece of clothing he had on.

“My, my. What a mess he made.” He commented, noting the large stain on the boxers before tossing it to the side. “Did you have fun this afternoon?” You nodded, holding up the remote to the toy still inside of the man below you and pressed the button to put the vibrator on the highest setting. “I sure did!” You giggled while Diavolo screamed, writhing from the stimulation. Simeon ignored him, his attention affixed to you and his eyes were filled with pride and adoration. He stroked your hair before kissing you as Diavolo watched helplessly. When the kiss broke, you were breathless and more than ready to entertain whatever whim Simeon had.

“Now… what shall I do with you... “ Simeon finally turned to Diavolo and casually stroked the man’s length, making him squirm even more. The buzzing in his ass slowed and eventually stopped, giving him some reprieve. “Aww, the batteries must have died.” Simeon pouted. “No matter, It’s time we gave our … pet a new toy, yes?” “Sounds like a plan.” you agreed, reaching between Diavolo’s legs to slowly pull the plug out while Simeon continued to tease his dripping cock. “What did you have in mind?”

“Come with me, Let’s go looking together.” He suggested, leaving Diavolo right at the edge of a climax. “The night is still young, my prince. There’s so much fun to be had.”

Diavolo was left in silence as Simeon led you away to a corner of the room he could not see from his place on the bed. HIs mind raced with the possibilities of what was to come and it only made his dick twitch in anticipation. A small puddle of cum pooled on his abdomen as his cock continued to leak and when Simeon came back to see the mess, he could only tsk at how poorly Diavolo was misbehaving. “My, my…” He chided, smearing the fluids across Diavolo’s abdomen. “This just won’t do.” He shook his head, feigning disappointment before selecting a cock ring and securing it around the base of his shaft. Diavolo hissed at the feeling of being so restricted after just having a taste of freedom. “There….” Simeon smiled, patting his member. “Now we can have all the fun we want without worrying that you’ll cum too soon.” His expression was so sweet, it almost made Diavolo sick, but he didn’t have much time to dwell on that fact. Part of playing with him meant you and Simeon dressed him up in the prettiest toys you had. Nipple clamps with bright red jewels were affixed to his chest. A delicate chain connected them and that was soon attached to the collar you placed around his neck. “A proper leash for a proper pet.” You explained, patting his cheek softly. His heart melted seeing you so content. Your touches sent him right into bliss. The pain at his chest felt negligible when he was able to bask in the attention he was getting. It had been so long since he had been pampered in such a way. He had missed those intimate touches, those longing looks. He craved being coddled and here you and Simeon were, giving everything he could dream of. Though he was barred from entering heaven, he wanted to believe that what he was experiencing in that very moment was akin to paradise. Diavolo struggled against his bindings, wanting to return the favor, he wanted to thank the two of you for showing him what it felt like to be adored. He whined, putting on the most impressive pout he could muster. “Please… I want to touch…” Simeon paused in the middle of undressing you and scoffed at the request. “A little early for begging, isn’t it?” He mused before completing his task. “Our pet’s a little talkative, why don’t you shut him up while I do a little disciplining?” You nodded, crawling up Diavolo’s side and straddled his face. You pat his head once more before lowering yourself over his lips. “Keep me entertained, why don’t you? I promise if you do a good job I’ll sit on that fat cock of yours.” You didn’t give him time to reply before grinding yourself down onto his face and letting his tongue do the work.

Simeon smirked, parting Diavolo’s legs so he could properly situate himself between them. He could spend hours watching you ride the prince’s face if only he didn’t have more important things to do. The angel waited for you to get a hold of the headboard to keep yourself stable while grinding down on Diavolo’s face in between breaths. From the sounds of your moans and your breathy sighs, it seemed as though the prince had quite the talented tongue. Simeon wondered briefly what it would feel like if he was in your position before he steered his focus back to what was right in front of him. Having prepped Diavolo earlier meant that the toy he had chosen slid in with little resistance. In fact, it was as if the thick dildo was being sucked into the prince’s hole with how easily it went in. “My, oh my….” Simeon mused, impressed with how quickly Diavolo seemed to adjust to taking the toy. “We really do have to teach you patience, don’t we?” Simeon started a sinfully slow pace, fucking Diavolo with the toy and simply taking the time to admire every reaction he was able to pull out of the man below him. His moans were muffled but there was no denying the pleasure he was getting out of this. It only made it more sweet to torment him and deny him his climax.

Time and time again, he would pull the toy almost all the way out before inching it back inside. Even with the cock ring on, Diavolo’s member throbbed and his seed dribbled from the tip. Simeon made sure to tease the rest of the demon’s body, tugging at the chains to the nipple clamps, placing soft kisses all along his thighs and pelvis but pointedly ignoring the aching cock that begged for attention. He loved seeing Diavolo’s muscles tighten anytime he was close to getting what he craved and only drove him to tease the man below him right to his breaking point.

He counted the times you came on top of Diavolo and decided that maybe after your second orgasm you could rest a while before he finally ramped the pace up. “Rest a bit and watch,” Simeon gently guided your tired body to where he sat, letting you sidle up against him in content while he continued his work. He worked in a methodical, almost calloused way when it came to controlling every aspect of Diavolo’s pleasure that evening. It was equal parts arousing, amazing and terrifying to you just what Simeon was capable of. Diavolo gasped for air once you were no longer on top of him. He stared at the ceiling, not sure what he should do next. The taste of your essence lingered on his lips. He was sure he could have continued until he either passed out from lack of oxygen or you did from overstimulation. Unfortunately, that scenario would only remain being a dream and he could only daydream about it. He was instantly snapped back to reality when Simeon roughly shoved the dildo that had only been teasing him all the way in without warning.

The prince let out a choked cry, his whole body tensing in the sudden roughness. He loved it, he loved every second of the sweet torture the two of you had come up with. He couldn’t tell when the pleasure stopped and the pain began, but he didn’t care. He wanted more of it, he craved the attention and would do anything to be on the receiving end of it. Glancing down between his legs, his heart skipped a beat when he saw how happy and content you were snuggled up against Simeon who was relentlessly fucking him. There was a tenderness in your expression that he wished you would direct his way.

“Look at you… So sensitive.” Simeon cooed, tugging at the chains attached to Diavolo’s sensitive nipples. “I’ll bet you could have just cum without me touching your cock at all. You’re that much of a needy slut,, aren’t you?” He chuckled, slamming the toy inside of the prince once again.

“Y.. Yes…” Diavolo sputtered arching into the thrust, wishing that the toy would go deeper, stretch him wider, do something to tip him over the edge. “I… I need…”

“You need?” Simeon repeated. “We’ll have to teach you some lessons, now. Good pets don’t need anything. They beg for what they want.”

“I… I ahhh~~” Diavolo’s brain short circuited when you had grabbed a nearby vibrator and pressed it against the tip of his cock. Whatever he wanted to say promptly flew out the window as he was thrown into a world of bliss. “I… I…” “Use your words.” You encouraged, turning the vibrator on higher. “I can’t understand what you’re saying.”

He wanted to fuck. He wanted to be fucked. He wanted everything all at once but he couldn’t express it with how overloaded his senses were. “I … I want to…”

“Go on.”

“I want to fuck… I want to fuck you and cum… please. I want to cum so bad. I did good, right? You weren’t bored right? I can keep being good, just let me cum, please, please please. I’ll be the best slut you’ve ever seen.”

You looked up at Simeon, wondering if the angel approved of Diavolo’s groveling. His expression betrayed none of his emotions and he simply pressed the toy further into Diavolo’s ass, garnering a loud, appreciative moan from the man beneath him. “Very bold words… I hope you’re ready to live up to them…” He said quietly.

“Yes, yes. I promise I will! I’ll do so good. I’m a slut, a fuck toy for your entertainment. I’ll do anything for you. Please, just… I want to cum so bad. Can I please?”

“Hmmm” Simeon hummed softly, carefully considering Diavolo’s words. “Yes, you may.”

Diavolo gasped, his heart nearly beating out of his chest when he received permission. However, his excitement soon grew into dismay when Simeon produced a long length of ribbon to tie the vibrator against his cock. “Wh.. wait, you said I could cum…” He whined. “I said you may, I did not say when.” Simeon stated smoothly. He reinforced his statement by turning the toy onto its highest setting before he pulled you into his lap. The angel had your back towards him and he spread your thighs out to let Diavolo see just how drenched you were. Simeon reached between your legs and spread your lower lips, toying with your clit and making you moan in need. He wasn’t ready to reward his new pet just yet.

