#walking corpse syndrome au
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#walking corpse syndrome au#kuroba kaito#kaitou kid#magic kaito#detco#detco fanart#dcmk fanart#fanart#digital art#digital illustration#dose of art#i think those are all the tags
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The Supreme Empress
Kylo Ren x Reader
Summary: The dark side chose you. They pried you out of the rebel camps and dragged you from the ashes and the corpses of your family. The dark side chose you to strengthen the force, to be the vessel for their plans, to be the bride of the Supreme Leader's pupil, to bear Kylo Ren's seed and ensure the might of their divine wrath.
Word Count: 11k+ 🧍♀️💀
Warnings: fem!Reader, slow burn, forced marriage AU, themes of stockholm syndrome/gaslighting/brain washing, mentions/depictions of violence, enemies to lovers?, smut (scratching, marking, ?manipulating?, fingering, vaginal penetration, cock warming), fluff, angst, typos, etc.
A/N: this fucking ai chat man. fuck that shit MINORS DNI honestly. its my fault for making a plot. i just wanted to write smut fml. i hate it here. i couldn't even finish it cos now i cant write the smut dafaq? anyway im sure i got typos so you must forgive me. i have not gone through this yet and i need to brush my teeth and pull myself together bye Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx
I fell to my knees. I was in tears, in dust, in blood, and in pain. My wrists were bound behind me and my clothes were tattered and torn.
This was it. This was the day I die. I felt it in my bones. This was the reckoning.
And then my deliverer, my executioner, came before me. And then I felt the Force in him echo in the room and ripple through me like a blade through my chest.
It was him. The phantom that haunted me every time I closed my eyes. He was the nightmare in my sleep, and the damning voice in my head in the morning. The dark warrior, death given form, the murmuring voice of the shadows.
The Sith Lord.
Here he is, crossing this bridge from the entrance of this cursed compound.
The place is busy, busy with its plans of destruction. I heave at the grandness of it all. It was terrifying to see it up close, especially since I was evidently at the top, and it was a very long drop down.
I crane my neck up at him, face stained with tears. I was exhausted but I put on my last show. I bared my last look of defiance before he kills me, before he finally completes this cycle of torment he has been inflicting onto me.
I close my eyes and await his judgement.
I feel him come before me, but he instead walks past, and I hear someone choke from behind.
"Did I not instruct that she be left unharmed?" his voice barks through his dark mask.
My heart pounds as I hear straining from behind me. I steal a look from over my shoulder and instantly regret it when I see the two stormtroopers that dragged me here get thrown down the side of the bridge. I shudder. Like I said, it's a long drop down.
I look straight when he returns to me. I feel him undo my shackles with his Force, and then... he clutches my arm to help me stand.
I look up at him. I see my reflection on his helmet. I clench my jaw, "what do you want from me?"
"My empress-"
My stomach rolls.
"-I have finally retrieved you from your sullied camp to bring you to your rightful place next to me. To claim you as my own."
A shiver runs down my spine.
No, this can't be real.
My breathing strains. I grip my hands and I begin to step back.
It electrocutes me, this searing cold voice in my brain. It was a suddenly as if I remembered the dialogue in the horrors of my slumber that I so hardly tried to suppress. It was replaying now, the voice of the malevolent, the voice of the creature ruling my nightmares. "I give you to my pupil. With your Force converged with his, the purest of warriors will be borne. And my power will know no bounds."
"You remember now, bride," my captor iterated, "that voice in your head right now-- that is the Supreme Leader; that is Snoke."
I step back, "bride?" my breath hitches.
I was his b--
My knees almost give in, but again, his hold on my arm keeps me upright.
I feel my eyes begin to water.
Please, please, let this be another horrible, horrible nightmare.
"Is everything prepared?"
"Yes, my lord," two voices call out from behind me.
"Good," he says, and I released, "I will watch as you prepare her. I will not allow her be injured further."
I was--
I was here to be sacrificed to the darkness.
I was here to answer to the calls that have been plaguing me for so long, ever since that day my home planet was invaded, ever since everything I knew was reduced to atoms.
I let out a loud yelp when I am splashed with cold water. I let out a breathy curse and the servant who had done it, who had profusely apologized, is suddenly being choked.
It is only now I am cognizant again. It was now that I was aware I am in the bathroom, stripped naked in a tub, and my captor has his servant in a chokehold from across the room. I gasp and cover my bare chest, looking over my shoulder as he hisses, "you could not have made the water warmer? How would you like to be dunked in a pool of ice water?"
My breath hitches, "let her go!"
His voice buzzes behind his helmet as he curls his hand further with his outstretched arm, "she has one task, one simple task, and if she cannot perform it, then she is no use to me."
I panic as I see the servant's eyes water. I jolt when the other servant grabs my shoulder and begins to wash my skin as though nothing was awry. I turn from the servant back to him, "LET HER GO!"
He does nothing.
"LET. HER. GO!"
He seems to be debating my words.
I panic and quip breathlessly, "let her go!"
I sigh in relief when the servant is dropped.
A shiver runs down my spine when he goes at ease by the door. He clutches his hands before him and announces, "thank your empress for her mercy."
Immediately, before she can even catch her breath, the servant responds, "th-ank you, empress." The woman quickly begins to attend to me again.
I am far beyond perturbed.
I don't know what to do with myself, not when I was being bathed by strangers, not when I naked in the tub, not when he was there, watching me.
Why the fuck did that sicko have to watch like a bird in a fucking cage?
Careful, bride.
I stiffen in my place. The servants working on my body halt their work and ask me if their touch was too rough.
Lest you forget I have also been in your dreams. You ought to honor me even in your thoughts, baby bird.
"... my empress?" one servant calls.
"She is fine," he answers for me, "you may proceed."
And then, I'm being dragged out of the tub and patted down in front of a huge mirror. I don't know what to cover, and I can feel him looking. Never mind my naked form in and of itself, but my cuts and bruises from ripping and screaming at the stormtroopers that pried me into their ship. It was loathsome sight to see.
"Must you watch me?" I ask accusingly yet under my breath.
"Yes," he replies, as if it makes anything better, as if it was actually a question, as if he didn't know what I meant with my words. And then he clarifies, as if it helped, "your physical state does not bother me. It does not make you any less than you are, my bride."
My eyes twitch as I am finally handed undergarments to wear. I find my voice again, finally, "that's not the-"
"My pretty bride."
I cease my movements. What the fuck is he saying?