What he was ready for was making Diavolo watch you getting fucked. There wasn’t enough desperation yet, not enough hopeless need coming from the prince. “Is this what you want?” Simeon asked, grunting as he was balls deep inside of you. “Is this what you want to feel? How hot they are? How tight they’re going to be around your cock?” The pace he set was hard and fast. You had craved being filled after being eaten out so thoroughly before and Simeon’s cock was filling every craving you had. You ground your hips down to meet every one of his thrusts, loudly moaning every time his cock hit the most sensitive spots inside of you. It wouldn’t be long before you would be climaxing around him and he knew it. As soon as he felt your walls fluttering around him, he slowed his pace and let your racing heart calm down just enough to leave you hanging.

You whined squirming in Simeonn’s lap, hoping he’d keep going, but he stayed still and observed Diavolo’s expression instead. You followed his gaze and you were met with the most delightful visage of the debauched prince, blushing and desperate for attention. Tears were freely flowing from his eyes as he babbled incoherently, begging to experience the same thing he was witnessing.

“Please… sir, I want to cum” His voice cracked. “May I now please cum?” “What do you think? Do you think he’s deserved it?”

You pretended to ponder over your answer, dragging out Diavolo’s torture for a few moments more. “I think he’s done well enough to be rewarded.”

“Hmm, I think so too.” Simeon agreed.

He was loathed to leave the warmth of your pussy as he laid you down on the bed; but he was sure his cock would be satisfied soon enough in other ways. The toys were taken away, the cock ring removed and Simeon waited a moment for Diavolo to get his wits about him before offering your body up. “Well, go on. You’ve earned it.”

Even with his arms still bound behind him, he was able to roll onto his sides and bring himself onto his knees. It was rather impressive, to say the least how quickly he got between your legs and plunged himself into your waiting hole. Though Simeon’s cock had stretched you out earlier, nothing compared to how full you felt once Diavolo was sheathed within you. You wanted to savor the moment, but there was no time to think as he started to pound you with his cock.

It was your turn to be a blubbering mess. The fullness, the roughness, the wanton need that oozed out of his very being was intoxicating and you were lost in the pleasure of it all. “Oh, good boy.” you praised, reaching up and pulling on his hair to encourage him to keep going. “What a good slut you are.” Hearing your praise only made him go feral with need and he redoubled his efforts to gain more of your compliments. Diavolo was so lost in the moment, he nearly forgot Simeon was there until he felt something warm press up against his ass hole. His pace stuttered and he looked back in confusion. That bit of disobedience was met with a hard slap across his ass cheek. “No one said you could stop.” Simeon hissed, pressing himself into Diavolo.

“Prove to me how good of a slut you are and make us cum at the same time.” He demanded.

This was it. His final test. He put everything he had into turning himself into the perfect pet, the ideal fuck toy for the two of you. Diavolo resumed his pace inside of you, making his strokes long and hard while his ass clenched around Simeon’s cock to ensure the man behind him was enjoying the hot tightness there. His own pleasure didn’t matter to him anymore, it was pleasure in itself to serve the two of you.

Euphoria was reached when he was the best slut in your eyes.

Diavolo did as he was promised, making both you and Simeon climax at the same time. You were the first to crumble. Your inner walls clenched around his cock, sucking him in deeper, milking him. All the while, Simeon’s thrusts became erratic as he reached his climax and spilled his seed deep into the demon prince. The moans coming from his lips were the most delightful symphony.

“Go on, show us how pretty you are when you cum.”

Finally having the permission to climax, Diavolo slammed himself into you, burying himself as deep as he could go before releasing his load into you. The hot spurts of his seed filled you and you swore you came again just from that feeling alone. The groan that came from the back of his throat sounded more like a possessive growl to you and the heat behind his golden eyes was practically palpable.

It took a long moment for the three of you to come down from the high of such an intense climax. Simeon was the first to recover. He carefully extracted himself from Diavolo and went about finding some towels to help clean up the worst of the mess you had all made. Along with that came the snacks he had baked earlier and water. Setting everything aside, he finally freed Diavolo’s arms and the demon prince visibly slouched in relief as his aching muscles finally got a chance to relax.

He wasn’t ready to leave the warm confines of your pussy just yet and shifted himself to cradle you against his chest while Simeon fed you cookies and made you sip some water. Diavolo’s fingers brushed your tousled hair and you stared at you with nothing but admiration in his eyes. “So, do you think I’d get a callback after that audition?”

Simeon chuckled softly, sliding back into bed with a bowl of popcorn and offered some water to the prince who gulped it down eagerly. “Absolutely. You’re the perfect fit for the role.”

#Shall we date Obey me #obey me!#Obey Me Diavolo #Obey Me Simeon #Simeon x Diavolo x reader #Obey me smut #obey me fanfiction #Hoo buddy I lost sanity writing this since I wanted to fit so much in here #unedited bc yolo #Read the tags you've been warned #Sub Diavolo #Dom Simeon #I'm a simple writer with simple wishes and that's just the hope and the prayer that y'all get wrecked by this fic

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dracosathenaeum · 4 years ago

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Great Love Story | Part 2 | D.M.

A/N: I will apologise that this took so long. This is honestly 70% smut but don't worry part 3 will fix all the loose ends and should come out faster than this did lmao

Warnings: cheating, smut, angst

Word Count: 2,858

PART 1

“I thought I told you to keep quiet.”

You stared open mouthed at the sight of Pansy pushing a blonde against the wall of a hidden corridor. Moans poured out of her mouth as Pansy nipped at her neck; fingers underneath the blonde’s skirt moving in motions she recognised all too well.

A mixture of embarrassment and anger flooded through you; the same kind you felt watching Draco that day in the great hall. How was this fair? Pansy had taken everything from you, but she didn’t even want him. Had she taken him from you just to prove a point? You weren’t good enough for him and you knew that; but it didn’t mean you didn’t love him any less than he deserved to be loved.

Was she toying with the both of you? You had seen the way he had looked at her in the great hall but when you thought back you hadn’t even bothered to focus on Pansy’s expression or actions through your jealousy tainted vision.

You pulled your eyes away from the two lovers, rushing towards your common room once you realised, you’d probably been stood there a second too long. It would be more than embarrassing to say the least if they had caught you staring at them.

You kept your head down, eyes cast on the floor as you mulled over what you would say to Draco if you decided to say anything at all that was. As it happened you had far less time to deliberate than you had thought, you had been so worried about whether or not to tell him that you didn’t notice him standing in your path.

“Running late to your dick appointment?” A sneer had ripped out of Draco, a side of Draco you were used to seeing but not receiving.

You stopped dead in your tracks and let loose your guilt without a second thought.

“Pansy is cheating on you. With Luna. I’m really sorry.” It doesn’t matter if he didn’t want you back, he deserved to know. You were just being a decent human being; well that’s what you told yourself anyways. He looked at you with a hint anger in his eyes but at least you knew he had believed your words, well, at least you had hoped.

He had quickly schooled his expression into a blank stare, nothing to betray how he truly felt. “Thank you, I’ll speak to her about it.” Curt and to the point, no openings for further conversations. He walked away from you this time and it was clear what this had meant.

As a heavy weight in your stomach overpowered the hammering of your heart, you realise it was hope you had been feeling; hope that had fuelled your heart but maybe now your traitorous heart would realise he was gone for good. How many times would you allow yourself to hope before finally realising he wasn’t coming back to you?

You were going to go mad. A 7-page essay due the next week and you couldn’t understand half the divination gibberish laid out onto the pages in front of you. Usually Draco would be sat with you, both teasing and teaching you.

He’d mock Professor Trelawny; impersonating her to the point you had tears in your eyes and stitches in your sides. Though most of his impressions had been meant to be a mockery; half of what you had managed to scribble down plus pages of waffle would usually get you one of the top grades in the class. This would only feed Draco’s ego, so you never told him but as you sit swimming in tea leaves you realise, you’d do anything to hear his stupid words again.

“Uh I don’t mean to interrupt but do you need some help?” You look up, red flushing your cheeks as you remembered you weren’t alone in the library, casually ripping at your own hair.

“That obvious I’m struggling?” Theo only replied with a soft grin before instantly delving into some story from 4th year. Conversation flowed easily between the two of you and you were glad for a change in atmosphere from a friendly face.

That was how Draco had found you; head tilted back, a look of pure enjoyment across your features. He hadn’t heard your laugh in a while, and he hadn’t realised how much he missed it; though his reminiscing only lasted so long before he realised who you were sat with.

Theo Notts. He had the same friendship with Blaise as with Theo and he trusted him. He really did. But it didn’t matter that he had been a lifelong friend, what mattered was the way he looked at you as you laughed. The same way he knew he looked at you. Or so his brain convinced him.

“You’re welcome.”

“Welcome for what?” You wiped the tears from your eyes as you asked, still trying to catch your breathe. You had spoken to Blaise and Theo a hundred times before but never as a friend, only as Draco’s girlfriend. He had made you laugh harder than you had in months with one simple story about your loony professor.

He didn’t have to answer before you found yourself dragged out of the library. You had been so focused on not tripping over your own two feet that you hadn’t seen the wink Theo had thrown at Draco and the scowl Draco had thrown back at him.

You didn’t have to look up to know who had pulled you away, the familiar feel of cool fingers around your hand and the press of his signet ring was enough to know it was Draco.

Once you had steadied your footing (and gathered the courage to look up) you saw the familiar door of the room of requirement opening for the both of you. He slammed the door closed behind you before pushing you up against it, trapping you against it with his body.

“Was he the one you’ve been shagging?”

You laughed. Perhaps even harder than you had with Theo just seconds before hand, laughed so hard Draco had to pull away to give you room to breathe and to clutch your sides as you doubled over. The irony in this was concerning; this was the second time he had acted out, as if returning to the role of jealous boyfriend that was no longer his to fill out.

Your wiped at the tears falling from your eyes for the second time that day; evening out your breathes to reply, “Who does it matter who I shag when you’ve probably gotten every STD out there from Pansy?”

You barely finish your sentence before he has you against the wall again, mouth angrily moving over yours. It was like listening to your favourite childhood song where the lyrics would come back to you without having to even think about it. Your lips moved together the same as they had done a thousand times before, your arms finding themselves linked around his neck whilst his own rested on your waist pulling you flush against his body.

“Draco wait-”

“You don’t get to talk without my permission, understood?”

You nod as his lips move over the column of your neck; you were too far gone to worry over him feeling your pulse practically jumping out of your neck.

“Use words.”

“Yes” you all but moan.

He gathers your wrists in one hand to pin above your head as he brings his mouth back to yours; his free hand gliding up the thigh that’s hiked across his hip, hand dipping under the skirt with ease as he’d done so many times previously.

Just as his fingers reach where you needed him the most they stopped. Your lips stop their movement against his; worried he’d suddenly snap out of what was happening and realise what was happening. Worried that he’d leave you. Again.

His hand leaves your skirt to tilt your chin to face him as he pulls away, a string of saliva connecting your lips. “Do you want to stop now, or do you want to keep going?”

Your heart skipped a beat, consent was the bare minimum and you knew that, but it was the way he had looked at you as he asked, the softness in his tone and in his eyes that made you think the old him had come back to you. That made you want to beg for him not to stop.

You opened your eyes again once his lips started their ministrations back on the column of your neck. You had wanted this for the past month, you had wanted his attention and his love so why is that when you were finally getting it you weren’t so sure anymore.

“If you’re uncomfortable we can stop but don’t feel guilty about Parkinson.” It was like a bucket of cold water had been thrown over your fevered body. Pansy. How could you have forgotten he was a taken man?

You knew that this was so wrong, knew that in your bones but some sick twisted part of your brain thought that if she could have Draco and throw him away to be with Luna and Merlin knows who else; this was just you claiming back what was rightfully yours. Right?

“Are you going to give me an answer? Consent would be greatly appreciated.”

“Please” your eyes held steady as you answered, this was it, this was you winning him back. You ignored your brain; the thoughts that caused a weight to hang over your brain. And instead you focused on full your heart felt; of how comfortable your body felt to be back in his arms.

“I need a yes or no.”

“Yes.”

The switch was suddenly flicked back on as Draco wasted no time, two fingers dipping into your mouth that you greedily sucked on without a moment’s hesitation.

His other hand had reached down and back up your skirt, you had thought he’d simply pull the cotton to one side, but he instead tore at it, throwing the scrap of fabric carelessly beside you.

“I liked that pair!” Was what you had tried to say but with two fingers caressing your tongue it was more like incoherent dribbling.

Once he was apparently satisfied with you, his coated fingers swiftly moved to part your folds before slipping inside of you. His hand that have previously ruined your favourite pair of underwear drew circles around your clit as his other set a merciless rhythm inside of you, deliberately avoiding that spot inside of you that would have you keening over.

Draco kept his head close to yours, but each time you’d try to reach up to join your lips he’d pull away slightly, “I want to hear you.”

You clenched hard around his fingers at his words, it had been so long since he had touched you in any way and your fingers just weren’t enough for you anymore. Not after getting used to what Draco would give you.

“I’m so close. Please don’t stop.” His fingers kept at their pace, but just as your stomach tensed, just as you were about to fall over the edge. He pulled both hands pull away from you, wrapping around your waist to pick you up instead.

You didn’t have time to be angry at him, half a groan falling from your lips before his mouth claimed yours, hands ripping at the rest of your clothes as you fell backwards onto the bed, Draco falling on top of you. Your own fingers fumbled with his belt and tore at his shirt when the buttons refused to undo.

“Get on your knees and face the mirror.” You didn’t need to be told twice; hands resting on the end of the bed as your knees spread to accommodate him, eyes finding his in the mirror.

You watched his eyes as they traced up and down your bare body, appreciating the view of both sides due to the mirror. He lined the tip of his cock with your entrance; your lips trapped between your own teeth as you waited for him to give you what you had been waiting weeks for.

He slid in with ease, but you winced slightly at the pain that followed the pleasure. He stilled, allowed you to adjust, hands running across your body and mouth at your neck trying to reduce the stretch as he bottomed out.

You clenched around him as a sign he could move but he instead brought your upper body up with him, so your back was to his chest. You could both see everything in the mirror in this position; his hands that cupped your breasts and supported you as well as the place his body joined with yours. You couldn’t feel anything but him; surrounded by the scent, feel and taste of him and there was nowhere else you’d ever want to be.

His first thrust had moans falling from your lips, the same you had heard Luna try to muffle the same morning.

The second had you trying to squeeze your legs together at the pleasure, his tensed thighs not allowing you to move an inch. You had gone so long without this, so long that the pleasure was too much.

The third had you falling apart, head falling forward as you came hard; the build up from weeks on unsatisfactory orgasms and him not letting you over the edge before had you coming in an embarrassingly short amount of time.

Draco had continued his thrusts throughout your orgasm but as you looked into the mirror the cocky smirk on his face gave away his true feelings. Cocky bastard.

“Good girls don’t cum without permission.” You whimpered. You were so sensitive, but you weren’t done yet, not by any means.

“I’m sorry, I’ll be good I promise.” He apparently liked that answer as he shifted his hips slightly to angle his hips to repeatedly hit that one spot he had been avoiding so far. You let out a sound you didn’t know you were capable as his continued his thrusts that had your thighs shaking and thoughts empty.

“No one else could make you feel this good, I’m the only one aren’t I love?” You let out something between a cry and a moan when he stopped his actions, waiting for your answer. You were half delirious, hips shifting against his as you tried to bring back the friction that you needed.

When it was clear he wouldn’t be moving again until he got the response, he wanted you w

racked your brain, “Only you, it’s only ever been you I swear.” If your mind was slightly clearing you might’ve seen the irony in this, the idea that he was it for you, but he had someone else waiting for him in bed.

Sharp teeth nibbled at you ear, warmth breathe washing over it as he whispered, “If you’re good I’ll let you cum again.” If you weren’t so embarrassed from how quickly you had cum before you might not have been so successful in holding back your second orgasm from those words alone. He knew exactly which parts of your body to touch, to kiss or to simply breathe on that would have you shaking from overstimulation.