I don't have time to ponder those words as the servants urge me to dress and then quickly begin to fasten me with bandages, namely on my thigh where I had a cut and on my bicep that had a burn.
And though I so badly wanted to whine in protest and dramatic spite, I do my best to contain them. After all, the servants were helping me, they don't need to be Force choked for doing a job they were tasked to accomplish by their malignant master.
The next moment, I was being put into an elaborate garment and then they started painting on my face. Suddenly, I was.... turning into something else. I looked at the mirror and everything was so very real and unimaginable all at once. This was all happening to me. This wasn't a nightmare, not a fever dream, and there was no escape.
And then they told him- my groom- that I was done and I stared at my reflection, unable to recognize myself.
Who in the world were you?
"Come," he says, raising his hand up to me, "we must not delay any further."
I look at his reflection from the mirror. I look at his hand, hid behind his glove, his body, hid behind his cloak, and his face, hid behind his mask. I was going to me wed to this stranger, hidden in darkness?
I stare at him. I clench my jaw. I tell him I'm not going but utter not a single word. I sear it in his brain with my eyes. I scream it, blare it out as loudly as I could.
And yet he only watches me. He watches me with an urging dark hand.
My heart pounds in my ribs. I expect him to begin to lash out at one point, to choke me next, but he doesn't. He stands there, just stands there, reaching out to me.
Was this his twisted way of making me feel like I was willingly going to him? His way of telling me he was the only route in my life now?
My nostrils flare and I gather my skirt. I stare at him as I walk past him. My body was rigid and I had no idea where I was going, but I walked. And then he opened the doors for me.
My hand twitched when he took it, as he was suddenly beside me. I gasp at the unexpected and uninvited touch and I turn to him in surprise, but it is arduous with this ridiculous headpiece on me. His hand is massive and burning hot against my freezing clammy one. He tugs me toward him, "it's this way."
So, we when go this way.
We tread the halls, and I swear I could feel people following after us, more and more each moment, but I couldn't look back, literally, the fucking headpiece was in the way.
And then the atmosphere started to get darker, and it was like it was suddenly so much harder to breathe. It was clear to me we were heading for that large door, and that whatever was behind there was not good. It was not good at all.
He waved his hands once and the doors opened.
There was a great and terrible rush of Force that knocked into me. It was so strong and terrifying, I tighten my grip on my captor, and I cling onto him for safety. My breath is knocked out of my lungs, and all at once I am facing this large entity, this massive body of darkness, the literal flesh form of all my worst nightmares.
I was reeling back in fear. My stomach was in my chest and my heart was in my mouth.
I was in front of him. The Supreme Leader. Snoke.
And he was looking at me, looking right at me with contempt, with impatience, with exasperation.
My feet were stuck on the floor and my fingers were digging into arm of the man by my side. I couldn't do anything but feel my eyes water.
I snap to look my side when my name is called out. I turn to my groom as suddenly he is pacifying me, comforting me even, "the sooner we get this done, the sooner we can leave."
I don't know how I feel about his words, I don't know how I feel about how he takes my chin in his fingers and makes me turn my body to him. I don't know how I feel when he steadies my stupid headpiece when it knocks onto his shoulder. I don't know how I feel when I follow him mindlessly, when he and I head towards his gargantuan master.
Snoke speaks the moment we are in front of him. His voice rings, it reverberates, in the hall, in my ears, in my thorax, and in the dark corner of my mind that shudders at the recognition, "you have done well, my pupil. Very well."
My eyes lock with Snoke. I evade his stare and abruptly pull away from the man on my right. He stares at me for a moment when I do so, then looks back at Snoke, "thank you, master."
Snoke grumbles, "well, remove that ridiculous thing on your head and let us begin."
I don't know whether it is because I am fearful of the evil-king before me or because I am anticipative of the face of the man behind the mask, but I turn to him with a desperation. I turn to him when he removes his helmet and my breath catches in my throat.
He tucks his helmet under his arm and looks at me with his brown eyes that glistened with something sinister behind them. He parted his lips and I noticed the scar by its side that started by his brow went far past his cheek and collar. His hair was somehow perfectly tousled even after staying inside his face cage for so long. I don't know how I felt after seeing him face to face like this.
I suck in a sharp breath when he takes my hand. He promptly begins to speak.
"I-" he turns to our joined hands as he lifts them chest level, "Kylo Ren," his eyes dart back to me, "take you-"
My skin pricks at how he whispers my name. He says it as if it were a secret, as if he meant it with reverence, as if it was solemn.
"-to be my wife."
My empress.
I suck in a sharp breath at his voice in my head. My breath picks up. My stomach rolls. Get out.
Kylo Ren rubs my knuckles, "To protect you, to honor you, to venerate you until my last breath, or even beyond."
And then he looks at me. He stares at me. He bores into my being and plunges into my soul. I feel my hands begin to shake in his hold.
Kylo Ren looks in silence and I look in fear.
I start at the harsh call of the Supreme Leader to our side, "SPEAK YOUR VOWS, GIRL!"
I screw my eyes shut and gulp. I have to get out of here. Get me out of here! My breath strains now more than ever.
Suddenly, I hear a soft voice in my head. Suddenly, I dare to open my eyes and I see a disconcerting softness in my groom's expression.
Shhhhhhh.
He hushes me in my mind. He repeats his words from earlier.
The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can leave.
I open my mouth and huff helplessly. I repeat my groom's words and tears begin to fall from my eyes.
Snoke leans back in his throne and tents his hands together, "good, good. Then by the power of the darkness, the power vested in me, The Supreme Leader, the ruler of the galaxies and all peoples," he nods his head, "two have now become one."
My shoulders rise and my heart pounds at the explosion of loud exclamations. I look around the hall and only now realize that there were hundreds of individuals, looking down at us from the balconies above.
"Long live the Emperor and Empress!"
I am at a loss for what to do next. I don't know if I want to run away or drop dead. I find myself looking to Kylo Ren. Kylo Ren, whose brows slightly furrow in his seriousness. Kylo Ren who looks up to his people and raises his hand that is clutching his helm, inspiring them to cheer even more. Kylo Ren, who then looks down at me and firmly grips my hands before leading me out of the room.
I don't know what happens after that.
I think I'm having a panic attack.
Am I having a panic attack?
Can someone even think if they're having a panic attack?
I'm not having a panic attack.
I'm not having a panic attack.
"Enough," he speaks, turning to me, clutching my cheek. Kylo Ren looks at me with knit brows while his gloved hands make me face him. My neck strains because of the weight of my headpiece. He blinks at me and slips the thing off my head. A weight is lifted off my shoulders. Very suddenly, I think I'd have preferred if he removed my head altogether. He uses his Force to bring the object away. I watch as it floats off to a dresser, beside his helmet that was already there.
All at once, I realize I was in a bedroom. I look back at Kylo in horror. Oh, fuck, I was in a bedroom.
He huffs through his nostrils, "your thoughts are as loud as sirens."
I clutch my skirt tightly and slowly begin to move back.
Kylo watches me. He tilts his head down slightly and narrows his eyes.
I swallow the lump in my throat, "so what?" I shudder, "you're going to force an heir in me now?"
He raises his nose and tilts his head to the side, "it is my duty to sire an heir."
I gulp. My breathing begins to get shorter and shorter.
I start when he steps forward. I put more distance between us.
I shiver when he calls out my name.
"Don't," I point, "don't come any closer."
Kylo Ren offers me the courtesy of stopping in his place.
I catch my breath and watch him as he brings his hands behind him. Goosebumps form on my skin when he speaks, "I have just vowed to protect you, to honor you, and to venerate you." He brings his hands to the clasp of his cloak, "I will not force you to do anything with me that you don't want."
I scoff, tightening my grip on my clothes, "and you think I wanted to marry you?!"
I tense when Kylo unfastens his cloak and folds it in front of him. I freeze in my spot in anticipation of what he's going to do next. He looks at his cloak then looks at me, "you do not understand it now, but you are the key to securing the strength the Sith, securing the Order."
A shiver runs down my spine. How can he say that so plainly?
I cannot comprehend how utterly indoctrinated this ideation is in his being. It is shocking honestly, to see up close and personal that he believes so much in his cause, that he genuinely does not see fault in this, in forcing me to marry him, in taking me by force, in destroying my camp, in laying waste to my people, on wreaking their ill-judgement to the stars.
I shake my head, "do you honestly believe I will eventually come to you with- with open arms?!"
Kylo Ren straightens his posture. I nearly trip when he walks over to me as I attempt to rush back. He raises two fingers and keeps me upright with his Force. He keeps me in place and stands before me. He leans his face close to mine, then barely opens his mouth to speak, "I do."
And then, he releases me and walks away.
I watch him as he exits the room and leaves me. The sound of the door closing is all that's left.
I begin to pant. I begin to heave in anger, in loss, in panic, in desperation. I have to get o-
I slap my hands on my mouth. I screw my eyes shut and shudder.
Silent. I have to be silent.
The next day he asked me to accompany him while he ate.
Breakfast, lunch, and dinner, he said, I should join him, so that we would both grow accustomed to each other's company during such intimate moments, and that we would also get to know each other more.
I scoffed at the idea, so much for not forcing me to do anything I don't want.
"I am not forcing you, wife," Kylo calls across the expanse of the long table.
My eyes that were idly watching my fork swirl the unknown delicacy on my plate dart to him. My shoulders tense as Kylo Ren grabs his glass and drinks from it.
I huff, "do you mind getting out of my head?" I ask though it wasn't really a question, it was a threat, as much of a threat a captive could give.
Kylo sets the object down and taps his finger on it, "if you don't want to join me..." he thinks for a moment, "you don't have to."
I straighten in my seat. I silently look out to him in challenge.
I stiffen when the pitcher begins to float and water is then poured in my cup. I clench my jaw, turning back to Kylo, finding his raised finger.
"I would prefer if you dined with me though," he says, putting the pitched back down.
I turn to my food, idly pushing it around again, "I would prefer if I dined by myself... in my-" our "-room."
I hear him exhale. I hear the contact of his cutlery on his plate, "a disappointing conclusion."
I slowly avert my eyes from my food to him. He is now focused on his own plate. He mumbles, "but I will allow it."
The next day, I am woken to eat breakfast and urged to get out of bed. I explain to servant I was allowed to eat in my room and that I don't want to eat yet. I scoff in disbelief when I am told I am meant to tour the place with the master, with that damned Kylo Ren, and is thus advised to get ready.
And so I did. I got ready and went into the dining room and interrupted his breakfast. If I can't have peace, neither can he.
Kylo turns to me and nods, "wife."
I clench my teeth, "tour me now," I huff, "I'm not hungry, so tour me now."
He turns back to his food and seemingly debates my words for a moment. He then stands from his seat and puts on his helmet, leading me out of the room. If I could burn holes onto his back with my eyes, he'd have been nothing but charcoal.
I suppose I should have given more attention to his tour than I did because knowing the place would surely benefit me when I make my attempt to esc-
"Are you certain you're not hungry?" Kylo Ren asks out of the blue as he leads me down the weapons room, "you're quite snippy and demanding. I would assume that's because you're hungry, baby bird."
I can't help but scoff at his mockery, "or, this is just how I am," I mumble, "so don't act like you know me." I aimlessly look at all the weapons on display, weapons meant to destroy others like me.
But I do know you.
I avert my gaze to him. I stiffen as I glare.
"I have been in your mind and seen the depths of your soul," he mutters, "and I know you're irritable because you're hungry."
And then he conjures up a tin-wrapped object in front of me.
"Here," he gives me the item using his Force, "you can eat this while we walk back to our chambers."
My lips curl in disgust, "is this meant to be enticing?"
He tilts his helmet clad head, "it's meant to be my lunch for later," he grabs the floating object, then my wrist, placing the silver thing on my palm.
I tense in his touch and I am glad he doesn't linger long there. I look at his would-have-been lunch then turn back to him, seeing my scowling reflection on his dumb helmet, "what an honor to know I won't be poisoned since this is apparently yours."
"It is mine," he rebuts rather impatiently.
I roll my eyes and shove it into his chest, "if you want me to be less irritable, let me go back to my chambers." I catch myself when I say this. It sounds like I want to be in that damned cage, instead of outside of this compound. I correct myself, "or better yet, let me go."
Kylo Ren places his lunch in pocket that I didn't know he had, "We will continue this tour tomorrow."
And so we did. This time, he made sure to have someone come to me after I ate.
I must say, perhaps he was partially correct in the fact I was irritable because I was hungry. I did find him more bearable today, as far as forced husbands and captors go. But then again perhaps it was because he was touring me in the biggest library I have ever seen.
I couldn't even feign disinterest as he motioned to each area of the place and explained they were arranged by planet of origin.
I was far too busy craning my neck up to see how high the bookshelves reached that I bump into one. Or at least I thought it was a bookshelf and not fucking Kylo Ren. I jolt when I look at him, firstly because we had a collision, secondly because he magically didn't have his helmet on anymore.