His hips suddenly snapped back up, quickly regaining the brutal pace before. You threw you head back against his shoulder, if you looked into the mirror again you were worried you’d cum again; the sight of him, thick and hard disappearing into you over and over again as his eyes would find yours, his fingers and mouth marking you as his.

You couldn’t bear to watch yourself anymore, not tonight at least, but you believed you would have an infinite number of opportunities to do so in the future.

“Oh, god-”

One of his fingers had slipped down to your most sensitive part as you got lost in your thoughts, his mouth once again asking you to look in the mirror.

“Cum.” The built-up coil in your abdomen suddenly let go and you couldn’t stop yourself from falling forward, leaving your entire body weight in his arm that wasn’t still on your clit working you through your orgasm.

“Good girl.”

He had taken you a further three times, finishing only twice himself compared to your five. Your entire body ached; head clearer than it had been in weeks but so content that you couldn’t stop yourself whispering the three words you had longed to hear from him again.

“I lov-”

“Don’t. Don’t say it.” There would be time to say it again is what you told yourself as you laid beside him. Usually he’d throw an arm around you and bask in the afterglow with you, softly tracing shapes across your back. Instead, you found yourself waiting for the tell-tale signs of his changing breathes before slipping under his arm and resting your cheek on his chest; telling yourself he’d still be there when you woke up.

You woke up to cold sheets and a heavy heart.

PART 3

TAGLIST: @bbeauttyybbx @pipppaaaaalouisee @theslytherinprincessworld @fangirl-3d2y @tttyrus @scriptingslytherin @justmimithings @purpleskymalfoy @minigigglybabi @505weasleys @secretaccshh @obbrssession @whatwoulddracodo @thatoneniceslytherin @thehumanistsdiary @mariah-can-dream @futureofanthropology @ccabian @tobarmaidswhodontcount @dray-cookies @xuckduck @dreamyginny @dracofeltonmalfoy @lord-byron @inglourious-imagines @audreythehufflepuff @beiahadid @moonlightorbit @imonlyherecauseimbored @dracosgoodgirl @dreaming-about-fanfictions @goldenxreid @avengers-end-me @sad-bitch-h0ur @zhangyixingxing1 @yourenotafailureoverall @pastelpuffbar @miso-tang @pixiedustsupplyco @harry-and-draco-loves @tsukibaby @dracoswhore007 @hogwartslut @mischiefisbeingmanaged @raylovessarcasm @drxcomvlfx @dracosballs @standingandstaring @its-chickenwing-450 @iamproudtobeaslytherin @mischiefisbeingmanaged @pxroxide-prinxcesss @slytherinxraven @jinnbie @lunalovegoodsgirlfriend @Utzelh8 @gloryekaterina @capkatie @jquick-18 @imcedricdiggorys @osterfieldnholland @explxsion @big-galaxy-chaos @malfoycrave @softlyqoos @krazykendraisnotinsane @minsuuwu @lumlfy @mllzhxrrs44 @weasleyis0urking @slytherinwh0re @sydnee-kom-spacekru

People who asked for a part 2!: @america0105 @lana-isabelle @persephone-archives @tomhollandisabae @dracoxmgg @babydol @youknowiloveyou-so @swiftingday @joselyn001 @sushiims @fuyumiworld

#Draco malfoy #harry potter #draco x reader #Draco Malfoy smut #draco smut #Draco x y/n #Draco Malfoy x reader #Draco Malfoy x y/n #draco x female reader #Draco Malfoy fanfiction

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chidoroki · 3 years ago

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Isabella - 73584

I had a serious debate with myself over whether or not I wanted to sit down and spend my weekend writing another one of these praise posts. I was content with just doing one for each of the Fullscore Trio kids and ending it there.. but apparently I love this woman too much to just ignore her on her birthday. So here were are on September 9th with a list of all her best and my personal favorite moments as to why I believe she’s such a great character, antagonist and mother (yeah you heard me right). Considering she only shows up in the beginning and very end of the story, this post ended up longer than I originally anticipated, which just goes to show how many thoughts I really have about this woman. (for real, this rivals Ray’s post in terms of points but there’s far more words)

Since she also has some backstory and certain events differ between manga and anime (thanks to the second season), I’ll try to go in chronological order between both timelines instead of chapter by chapter, which might be a bit confusing as we’ll jump around the story a lot but just to bear with me as I try to makes sense of it all.

(spoilers for the entirety of The Promised Neverland & ch181.7, so if you haven’t read/completed the manga yet, consider this your first warning, because I’m literally going from start to finish with this one last time. I promise.)

- I’m not sure how well she compares to Emma when it comes to athleticism, but Isabella seemed to have no trouble climbing up and down trees when she was younger.

- Not only that, but she managed to scale the wall by herself using a method that requires a fairly impressive jump. It’s also implied that this is how she climbs the wall again so many years later when chasing the soon-to-be escapees, which helps prove that even at an older age, she hasn’t lost her touch.

- Was chosen to undergo training to become a Mom, which required high test scores and the current mother’s recommendation. She accepted the offer in order to keep living and survive as human the demons couldn’t eat.

- Based on Sienna’s comment, is it fair to say Isabella is on par with the full score trio? I mean, the woman is basically flawless.

- She was practically untouchable during her time at headquarters while training too apparently. Mom positions are scarce so the environment where these ladies fight (physically/mentally/emotionally) to even snag that job is highly competitive, and yet Isabella never let anyone deter her from her goal of becoming a Mom, which probably led to the “Iron Lady” nickname she received now that I think about it.

- She was the youngest ever to be granted the Mom position at..what, 19? 20? Somewhere around there, but impressive nonetheless considering they’re forced to have a child, build up a strong, emotionless exterior and endure so much fear. (but my goodness, the woman doesn’t age at all. she looks just as good when the story actually starts as she did her when she was a bit younger)

- It became common knowledge among the Sisters that she was also very successful in the way she raised her children.

- Her success greatly benefited the farm, as she offered up countless high quality goods, which sounds terrible, I know, but believe me when I say she gave her best effort for her children. Even though she held the Mom position, the amount of power she actually had in this system was pretty minimal, especially with how much she valued her own life. She couldn’t afford to make any mistakes or risky changes, so she settled with doing the most with what she was capable of. She provided her children with a normal lifestyle, not only to keep up the orphanage facade, but knowing that their lives would all be cut shorter than they anticipate. She gave them love in hopes that no one would ever have to feel the dread she felt after Leslie’s death and/or finding out the truth. She tried to delay that horrific fate by encouraging them to learn all they can (like teaching the trio about strategy and chess) so they could achieve higher tests scores and (unknowingly to them) add a couple more months or years onto their lives. Yes it was her job to raise these children to such high standards but she excelled at it for their sake too.

- And I know y’all will just throw Ray in my face like, “oh but he was her actual child and she treated him horribly/different.” Okay but deep down I don’t think she actually wanted to? When they both realized they were truly mother and son, Isabella couldn’t just dote on him and start treating him as such. I’m sure Ray wasn’t too fond of Isabella at this point in his life either, knowing that she sent several of his siblings away to get killed. They probably would’ve gotten along just fine in a perfect world, but since they were both aware of the hell they’re trapped living in, they emotionally distanced themselves and formed a business-like relationship as a result of Ray’s deal, which benefited them both in different ways. For Ray, it was more practical, with the obvious notion of living as long as possible along with obtaining various rewards and knowledge of the outside world. For Isabella, it helped emotionally by simply just ignoring their true relation. I believe if she clung to that realization, it would break the orphanage illusion and eventually wear down her “Iron Lady” exterior that she relies so heavily on.

- Like can you imagine how much you would have to harden your heart in order to quite literally walk children to their death every couple months for years on end and just move on like it’s completely normal? Now imagine how earth shattering it must be to think about doing the same to your actual child. All those years spent perfecting a fake smile and emotionless exterior like she was trained to have and her son shatters it in an instant. She becomes completely terrified about how he’s actually alive and in front of her right now and there’s nothing she can do to truly save him.. and yet she still recovers so damn quickly I can’t even comprehend it! But there’s still some sadness in those eyes. You can’t tell me otherwise. That one moment of weakness speaks volumes to me.