I reel back as he looks down at me, on I think a more figurative sense if anything.
I am immediately uncomfortable under his gaze. I mutter, "sorry."
"You have questions," he mutters. He turns to me and lifts his chin, "ask them."
I evade his stare. Don't tell me what to do.
"I'm not telling you what to do," Kylo Ren retorts after hearing my thought.
I turn back to him. I snort and grumble, "stay out of my head."
He looks up at the shelves and then looks down at me with his eyes, "a hundred layers."
I pull my head back and scoff in disbelief, "the shelves have a hundred layers?" I look over my shoulder haphazardly, "seems unnecessary hard to manage."
"Well," he brings his head down, "it hosts knowledge from peoples across over the stars. It must be capable of securing the vastness."
When I look back at him, I tense when I see he has come far too close to me. It would have been wise to pull away, perhaps to even shove him off to get my point across, but somehow, I find his proximity as a challenge. I grit my teeth and narrow my eyes at him, "undoubtedly stolen, plucked from the rubble of your destruction."
A chill rushes up my spine when he smirks at me. It remains lopsided and smug as he whispers "I don't feel the need to preserve artifacts from a race that is unable to see the glory of my purpose."
That's it. I begin to slowly step away from him.
"Do you want to know how these shelves are managed?"
"No, I really-"
I make a sound when he grabs me and locks me against his chest. Before I can even begin to fight back, I find my feet get lifted off the ground along with him. Next thing I know, I'm gasping and clinging onto him for dear life.
"Put me down," I gasp against his chest as I seal my arm tightly against him.
He chuckles as we continue to float up. He tightens his grip on me as I feel myself begin to slip. He flexes his feet and pushes them beneath mine. I look up at him as I step on his boots.
"This is how you manage them," he iterated, then motioning to his side, "or you use the ladder."
I scoff in disbelief, grabbing onto his collar, "put me down, Kylo."
He blinks at me, lips curing into a bigger smile, "alright."
He slowly bringing me down and I tense when he clutches my waist and speaks out my name.
I look away from him and watch as the floor nears. By the time it was close enough, I jump off him and walk away.
Kylo Ren watches and chuckles, "the exit is the other, baby bird."
I stop in my tracks and glare at him. He does not waste time and walks up to me. My breath hitches when he does, reeling over the look on his face. He moves past me and walks away.
I watch him as he does so, and then an idea strikes me. I debate my chances on living here and convincing the servants to get me food... a bucket-
"Don't be ridiculous. I will throw you over my shoulder if you will not follow," Kylo Ren announces. He stops in his tracks and looks over to me, "you are my empress, not my captive, even though you feel that way."
I watch him as he raises his hand to me, reaching out to me again like on the day of our wedding, except this time, I could see his eyes and is pouty lips. I huff through my nostrils and grip my fists. I walk over to him glaring at him all the way until I move past him.
Kylo watches, a glint in his eye as he does.
I hear him chuckle.
The next day, I woke up, realizing I was allowed to sleep in. That got me tremendously excited, and so I quickly began to ready myself to begin my attempts at an esca-
I slap my hand on my mouth and release a deep breath from my nostrils.
I take a few more moments and ready to exit my chambers.
The moment I'm about to exit though, I am faced with a servant. I tense at the sight of her but offer her a pinched smile, "Rezba."
Rezba nods and walks in with a tray of food, "please eat before you leave. I will be scolded if I am found to failed to feed you."
Dammit, Rezba.
I sigh, turning to my feet. I watch the woman as she walks off and sets the table. She was one of the servants that helped prepare me on my... wedding day, the one that didn't get choked. As for the one that was, I have not seen or heard from her ever since.
My conscience presses on me every time I think of this. I sigh, walking over to her. I sit down on the chair by the table and smile, "thank you, Rezba. You can go now."
Rezba nods, "as you wish, empress."
I wipe my face as he walked away. I quickly stuff my face with the food. I mean, after all, if I manage what I do, I'll need all the food I can get.
The moment I was done, I exit my chambers and head outside with purpose. I nod at the personnel that greet me and make sure to keep my mask of confidence as I make it to the launch pad.
I practically beam when I see a ship ready for the picking. But then I feel a force surge through me.
"Fuck."
My bride.
I turn over my shoulder in horror. Lo behold, the dark mask of my groom, strutting over to me with troops behind him.
"Come to visit me?" he muffles out behind his helmet.
I clench my jaw and turn to him, doing my best not to roll my eyes.
Somehow, I can see his smirk underneath as he speaks, "you didn't even change out of your nightclothes."
I let out a strangled sound as I turn to the two people behind Kylo. One had red hair and one was as clad in uniform as the Supreme Lord.
"This is General Hux and Captain Phasma," Kylo motions to the two of them.
I hum, "yes... hello," I smile without meeting my eyes, "well, now that I've... seen my husband, I'm... I'm going back to my chambers."
The two behind Kylo nod at me. I try not be so annoyed as I walk away.
Next time you plan to escape, you should probably change into something that would protect you from the harshness of space.
I grit my teeth and snap over my shoulder, "GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"
General Hux recoils at my voice. Kylo Ren chuckles under his breath.
The next day, I have no such luck of escaping at all.
"Don't you have some-" I quip over my shoulder as Kylo tails me like the dark shadow he was, "-I don't know... planet to blow up," my voice gets increasingly smaller as I say this and hear myself.
Kylo Ren, in one of the rare occurrences he did not have his helmet on, stops to look at me. He presses his lips together, "do you have a pla-"
"No!" I raise hands, "forget that I said that... please."
I turn away from him and begin to tread deeper into the halls of the library.
I hear him snort behind me, "I don't want you to continue to delude yourself into thinking escaping is an option. It would just be a waste of both our time if you do so."
I roll my eyes and shake my head, "and I don't want to delude you in thinking that I would ever stop trying to escape you."
I actually stop in my tracks when I hear him laugh out loud. I turn over to him in great offence as he then turns to me with bright eyes.
I seethe with venom, "I'm glad one of us finds this funny."
He straightens himself up and crosses his arms, "it's funny how you fail to see how alike we are."
My face drops in horror. I march over to him and point a finger at him, "we are nothing alike!"
I jolt when he grabs my wrist and pushes my hand down. The amusement in his face falters and shifts into something else, "aren't we, my empress?"
My heart begins to pound. I pull away from him and recoil.
My breathing begins to pick up as I rub my wrist.
Kylo watches me and makes up for the space between us by walking forward, "did that hurt you?"
"Does it matter if it did?" I quip.
His face softens yet his brows tighten, "it does."
I scoff.
"I am not the monster you make me out to be."
I scoff again as I continue to walk back, "oh yeah, then what ar-" I gasp when I hit something. I panic and turn, seeing it was the step ladder. I have no choice but to halt as Kylo presses nearer. I swallow the lump on my throat as I look at his face.
I will myself not to be so affected by his presence.
I clench my jaw.
My willpower is not very effective.
"I am your husband," he mutters.
I freeze when he brings his hands to my side, though he does not touch me. His eyes dart to my hands that I clutch to my chest. He releases a breath, "I want to bring order to the galaxy."
A shiver runs down my spine, "Kylo..."
His eyes lock on mine. I even my breathing.
I shake my head and knit my brows, "do you genuinely think," I speak softly with no hint of malice, "that killing billions is order?"
His jaw tightens. He drops his hands to his side, "it is an necessary stake for the greater good-"
"Greater good?!" I quip under my breath, grabbing onto his cheeks. I look at him with wide eyes as he looks at me with a similar shocked expression, "you believe razing through the stars is the greater good?"
My whole body pricks when he takes my wrists in his hands and whispers, "my love."
I suck in a sharp breath.
"You do not understand it now," he explains, shaking his head, "but everything that I am, everything that I do," his voice becomes really quiet, "is for us."
My expression drops where his softens.
"For our future," he whispers, "for our next generation and after."
"Kylo-"
"I do it because I believe in our cause," he cuts me off, "I do it because without us, the galaxy will never know anything but chaos."
My breath begins to strain.
He releases one wrist and reaches out for my face, "I will do all it takes, and give you all the time to understand this."
Mu face burns at the feel of his gloved hand. I shake my head, "why?"
"Because you are my star, my burning destiny," he mutters, "the Force brought you to me. I felt you that day on your home planet, you were so strong, you were so strong and so misguided. I tried to kill you that day, but you got away."
My eyes begin to water. I begin to relive that day in my head.
"Then I dreamt about you, I dreamt about how you escaped me and how I hated that you did. Snoke saw it. He saw you in my head. He saw your drive. He saw your weakness. He saw what you could become. And then, he said I burned because you were meant to be mine. He said our Forces were calling for each other, which was why I could not stop dreaming about you."
I begin to tremble against him.
He clutches my face with both hands, "don't be afraid. It took me a while to understand it as well, but-"
"Kylo-" I shudder, "you don't dream of me because I'm your bride, you dream of me because of him!"
He stills.
"Don't you see?" I pant, "he's manipulating you. The dark side is mani-"
"If anyone has been manipulated, it is you, baby bird," he grunts, "you were indoctrinated with beliefs that are short sighted and weak. I would not-"
He doesn't finish and turns his head to the side when a voice of a stormtrooper buzzes through the hall, "apologies for the interruption, my lord. I was tasked to escort you to the throne room, the Supreme Leader is summoning you."
Kylo Ren turns to face him. I suck in a breath as suddenly, he grabs my hand and pulls me with him as we walk past the stormtrooper, "an escort won't be necessary."
If I wasn't shaking a while ago, I surely was now, and Kylo Ren could feel it. Kylo stole looks over his shoulder. I did nothing but try to even my breath as we tread the hall.
I could feel him holding onto me with his Force, trying to contain me almost... trying to comfort me.
I tense when he releases my hand in lieu of draping his arm over my shoulder, "he will not touch you. He will not harm you," he mutters as I look up at him. He stares straight as we continue walking, "I will make it a point to keep this brief. You have nothing to worry about."
I wanted his words to comfort me, I wanted him to be able to comfort me so badly. And yet when I was face to face with his master, I couldn't even muster the courage to put my faux brave face on. He pulled away from me and pushed me behind him as he greeted the being.
"Why do you continue to disappoint me so, Kylo Ren?" Snoke inquires with a voice of disdain.
This had something to do about me, I am sure of it.
"I am doing everything you asked me," Kylo retorts rather simply.
"And I gave you a bride, yet still you have no efforts for an heir!" he accuses, "must I teach you even in the ways of the flesh, boy?!"
Kylo clenches his fist, he mumbles, "no."
"THEN DO YOUR DUTY!"
"I am making sure everything is perfect for her. She cannot bear me and heir if she is damaged or scared," Kylo retorts.
Snoke tilts his head, "and are you trying to say that has something to do with me?"
"I am SAYING-" Kylo Ren starts, raising his voice as he did. In my shock, I pull back at his cloak, not wanting to feel the wrath of his master. Not now, not ever, especially not in my dreams, not again.
Kylo holds himself back. He huffs, "I will do my duties as her husband. This isn't something for you to meddle with."
"Meddle?" Snoke scoffs but then laughs. He, in fact, laughs so hard, it echoes in the room. He catches his breath then sighs, "Fine." Snoke raises a finger and suddenly, Kylo's boots skid on the floor as he is moved away to reveal me from behind him.
I turn to Snoke, feeling my heart quicken in my ribcage.
Kylo steps back in front of me. I take his arm and hold onto it for dear life.
Snoke stares at his protégé. He tilts his head, "I expect this to change, soon. Her belly should never not be carrying an heir."
Her belly should never not be carrying an heir.
Her belly should never not be carrying an heir.
Her belly should never not be carrying an heir.
"Enough!" Kylo snaps me out of my trance. I turn to him, eyes wide, body trembling. We weren't in the throne room any more, we were in our chambers, soaked in dark retreat of it all. I had no idea when we got here. All I know was I was here with Kylo, who was clutching my face so tightly. He looks at me with something of annoyance, something of concern, "don't think about him anymore, think about me. Just think about me."
I shake my head in sheer disbelief. I push his hands away, "is that supposed to make me feel better?"
Kylo straightens.
"You," I start, "want me here for the same reason he does!"
His expression hardens.
"You and him had plagued me with nightmares for as long as I can remember," I shake my head, "the only reason, I think, I don't have them anymore is because I actually get to live my nightmares out in real life."
"So?" he quips, "what do you mean to say?"
I bite my lip, "just-" I feel my eyes water, "take what you want and... and-"
I hold my breath when Kylo grabs my chin and tilts my head up to look at him. He brings his face close to mine. His nose is barely brushing my own. I feel his hot breath on my face as he enunciates one word, "want."
I blink rapidly at the sound of his voice.