- So now with her general backstory FINALLY out of the way, we can finally start with ch01/ep01 and how her laugh is sweet and innocent. I say that because (all hidden emotions and motives aside) that’s exactly how she’s supposed to sound in this moment, not only to us but to the children as well.

- She of course checks Emma’s tracker a moment later but other than that I still think it’s a pretty genuine moment between the two.

- As previously stated, her ability to raise high quality children is unmatched, which is clear as day thanks to the fullscore trio.

- Despite their crazy level of intelligence, the trio has yet to win a simple game of chess against Isabella, even when teamed up.

- She treasures everything about the kids.

- She really cares about them, even when it’s time to send them off with a smile, which we know is thanks to her strong facade.

- But mother dearest isn’t really fine. She doesn’t like walking kids to their death, especially so young. But she can’t let them (or even herself) know that. She can’t show weakness, so she hums Leslie’s song, which is a tool she’s used for years in order to give herself strength.

- Don’t worry, I disliked her this moment happened too, just as the story intended. And here’s where her fantastic antagonist role begins for all the world to see.

- A true champ at jump scares.

- Acts completely calm the night after a couple of kids found out the secret of the farm.

- She uses the tracker in plain sight, sending whomever went to the gate last night a threatening but silent message.

- Correct Norman, that’s the “Iron Lady” for ya. Also the name of ch03 for us. Well, “The Iron Woman” but same difference.

- She switches from calculating and manipulative breeder to sweet and pleasant mother so quickly and effortlessly it’s incredible. Isabella even checked Emma’s pulse in this scene to see if she was acting normal.

- At this point she still had no idea who went to the gate (Ray didn’t tip her off yet, at least I don’t think so) but her guess couldn’t have been more precise. The level of fear she drives into both Emma and Norman was great too, but then again her presence is enough in any scene to give us chills.

- Notices her watchdog isn’t at his usual post and starts to get suspicious.

- Not only of him, Emma and Norman, but Don and Gilda as well, thus giving the five extra chores to finish in an attempt to slow down any escape planning, such as cleaning vacant rooms, organizing the pantry and inspecting spare linen.

- While the trio believes Isabella was being too soft and patient in finding her targets, she effectively catches them off guard by bringing in Krone for assistance. The trio soon realize they were actually preparing the sister’s new room and those mundane chores were just an excuse to buy time.

- Look at her, all smug. Checkmate indeed. (and totally not important, but her eyes are such pretty shades of purple)

- The sass and her no nonsense attitude.

- Immediately puts Krone in her place the moment she even thinks about shipping out the targets. Of course holding off on shipping the targets would benefit the farm, as it would produce higher quality merchandise as time passes, but plant 3 is run by Isabella and she’ll be damned if an assistant thinks they could waltz right in and decide her children’s fate.

- She check’s Emma tracker again despite her claim of knowing exactly who the targets might be. You can never be too careful.

- Her precious children managed to win a game of tag against Krone, which is still impressive considering the kind of training the sister has gone through, so kudos to her teachings.

- Knows right away that Krone was trying to take advantage, which allows Krone to realize that the opening she had to learn more about the children was all planned by Isabella herself. Her intimidating nature is enough to scare adults too.

- Reveals that Krone was mostly summoned in order to keep Ray in check after his failure.

- Despite the trust issue, Isabella still keeps up her end of the deal by requesting the items Ray asked for, thanks to the odd perks she had under Grandma Sarah which allowed her to order goods that weren’t on the supply list.

- This hug between her and Phil is just too cute not to mention.

- I imagine she makes this comment because she knows exactly how long a rope must be based off her own almost-escape.

- It’s just something about how this scene is framed alongside this dialogue that makes me think “oh, like mother, like son.”

- I blame her very thoughtful planning for my first big freak out when I watched season 1 blind, like ma’am that’s my favorite boy, please don’t.

- She conspires with Grandma Sarah in order to get rid of Krone for good, which renders the evidence sister just found out about the children’s escape completely useless. Sarah believes there might be some truth to it, but ultimately ignores it and puts her faith in Isabella’s ability of controlling the children & the situation.

- She then cuts Ray off and ends their six-year long deal, opting to control the situation herself from now on. Also, how she wanted to keep him around until the very end is kinda bittersweet. Does she mean as merchandise? Or because she wanted him to live as long as possible? Ah such a tricky little comment.

- She also tosses him across the room like a rag doll.

- Thank god for this panel existing and actually being adapted into the anime so I could hear it because I had absolutely no memory of her laughing in this moment.

- “She says it so nonchalantly,” Norman said once upon a time, and it’s still so frightening.

- As insane as her ideals seem given the circumstances, nothing she says here is really a lie.

- She has the strength to quite literally break a leg and that cracking noise still haunts me to this day.

- It wasn’t even a spur of the moment thing either. Isabella came fully prepared with bandages to fix up any injury she was willing to inflict and that thought alone is terrifying.

- Not only that, but she broke it so cleanly that Emma’s leg does indeed heal perfectly in the exact time frame she estimates. This entire moment is so unfairly impressive, like ma’am how dare you do this to Emma of all people.. like why couldn’t you at least use that kind of force to snap Peter’s neck instead or something?

- To make matters worse, she then reveals Norman’s shipment date. And it’s the following day, which sends the kids into a very understandable panic.

- Needless to say, November 2nd, 2045 was a very successful day in the life of Isabella. Woman was putting everyone in checkmate in ep08 and my anger on full blast.

- This sly smile she sends Ray’s way after announcing Norman’s shipment to the younger kids is so cruel.. it’s perfect.

- I can only imagine she asked about Ray’s whereabouts because she knew the boys were close friends and she hoped they would at least say goodbye to one another, but that’s just me.

- Puts an end to Norman’s parting words in such a simple and chilling matter.

- The way she just openly threatens Emma with others just out of earshot.

- Norman out here asking the real questions. If anything, I say she’s more “content” rather than happy. I don’t think she’s ever really thought about her own happiness, at least not often enough, hence the slight pause. This entire time she’s been focusing on how to make her children’s lives perfect, but for herself she just wants to survive in this hellish world they’re all living in.

- I’m honestly still not sure who’s final decision it is to send people to Lambda, either Isabella, Peter or someone else (honestly never bothered to check), but whether or not Isabella had any say in the matter, I’m sure she’s at least a little glad that Norman gets to live a bit longer? Perhaps that’s a stretch, but I’m putting the idea here anyway.

- I say this because I believe that’s part of the reason why she offered Emma a Mom recommendation, not only because our girl’s high test scores, but in hopes that she could live a longer life.

- Although she really stresses in an intimidation fashion how pointless Emma’s efforts are now that Norman’s “dead,” the cliff remains a major hazard and her leg is still bandaged up, Isabella still tries so hard to convince her to give up, like Ray has, in order for Emma to end her own suffering. It was the first instance during my blind watch-through were I started to get the hint that Isabella might actually care about her kids, and of course I know now it’s because she didn’t want Emma to experience the same pain she did after Leslie’s death.

- With Emma and Ray both broken, things went by rather smoothly for Isabella those last two months, though she continued to keep a close eye on them.

- Her humming is so soothing. And why it took me this long to bring up “Isabella’s Lullaby” is beyond me, but oh my god, that song and any other soundtrack that uses its melody is absolute perfection.

- Had enough sense to not let her guard down the final night, even though her efforts were ultimately unsuccessful, but the idea counts.

- Though her caretaker side is focused on more during the fire, some motherly instincts do kick in as she instructs Gilda to get the babies from her room and lead everyone outside to safety. She was also concerned for Emma’s well being, hoping all the smoke didn’t get to her when the girl vanished. (i know you can argue “she’s only worried because they’re merchandise” which is fair but c’mon, i swear she’s not completely heartless)

- Took a hot minute (ahha) but Isabella eventually realized that the kids were actually escaping solely based on what they were wearing on their feet. I’m sure Emma’s discarded left ear was a big tip off too but to come to that conclusion by noticing the shoes they had on during all that chaos is surprising.

- She looks completely insane here but I always thought this shot of her was nicely animated with all the fire (or embers? sparks? whatever they are) flying around. The laugh she does before this is also a nice bonus. Oh, and she somehow managed to secure a radio from the room Don had locked.

- Figured the fifteen kids would head towards the bridge and called in headquarters to block it off.