"Shhh," he hushes, "if it's Snoke you worry about, don't. I have been planning something for him, long before you even came to me. He is the least of your worries," he explains. "But do you know what I want, bride?" he asks, as though to taunt me.
I shudder. I think of replying, but I don't.
"I know what you want," he mutters. He begins to move forward, and so I have no choice but to move back as he pushes me in the direction he wants, "you want to run away from me, baby bird. You think you can break free."
His hand only leaves my chin when my calves hit the foot of the bed and I fall back, heart hammering, breath clawing at my throat. He drones, "but what I want?"
Kylo Ren undoes his gloves and undoes his belt as he towers over me.
I want to strangle your light. I want to break you so badly. I want to fucking burn you from the inside until you can only hear yourself screaming from how good it feels to finally have your wet, little c-
I slap my hands to my mouth I hear the thoughts running through his head.
Kylo stills. He tilts his head then chuckles, "so... you heard that?"
I sigh deeply, attempting to even my breath as I back away from him. I squeak when he lunges and traps me beneath him. He crushes me against his chest and pins my wrists by my head. I turn away from him as he whispers hotly against my ear, "it would be so easy to have you like this, right?"
My screw my eyes shut. Tears lace my lashes.
"You won't even fight me off, you couldn't."
I shudder when he releases one of my wrists and brings his free hand down to my thighs. I feel my body burn and tingle at his slow caress.
He kisses my jaw and my skin there is set ablaze, "you don't want to fight me off," he chuckles, "you could at least do something with your hand to save face."
When I finally remember where my free hand is, Kylo takes it back in his and lifts his head, "too late." He pushes himself up, "look at me."
I clench my jaw.
"You'll know never to make me ask for the same thing twice."
I give a shallow huff and open my eyes, looking up at him.
"I want you to beg me," he whispers, "I want you to be so desperate to finally," he begins to further pull away, "finally, take you," he knits his brows, "to make you my wife that you get on your knees and weep for it."
A shiver runs down my spine as I watch him get up from the bed and grab his gloves, "until then," he reaches his hand out and uses his Force to cover me with the sheets, "you belong to yourself."
He haunts me in my dreams that night. Not as a figure of darkness, not as a ghost, but as a man, as starving entity, ready to consume me, eager to take me.
He haunts me every night after. And every night his intentions are made clearer and clearer until I wake up and think he and I wake up and I'm shocked he's not actually there.
It became hard to look at him, especially when my stomach began to flip and my thighs involuntarily pressed together. I was turning sick.
And then one day, the news spreads like wildfire. Snoke is dead, Kylo Ren is the Supreme Leader, and I, his Supreme Empress.
It was weird. I was called Empress before and he was called Emperor before, but now, now it was real. Now I was parading with Kylo Ren in the capital, looking at citizens waving at us and throwing flowers our way. And then I was shaking strangers' hands and Kylo snarled at whomever dared embrace me a second too long.
But what really cemented our reign and the realness of it all, was when someone tried to attack me. Kylo felt the assailant before he got too close though and choked him dead in the middle of the crowd. I watched as the man's weapon fell to the ground, as he withered in pain, as he eventually stopped moving. He suffered. I knew Kylo wanted him to. The festivities were long over after that, and I was then I was reminded of who he truly was.
He was a brute. A beast. The shadow in my mind. He was-
I turn over my left as a blanket is draped over my shoulder. Kylo Ren sits beside me on the bed and offers me glass of water, "I'm sorry you had to see that."
I huff at the sound of his apology. I wrap my blanket tighter on me.
He sighs and brings the glass to the table using his Force, "I would do it again, though. You should know. I would not hesitate even a second."
I curl my legs up into my chest, "am I supposed to be grateful?"
"I would prefer if you were," he mutters.
"Kylo..."
I suck in a breath when he says his name.
"I'm- I'm too tired to argue. I want to go to sleep," I mutter, moving on the bed until I was laid down. Kylo watches me as I do this, then stands.
"Wait," I call out, surprising even myself.
Kylo stills.
No turning back now. "I... I don't want to be alone... not after that... even though you did it."
Kylo waits.
He debates my words.
I hide behind my blanket, "nevermi-"
The next thing I know, I feel him move next to me. And there, he lies.
I feel him next to me. We're under the same blanket. I feel myself begin to grow warm.
"I can get a separate blanket if you're so uncomfortable."
"Get out of my fucking thoughts."
"... ... I don't want to."
I grunt and wrap myself tightly under the blanket, surely yanking however much was on Kylo off.
"Your mind is an oasis to me."
I say nothing.
"My mind is a dessert, you are my oasis."
I huff through the sheets, "don't talk to me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like that!"
"I'm telling you what-"
"I'm done with this conversation."
I close my eyes and tighten my embrace on myself. I release a breath and try to clear my mind.
"Are you that cold?" Kylo murmers
"I'm not cold."
"I know."
"Then why did you ask?" I quip turning to him.
I freeze when I do so, instantly regretting my decision. He was lying on his side, looking at me, his face was right in front of mine and his arms were wrapped around himself. He blinks slowly as he looks at me, "I know you want to be held."
I huff through my slightly agape mouth, then I clench my jaw tightly. I move back from him cautiously, retreating into my covers, into myself.
"I can hold you," he mutters softly.
I turn away from him, feeling my body ignite.
"I want to hold you," he whispers even softer. Let me hold you.
Shut up, get out of my head.
He takes a moment before speaking again. He releases a breath, "am I that terrifying to you, baby bird?"
Yes.
"Then why do you mutter my name while you sleep?"
I tighten my arms around myself. Stop trying to get into my head.
"I'm already in your head," he retorts, voice closer now, "and in your heart."
"Shut up," I whimper.
I hear high-pitched laugh in my head. His voice surrounds me through the Force. It makes my skin raise. I'm only telling you the truth.
"Face me," he mutters, "coward."
I scoff. I heave, feeling my insides curdle. I clench my jaw then hiss, "at least I'm not a killer with no remorse."
He laughs, "you're making it seem like I should have let him attack you."
"You didn't have to kill him!" I snap, turning back to him, pushing myself up on my palms, "you could have given him a prison sentence."
"For what?!" he barks back, unravelling his crossed arms, lifting face up slightly, "so he could plan to attack you again, but next time when I'm not around to defend you?!"
"He only wanted to attack me because I'm married to you!" I hiss, sitting up from my spot.
Kylo sits up too and shakes his head, "he wanted to attack you because he thinks you're my weakness."
"Because I am your weakness!" I quip, "I'm your docile bride!"
He scoffs, grabbing my jaw, "you made yourself into this, little girl," he leans towards me. My pulse quickens as he pushes my head back, hand coming to the side of my face, fingers digging into my hair, "you where the rebel that fought against my troops and managed to escape me. The Force is strong with you," he places his other hand on the other side of my face, "that is why you are my bride."
When Kylo Ren pulls away and lies down, my insides begin to burn, to fume, and rage at his words. I watch him and I slowly begin to see red. And yet, he closes his eyes and acts like this whole conversation didn't happen. He prepares to sleep like there's nothing wrong.
This is my final straw.
I lunge at him. I dart my claws out and growl. I jump on him and press down on his throat. I straddle him and lean all my weight all my strength onto his airways. His eyes shoot open. His hands dart to my wrists. He begins to choke. I put all my anger into my grip. I force against him, knowing full well if I lost the upper hand, I'd be dead.
Except he doesn't make an move beyond clutching my wrists. I wait for him to attempt to overpower me, I wait for him to throw me off him the way I knew he could, and end all of this, and, in turn, kill me instead, but he doesn't.
He doesn't fight back.
Instead he looks up at me as his air leaves him as his face begin to turn maroon, as his veins begin to stress, as his final breaths escape his lips. And then I realize what I was doing and I pull back.
I pull back and heave in horror, wrists breaking free of his hold, hovering by my chest as I looked down at him while he caught his breath. He closes his eyes as his palms land on my thighs. My eyes water, the same way tears laced his lashes.
Why didn't he fight back?
Why isn't he fighting back?
He wanted me to kill him?
He wanted me to kill him?
I watch as his chest rises and falls beneath me. I am then suddenly aware of our position. I feel a tinge burn in my cheeks and my core. It's inexplicable, whether I am embarrassed over the fact I tried to kill him or the fact I was straddling him beneath me.
Before I can get off him though, he finally overpowers me and traps me beneath him. Easily. Swiftly. I was nothing against him. And this fact was amplified as he pins my wrists down on the pillows overhead with just one hand. He presses himself against me, heaving heavily, as if he was doing something with great restraint. It makes my stomach drop.
"That's the difference between you and I," he pants, as his one hand comes up to my neck, "if I wanted you dead, my love..." he begins to press down on my throat.
I begin to panic and thrash beneath him.
Shhhhhh.
He steadies me still in his place. I am overcome by him, unsure if it was just his physical prowess or if he was using his Force as he pushes down on me. I get a semblance of an answer when the pressure on my throat remains and I unable to move my wrists though both his hands go to the sides of my thighs.
I gulp as he leaves hot kisses all over my skin. I huff sharply when I am released of my Force bounds. My hands dart to his torso, gripping at his clothes as I try to push him away.
I would never damage you.
I let out a sound when he releases his chokehold.
Not unless you want me to.
Kylo then begins to bring his face close to mine, pressing our cheeks together for a moment. My stomach rolls and my breath hitches when his hot lips meet my mine. My heart is racing. He undoubtedly could feel it against him.
My panic rises. I quickly manage in between kisses, "Kylo-"
"Beg me," he pulls away and breathes against my ear, "beg me..." he kisses the pulse on my neck, "to get off you-- to leave you alone, to shoot myself into the sun-"
Kylo begins to rub himself between my open legs. Slowly. Roughly. I whimper. He freezes. I feel blood rise up my face. I begin to push him back harder.
He tightens his hold on me, repelling my actions by pressing his weight further onto me, "beg me to finally make you live out your fantasies," his voice loudens, "to make you mine."
I grit my teeth tightly.
"Beg me," he groans, "beg."
I whine, nails digging into his sides as I push against him.
He kisses my jaw, hands leaving my thighs, grabbing my wrists, pushing them down on my sides, "use your words. Hark to me, my baby bird."
My breath hitches, "Kylo, please."
Kylo pulls his face back, nose just above mine, looking down at me with hooded eyes. He waits for me to continue, breath straining as he did. My lips part and my feel my pulse echo in every inch of my body.
I gulp and ready to speak... but I can't. I don't. My mouth goes dry and all I could think about was how his dark locks were framing his face, and how his lips were moving as he heaved arduously, and how I wanted to find where the scar on his face ended.
Then I am ripped out of my incredulous thoughts.
"Please what?" his breath his hot against my face as he coaxes.
I close my lips and catch my breath that was leaving me, "please... stop."
"Stop what, darling?" he utters. I close my eyes when he leans his forehead against mine. He releases my wrists, hands coming to my sides, nails scratching down me until his large hands ended up on my thighs again. I squeak when his hips buck into mine with more intent.
My hands come to Kylo's neck, fingers digging into the roots of his hair.
He shifts atop me, pulling his head back up, weight all on my core, making me moan at the pressure. His nose brushes against mine. He breathes out my name. My eyes shoot open because of it.
I find his eyes are screwed shut, a line between his brows. His jaw clenches. His nostrils flare as he steadies his breathing.
"Kylo-"
"Yes," he speaks before I even finish saying his name.
His eyelids slowly part when I tug his face towards me, legs tightening around his waist, crossing over his back. He lets out a huff that bounces from my face to his. His hands rub down to my butt and there his grip tightens.
Right when our lips brush against each other, he lifts his head ever so slightly and whispers, "beg me to make you mine."
My throat tightens.
"I need to hear it," his voice is soft.
I suck in a breath and call out his name.
He releases a sharp one as he says mine.
I call out his name.
He responds with mine.
I hesitate.
He rubs his nose against mine then says quietly, "make me yours please."
I suck in a breath. My stomach explodes with butterflies. "Make... me yours," I mumble, relaxing against him, hands rubbing down his neck to his shoulders. I close my eyes and sigh, "please."
He nods, "louder."
"Kylo-"
"Louder," he mutters with a tight breath, "one last time."
"Make me yours, please."
Kylo hisses then connects his lips to mine. He moans, amplifying the hungriness of the kiss. His hands are quick and desperate as they grip at my clothing. He pushes off me and begins to strip me of all the hindrances on my being
I whimper as he eagerly does his work. One by one, he rips my clothes off. He does so with such impatience, I hear the tears and the strains of my clothes.
He sits me down as he removes each piece off me until I'm left in my panties. I wrap my arms around my bare chest. Kylo leans in, hands rubbing my bare thighs. My skin pricks because of the contact. He mutters, "your turn, my dear."
He kisses me as he grabs my hands. He pries them off my chest and ends our kiss, placing my palms at the hem of his top. He lifts his hands, eyes not leaving mine, wordlessly urging me to strip him.