- But when the children didn’t appear at the bridge, she just happened to know exactly where else they might try to cross the cliff.

- In the anime’s case, Isabella climbed the wall and ran there quick enough to engage in a stare down with Emma before she finally slid down.

- The moment I knew I was doomed.

- After the 15 kids successfully escaped, Isabella admits defeat, for she couldn’t really see how much her children have grown to outsmart her.

- This iconic quote, which conveys so much truth and sincerity. There were multiple occasions where she had to distance and restrain herself due to the system that controlled her, but the love she was able to show the children was genuine. If she wasn’t held back by the strict rules enforced by Mom position, I don’t doubt she would’ve treated Ray better or became far more emotional whenever a child had to leave for good or seriously injured, instead of donning a fake smile and being closed off.

- She realizes with this unspeakable loss in merchandise, the reputation she worked so hard to build up is meaningless now and that the farm no longer has any use for such an incompetent caretaker. She figures she’s as good as dead anyway now, so she wastes no time in actually helping the escapees by reclaiming the ropes to hide their exact method and route of escape, if only to grant the kids some extra time before the pursuers really locate them.

- She doesn’t act bitter as a result of her loss, instead choosing to wish the escapees luck with the future they grasped for themselves and care for the children that were left behind.

- She’s just so pretty y’all. Thank you anime.

- She was named “Best Antagonist” (and rightfully so!) back during the 2020 Crunchyroll Anime Awards, winning over Askeladd (Vinland Saga), Overhaul, (My Hero Academia), Garoua (One Punch Man,) & others.

(Post-season 1 spoilers ahead, even though the anime is completely finished at this point, but will be touching upon her special chapter more as well.)

- Completely owns up to her mistakes that caused the farm a massive loss in profitable goods and is ready to received whatever punishment necessary, which she expects to be death.

- Only.. she’s not being killed, she’s actually being promoted to Grandma. Though Isabella was directly responsible for the children’s escape, the blame ultimately falls on Sarah who couldn’t correctly control Isabella, thus leading the old lady to be shipped out in place of the goods Isabella lost.

- Peter also notes that the farm found more worth in Isabella than Sarah, so her past merits also played a part in sparing her life, as having a woman like Isabella in charge would surely produce the level of quality the farm needs.

- Isabella eventually accepts the promotion, though she can’t help but feel hesitant and shocked about the whole deal. This woman was ready to embrace death and finally be free from this cruel world, but now she has to witness not only more kids being shipped off, but moms and sisters in training as well (yay old chapter reviews coming in clutch).

- She could have very well just refused Peter’s offer, but we all know how much Isabella originally wanted to survive, so she doesn’t just accept because this man dangled a sense of freedom in her face, she also agreed so she could have the opportunity to help her children in any way her newfound power would allow her.

- Of course, her transition to Grandma happens a bit differently in the second season, but I will give some bittersweet thanks to the anime once more for the obvious but curse them for also having this entire scene dark as hell. Let me see her beauty darn it! I can only fix the lighting so much until it looks overexposed and bad again.

Anyways, Sarah is still alive at this point and taunts Isabella with the escapee’s lives just to see how she would react, which gave her a small sense of hope. Then some demons pay a visit later on and also ask if she would want to see the children one last time, but Isabella tells them that not only would she be too ashamed to face them but that they would manage to survive Grandma’s capture plan, which involved several men blowing up their shelter. It’s now clear to the demons that these children are special, and while Isabella agrees, it’s not for the same reason the demons think so. The demons believe the kids are special because of how they were raised to such a high quality. Isabella calls them special simply because they’re her children, just as any mother would.

- In the anime, it’s the demons who offer Isabella the Grandma deal if Sarah’s current plan were to fail (which it does) and she takes it and the freedom from Grace Field House without question. Do I still believe she had similar intentions to help out the children like she did in manga at this point? Of course.

- Not even a full month into her new job did she start preparing to help Emma & the others by considering who from the current Sisters she wanted to recruit to personally assist her destroy the farm entirely.

- A month later and Isabella had already decreased the number of shipments that took place at Grace Field, which obviously helps raise the quality of the children by default, but it also means less death and gives those kids a chance to live longer.

- She completely anticipated that Matilda, Jessica, Sienna & Scarlet were conspiring against her and caught them quite easily, as they were among the top scorers.

- Each had a fair chance at becoming Moms but with those positions limited, it was obvious to figure out they were trying to force Isabella’s seat open by creating some suspicious activity to place on her almost perfect record. Unfortunately for the girls, our new Grandma is too smart for her own good and I love it.

- The four women are apprehensive to join her insane plan to go against the farm, but Isabella assures them there’s no freedom if they follow the system’s rules and betray her. The harsh reality they’re all living in will continue unless they stop competing with one another and combine forces to defeat the true enemy.

- To persuade them further, Isabella mentions the children they all gave birth to are still alive, bringing out an array of emotions from the women that they each thought they had buried deep down.

- THIS! Just all of this is wonderful and shows just how much Isabella learned from her children who once defeated her.

- To fully gain the women’s trust, she gives them Ray’s farewell note that he originally left in order to bait Krone, as proof she won’t double-cross them at any point.

- I love the fact that she kept the note close to her because it acts just like all the other various toys and items she saved in her secret room back at plant 3. The original owners were all precious to her so she kept a piece of them behind to remember them in a place only she knew about. As I said before when mentioning her “I wish I could have just loved them normally” quote, all the love she had for her children had to be suppressed when she was under the system’s control, but that doesn’t mean she never cared. Because she did, and if I haven’t made at least that clear by now then I’m failing.

- Can her intentions and love for her children be any more clear? (possibly, i’m not done with this darn post yet. how you guys holding up? i’m going a little insane at this point.)

- Anyways! Second season didn’t make the rest of the story easy so apologies for any timeline mishaps as I switch between both anime and manga events from here on out.. like how in manga Isabella is informed of the escapee’s return to Grace Field via Peter, while the in the anime it’s her who helps lures them back with a fake transmission via the radio they stole.

- Just before Emma & the others do return to Grace Field on November 13, Isabella finally reaches out to the farm’s many other Sisters to recruit them. She waited until the right moment to inform them of her crazy takeover plan so Peter wouldn’t become suspicious from all of headquarters acting/thinking differently (you know, like how Emma kept the jailbreak plan under wraps until the night of). These ladies also feel a bit wary and even think of Isabella’s offer as a joke, but with some real, heartfelt encouragement, she manages to win over every single woman to her side.

- The moment when it was first revealed to us that she was not only still alive but was also promoted to Grandma is still so powerful.

- She snaps Nat’s finger back into place after Peter broke it. (and considering emma’s group infiltrates the farm right after this, i’m pretty sure that ch170 with rallying the sisters took place before this..i think?)

- Gave me a minor heart attack.

- *CLAPS FRANTICALLY!!!* The moment she truly won me over. 

- While her betrayal against Peter in the manga is fantastic and quite possibly one of my favorite moments, the anime did give us a little something too. It shows Peter spewing utter nonsense to Emma about how she’s destined to fail, only for best girl to bite back with such a fantastic quote, and then Isabella drops the act and switches sides. While I agree Emma’s comeback is “wonderful,” it’s the English dub that completely wins me over in this scene by having Isabella comment “Now that’s my girl” instead, like bro.. hearing that makes me so happy.

- For real dude, you have several highly skilled women pointing guns at you, I think her betrayal is crystal clear.

- This is like the perfect example of how she had to conceal her feelings while bound by the system. She just misses these kids so much y’all but she can’t let her true emotions show yet.

- Having her call Peter a boy is beyond hilarious to me. Also, how she disagrees with him on so many levels is excellent, like how he believes in experimenting on kids and having the right to call yourself their parent just because you created them, while Isabella believes in raising and loving children normally and that you earn that parent title by actually being part of their lives. To be fair they both inflicted pain on kids (Nat’s finger/Emma’s leg) but Peter’s action was a mistake in itself. Isabella got frustrated back when Krone even threatened to ship out the kids who discovered the secret, so you can bet she’s probably pissed off at this boy for harming one of her kids on purpose.

- The best mother-daughter moment ever! It’s such a shame it never got truly animated since the second season decided not to give the children guns, but we get to see a small smile from Isabella after Emma decided to still call her “mom.”

- The anime never gave Peter the chance to run away, like he (somehow) managed to do in manga, so we had the chance to see someone actually shoot at him. Well, in his general direction at least. Isabella lands a perfect shot not even a full second after he pulls out that disc. Accuracy on point.

- Said this once or twice in the past in manga so I’m glad the anime brought it back.

- Remains cautious and keeps her gun raised at Peter when Emma approaches him and rightfully so considering he still had his knife hidden at this point.

- Refuses Emma’s offer to join the kids in the human world at first because she knows that her (& the sister’s) actions shouldn’t be forgiven so easily, but with some rather blunt sympathy from Ray and encouragement from her other children, she finally gives in.

- This entire post summed up in one image.

- She apologizes even though distancing herself from her kids and preparing them for death were just required of her role as a caretaker. She wouldn’t have done any of that in a normal world. (do i sound like a broken record yet? probably)

- The emotion you hear in her voice during this entire dub scene hits my heart in all the right places.

- She still thinks of Leslie after all this time and I think that’s real cute.

- Her protective nature is on full display when she protects Emma from this bastard of a demon. A truly surprising and heartbreaking moment, considering this is the woman who’s survival used to be her top and only priority in the past, but now doesn’t hesitate to give her life in order to save her kid (and by extension that small girl emma saved. also, major heart attack for me).

- Despite being critically injured, this woman still possess enough strength to hold back a demon twice her size. She doesn’t even pay any mind to its nonsense. Like the demon, people often think this is when redemption arc starts but I believe it started way back in ch37 when Isabella retrieved and hid the ropes the kids used to escape. Ever since she admitted defeat on the wall that night, she threw caution to the wind and began cheating the system in hopes to one day assist the kids achieve a brighter future. Despite all the work she’s done behind the scenes, Isabella believes there’s still so much more she can do to atone, so even though she’s already received the children’s forgiveness, she continues to assist them by jumping in and saving them directly from demons for once in her life.

- Ma’am it’s sweet you’re so concerned with their safety, but we should be asking you that question ya know? (but then again emma was the same way after she woke up from her coma).

- Knows that just apologizing and saving Emma isn’t enough to suddenly forgive all her actions and wants to do so much more for the children as a result. Even though I already acknowledged all her subtle and hidden moments, I wish we got to see her care for them more openly.

- I simply can not read through ch177 and not get emotional. No matter how hard I try, I always feel tears start to form in my eyes. Oh my god, how cruel that death can be this beautiful. It’s so unfair.

- *uses old chapter review because I’m too upset right now* “She apologizes for everything. For not treating him right and loving him as a mother normally would her own son. For making him despise his life so much and enduring so much pain that he thought the only escape was suicide.”

- “She leaves him with one last wish to protect everyone, and that completely breaks me because you know exactly how much they both care for their family. Not only would they literally die for their family, but they would live for them too if someone asked. Truly like mother, like son.” (aaaaaahhhhh)

- Her, umm.. ghost (along with Conny’s & Yuugo’s) help Ray reunite with Emma in 2049.

- All my tears aside, the anime did something right by actually keeping her ALIVE!

- Have you ever seen something so GODDAMN BEAUTIFUL in all your life?? This image is so powerful it literally tossed aside any salty feelings I had that night with how the second season ended. Seeing her like this grants me so much happiness y’all, it’s truly unbelievable. I still can’t get over it and hopefully I never will.

Okay, now I’m done, thank god. Sorry this is like ridiculously long, especially since she’s absent for sooo many chapters. Also find it so hilarious how drastic my opinion of her changed from the beginning to now, from “bitch” to “oh my god I love her so much.” I know people will always have opposing opinions whether she’s actually a good mother or not and that’s totally fine. Wasn’t trying to convince y’all of that either because yes, some of her actions are real unforgivable, but she was suffering under the farm system too and just followed through with what she was trained to do in order to survive, but while other Sisters fought to climb ranks and help themselves survive, Isabella ultimately wanted the best for her children. The more power she gained, the more risks she took and once the system crashed so did her facade.

An absolute queen.

#the promised neverland #mother isabella #tpn isabella #tpn manga #tpn anime #chidoroki used chatter

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cursedwriter · 4 years ago

Text

Cursed! - Gojo Satoru

Jujutsu Kaisen Masterlist

Synopsis: After running some errands you’re caught off guard by a curse user. Unbeknownst to you, he has something up his sleeve that would mean a fate worse than death to you. How will you get out of this? And what role does your boyfriend - the Satoru Gojo - play in all of this?

Words: 2.6k

Author’s Note: Feeback is - as always - highly appreciated! I’d love to hear your thoughts! Requests are still open, btw!

“Hey, there. Are you okay?” You hesitantly approached a man who had just stumbled upon a protruding cobble stone on the sidewalk. The street lamps were just lighting up, signaling for another day to approach its end. The air felt chillier on your skin and you briefly wished you had taken a scarf with you, or at least put on a warmer jacket.

“I’m fine. No worries,” the man grunted and waved you off, but you didn’t stop, opting to check on him nonetheless.

“Are you sure?” Your feet stopped just a few inches away from him, hand already outstretched to help him get up and off the ground. Hesitantly, he reached out for it. His movements slow, but not in a timid kind of way. It was more like he was anticipating something to jump at him at any given moment if he touched you. As if he was scared you could poison him with a single touch.

Suddenly an uneasy feeling swept through your body. A shiver ran down your spine and the hair in your neck stood up. A familiar sensation overwhelming your senses. Blood running cold in your veins, freezing still, numbing your nerves. The chill of the night was suddenly no longer noticeable on your skin. Instead, the breeze felt almost warm now. This was the presence of a curse. An acidic taste spread through your mouth, making you swallow hard as you subtly roamed your eyes around the neighborhood, trying to find out where the curse could be hiding.

To your surprise, nothing seemed too out of the ordinary. The only thing that was ticking you off was that there were no longer any people in sight. It was just you and the man in front of you now. Everyone else had suddenly vanished. Cursed energy was flowing through the air, probably causing everyone else to feel uneasy too, hence why they left in a hurry. People relied on instinct much like animals did. So even though they might not know why, they could definitely tell when something bad was about to happen. Much like how animals could sense when a storm was approaching. Therefore, this really wasn’t all that surprising. What surprised you was that everyone else had been quicker than you to notice the alien presence in your midst. It was almost like someone had been concealing it from you specifically. That was what was worrisome. And then it hit you… the lack of a curse running around, you alone in an empty neighborhood with only one other man right in front of you and the fact that you had only been able to even sense the cursed energy floating around the moment you had reached out for him… This was a trap. A trap specifically designed for you.

Everything inside of you was screaming for you to run away. Just run. Run. RUN!

But you couldn’t move.

You couldn’t even retract your hand that was still outstretched to help the stranger get to his feet. You looked down at him. The shock in your eyes as the realization hit you must’ve been obvious, because as soon as he noticed the fear glimmer in your eyes, a menacing smile spread across his face. It almost looked like he was bearing his teeth at you.

Without breaking eye contact, he got up from the pavement, ignoring your hand and dusting his pants off.

“Ugh, the look on your face,” he laughed. “It’s truly hilarious, I wish you could see it.” His eyes lit up and he held his index finger in the air as if he just remembered something groundbreaking. “Wait, hold on. A right,” he laughed again, “as if you have another choice.” He stalked around you, reaching for your back pocket, hand lingering on your ass longer than was necessary in order for him to get your phone. Bile was rising up in your throat as you send a million death threats his way. You wanted to scream at him to tell you what he wanted, but even your tongue remained unmoving, pressed to the roof of your mouth. It felt like you had transformed into a stone statue.

It was obvious that the man in front of you wasn’t a cursed spirit. So he either had to be a curse user or, like Yuji, swallowed a cursed object and absorbed its power. Whatever he was, whatever he wanted, though, by the way he looked at you, it wasn’t anything good.

“Okay, now say cheese.” He held your phone in front of your face. It was close enough for you to reach out and swat it out of his hands, but much to your dismay, your body just wouldn’t listen to your commands. Everything you could do was stand there helplessly and watch as he did whatever he pleased. “Ah, right. Almost forgot, you can’t talk,” he shrugged unimpressed. “Well, no matter. This’ll do just fine.” The clicking sound of your phone camera rang through your ears. The sound completely out of place compared to the eerie silence that surrounded you.

The man turned your phone around to show you the picture he’d just taken. At first glance, you almost didn’t recognize yourself. Your eyes were blown wide in horror, mouth slightly opened in a silent scream.

“So, what do you think’ll happen if I forward that little picture of you and send it… let’s say, to your boyfriend?” He raised one eyebrow in amusement, gauging your reaction, obviously toying with you. “What do you think he’d do if I’d do that?” This guy evidently knew who you were and he also knew who your boyfriend was… Then why did he sound so delighted at the prospect of Gojo – the Satoru Gojo – coming here and probably tearing his limbs off? It seemed to you that he was almost counting on it. That he, in fact, looked forward to it.

Okay, so this guy wasn’t actually trapping you. You were just the bait and Gojo seemed to be his real target. Which got you thinking… Was he just another egomaniac thinking he could take on Gojo and defeat him and in return make a name for himself? Did he have a death wish? Or could he be that one in a million to have an actual chance at defeating him?

“It’s really not any fun when the conversation is this one sided,” he complained, scratching the back of his neck in thought. “Okay, because I’m in such a good mood today, I’ll let you talk. But no funny business, alright?” He held a daunting finger up in the air as if he was an adult scolding a child for misbehaving.

Suddenly your tongue felt loose again and you could move your mouth, though, the bitter taste remained. It felt like someone had poured acid down your throat, leaving your tongue to feel like sandpaper in your mouth. Except for that, everything remained the same. Not a single muscle in your body would follow your commands of making a run for it or, at the very least, get a good punch in.

“What the hell are you doing to me?” You croaked out, voice hoarse and cracking at the end. “What do you want with Gojo?”

“Uh uh.” He shook his head in displeasure, though, the sick grin on his face remained. “One thing at a time, love. Don’t get ahead of yourself or I might revoke your talking rights.” The way he referred to you as ‘love’ made you physically sick. And the way he talked so happily, as if you were old friends catching up on lost time, made you want to punch him all the more. What was his goal? What could he possibly want?

“Just spit it out!” Your patience was wearing very thin at this point. And though, it might be reckless to talk to this visibly crazy man in such a manner, you didn’t really care. You always had a problem with your temper.

“My, you’re a feisty one, aren’t you?” The man cooed in delight. He was still holding your phone tightly in his hand, looking through God knew what. Ugh, now you really wished you had put a password on it, but before now you never really had a reason to. You weren’t hiding anything in it, but still, it felt like he was roaming through your head while you had no idea what he was searching for.

“Aren’t you two just adorable?” He dangled your phone in front of your face again, fake sweetness dripping off his words like poison disguised as honey. On your screen was a picture of you and Gojo where he was kissing your cheek. Your face was flushed, totally embarrassed when Gojo made Fushiguro take the picture a couple days back. But still, there was this love drunken smile on your face, eyes glistening in a way that radiated pure joy. You remembered how happy you were that day. Actually, you were always happy when you were around Satoru. “You’re so cute together, it makes me sick!” He stood up straight again, nose wrinkling in disgust as he scrolled through your phone some more. “You know, you’re a hard woman to get alone. You’re always with him… Frankly, it was quite frustrating to watch you two be all lovey dovey. But here we are at last, right? So I guess, it was worth it in the end.” A throaty laugh escaped his throat, causing every hair on your body to stand up. So this guy has been watching you? Following you around for God knew how long? A shiver ran down your spine at the thought of all your intimate moments being tainted by some weirdo watching you from afar.

“So, what is it that you want from us?”

“Right,” he clicked his tongue, shoving your phone in his back pocket and out of sight. A small sigh of relief left your lips. Finally, it didn’t feel like he was digging through your head anymore. “You see; I was in love once, too. We were as happy as you can imagine. Our future together was already within reach.” Suddenly the man reached forward to hold onto your shoulder. At first it seemed like he needed the additional support to keep himself upright, but as his fingertips dug deeper into your skin, you guessed this wasn’t all there was to it. He needed a vent to release some of the anger that was burning in his eyes… and you just so happened to be the closest thing nearby. “Everything was perfect. Suki was pregnant and we were planning to get married… Everything was perfect,” he repeated. There was a strain on his voice now as he talked about the woman that he loved. But you were still confused as to what that had to do with you. “Suki was a good person. The best, in fact. There wasn’t a single bad bone in her body and still… and still, someone cursed her. And not just any curse… No! They turned her into one! Into a monster! My Suki! MY SUKI!” Describing him as furious wouldn’t even come close to the burning hatred you saw searing in his eyes. The grip on your shoulder impossibly painful at this point.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” The sincerity in your voice caught him off guard. You could feel his grip loosening ever so slightly, but the flame in his eyes seemed to blaze more intensely than ever before.

“You don’t get to say sorry!” He spat in your face. “Because your precious excuse of a boyfriend was the one to kill her! HE KILLED HER WITHOUT BATTING AN EYE! WITHOUT EVEN TRYING TO FIX HER! HE KILLED HER! AND HE DID IT RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME! SO, YOU DON’T GET TO SAY YOU’RE SORRY!”

Suddenly everything clicked together. Everything started to make sense. This was a man with nothing to lose and he was out for retribution. If you weren’t scared before, you were definitely scared now. People with nowhere to go, people who didn’t fear death or didn’t care for it were the most unpredictable ones. He probably already knew that there was no way for him to defeat Gojo… and that in turn meant that he must have something planned that would make him suffer the same way he had. Because what do you do if you can’t kill your opponent? Right… You make them wish they were dead. And you had the dreadful feeling that the role you’d be playing in all of this wasn’t merely to lure Gojo in.

You tried to gulp, but a lump was forming in your throat that made it hard to swallow or even breathe. You didn’t care about the things that could happen to you, but if you were to be the reason Gojo had to suffer, you would never be able to forgive yourself.

The wheels in your head started turning, eyes blown wide in horror. The man in front of you could visibly feel your distress. He wet his lips in anticipation. Almost like a famished animal waiting to finally feast on its prey.

“Please, I beg you… just let me go, okay? Please!” It was a pathetic attempt, you knew that. There was no way in hell he would let you go now, but you still had to try, at the very least. “This won’t bring her back, okay? Torturing me won’t bring your Suki back… So please, I beg you… just let me go.”

His head fell back in his neck as a bitter laugh ripped through the night. His whole body shook with the action. The sight caused your heart rate to speed up, hammering against your rip cage like the wings of a hummingbird. This was a mad man with nothing to lose and with nowhere to go.

“Torture you? No, no!” He shook his head, finally letting go off your shoulder as he clasped both his hands together in pure delight. “I have something way better planned for you… You see, my cursed technique is mind manipulation which you might have already noticed.” Ah, now it made sense why you couldn’t move and only talk once he allowed you to. “It’s a rather straining technique, but that won’t matter…” The smile on his face didn’t falter, if anything, it got even bigger. His eyes almost sparkling with perverse glee as he hungrily looked you up and down. His hand reached for his back pocket again, getting a hold of your phone. The screen illuminated his face, highlighting a single scar that traveled across his right cheek. “So, I’ll call your boyfriend now, okay? I think you two have a little catching up to do.” He winked at you. “But before that…” He lowered your phone slightly, intently looking you in the eyes and capturing all your attention. Even if you wanted to look away – and you did – you couldn’t will your body to do so. Never in your life have you felt so helpless. “Y/N, when you see Satoru Gojo’s face again, you’re overcome with the sudden and unbearable desire to kill him and you will stop at nothing until you accomplish your task… or you die trying.”

You stopped breathing, blood freezing in your veins as your brain absorbed these horrible words.

No. No! NO!

This was a fate worse than death! Not only did he make you fight his sick battle, he probably counted on Gojo having to kill you which would… break him. If you can’t kill your enemy… make them wish they were dead. And God did you wish he would’ve just killed you and left you for Gojo to find you. This would’ve been more merciful.

“Oh, he picked up.” Your eyes snapped up to see he was already holding your phone flat against his ear. “Gojo Satoru, I believe I have something of yours in my possession. Please be so kind and pick it up, okay? She really can’t wait to see you.”

***

Part Two

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