I shift on my knees and pull his top off, discarding it along with the rest of my clothing that he threw on the floor. My hands instinctively come to his pants, fiddling the belt on his waist band.
He gets on his knees and grabs my face. He pulls me in for a kiss, moving closer until I'm pressed against the headboard. He guides my hands as they push his pants down.
We keep kissing until he breaks away to strip all together. I don't have time to react cause when he does, he pushes me down using his Force, and brings my legs together as to rid me of the last thing keeping me modest. I screw my eyes shut as he snatches my underwear.
Before I could feel too conscious about being naked in front of the man that was my husband, about to consummate our marriage, I let out a shaky sound as my legs are grabbed and pushed apart.
I suck in a breath as my arms fly again to my chest. They only stay there for a moment. Even that, Kylo pulls apart as he presses against me. He presses my arms down on the pillows by the sides of my head.
I am unable to conceal my cries at the feel of his hot body pressing against mine. I feel his taut stomach press against my core. It drew out another sound I could not keep in. I feel my pulse against him. I feel my wetness smear on his skin. His hands leave my arms to grab onto my thighs.
When I finally dared to open my eyes, I caught the moment Kylo sank his head onto my chest and began to suckle at the skin on my sternum.
I whimper then I bite my lip tightly. Kylo looks up at me as he takes my left breast and nips at it. He begins to rub against me.
I fist his hair into my hands. I press my head back against the pillows. Kylo's hands travel to my hipbones and digs in his fingers into me. He releases my breast and checks on his work, appreciating the mark he left of my skin before continuing to attend to my breast with his mouth.
I tighten my legs around his waist as he continues to grind down on me. I feel my heart racket behind my ribs as Kylo moves to my other breast.
"Kylo," I whimper, as my nails dig into his scalp.
He moans and releases my flesh, whispering hotly against my skin, "yes, my empress?"
I exhale through my open mouth and look at him with a dazed expression. I clutch his cheeks, "I want you-- need you-" I sigh.
Kylo lifts his body slightly, one hand releasing my hip. "To what?" he murmurs, "-need to hear you say it."
His fingers roughly draw a line from my side to my core. I gasp when he touches my aching nub. I lift my head, looking out at his hand as he looks down on me. His two digits dote on the wet heat between my legs. He slowly rubs circles on my flesh, teasing my entrance.
He holds my hips in place as a squirm beneath him. Then his hands hook by the curve of my thigh and pushes one leg up to my chest. He leans in and says, "need to what, my bride?"
I whine as my hands brush down to his shoulders. I claw at him, pulling him closer to me, "need to..." whimper, "to be made yours."
He exhales loudly. He heaves heavily as he sinks two fingers into my sopping core, slowly and firmly rubbing into me, stretching my flesh deliciously. I whine like a wraith.
"You have no idea how long I've imagined touching you like this," he admits as he toys my entrance with his fingers.
"Kylo."
He pulls his hand away and grabs my other thigh, pushing it up by my ribs.
I look at him as he brings his face close and lifts his hips. He digs his fingers into the bend of my knees and my toes curl when I feel him press against me, hard and pulsing.
I lick my lips and break into a whine when he slowly sheathes himself into me, releasing a hot breath by the crown of my head as he did so.
I whimper at the feel of him sinking in all the way. I tighten my legs around him and reach out to the sheets by my sides and rip at them.
Kylo slowly begins to rock into me, groaning as he does so, "so warm, wet and soft," he grabs my hands and places it on his back, "so soft and-" he licks my skin and bites down.
I choke on my breath as he does this. His pace thrusts hasten. He hands grab my knees and push them into my chest, "mine. All mine."
He lifts himself up and ruts into me with vigor.
Soon enough I feel my mind blur while my voice lets out incoherences at the snapping of Kylo's hips.
I claw at his back with little regard for how much it may hurt him.
Kylo howls in response, quickening his pace even more, adjusting his hold on me until his position was perfect and my head was knocking slightly into the board.
"Fill you up with me," he grunts, "fill you until you're a mess, mark you until you're tender, repeat until you're sore."
I don't respond. I don't know what to. I don't have much of a brain to speak anything anyway.
Kylo thrusts into me at such a strong and steady pace, it's not long until I feel a flurry in my stomach and a tingle in my chest.
I whine out his name. I pull him into me. He leans in and huffs against my cheek, "feels good, right? I can make you feel good."
I catch his lips into my teeth. He rip away only to kiss me as he breaks me.
We pull away to breathe yet Kylo does lose his tempo. I feel my eyes water and my mouth dry over my continuous jaw dropped cries.
"Just want to make you feel good," he whispers heavily, "want to make you mine."
"Feel so good," I mindlessly mutter, "so - Kylo."
In that next moment, I feel my insides shatter around him. I let out a loud cry of relief. My fingers curl into his back as I tighten and convulse around him. My toes curl as I lock my legs around him. Instantaneously, I feel a sharp heat splatter into me and it magnifies my delirium.
I hear him curse and whine against my ear. I feel him tighten his hold on me as he continues the work with his hips, still as quick as before.
And as I ride out my high and tighten around him, only then does Kylo's actions find some irregularity. My head no longer hits the board, though my body very much still moves up and down with Kylo's movements.
As the final ripples of my pleasure calm down, so does the knocking of our hips.
When he is satisfied, he releases my hips and grabs my face. He kisses me and catches his breath in between.
"Do you want me to get off you?" he asks.
I quickly shake my head in disagreement and wrap my arms around him.
"Good," he rests his head beside mine and slowly relaxes on top of me. He sighs and brushes his nose against my head, "I want to stay in you forever."
I bite my lip and lean my face into his.
"I will write your name in the stars," he whispers, "I will give you everything in the galaxy. All you have to do is be mine."
I gulp and sigh heavily, yet I internally find myself agreeing.
His hand rubs my side, "I hope you don't get pregnant too quickly," he kisses my head, "there's so much I have to do with you first."
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Survival. IX
Summary: You were determined to survive longer than anyone, even if you were set to marry him.
Genre: Historical AU, angst, mature, suggestive, arranged-marriage
Warnings: Dark themes, gore, graphic imagery, theme/depictions of horror, body horror, swearing/language, suggestive, mentions of suicide, arguments, mentions of adult murder, Pet name (Little Flower 1-2x) implied Stockholm Syndrome, grief imagery, images/depictions of dead bodies, child death/murder, character death(s), slight misogynistic themes (if you squint)
Word Count: 3.4k
JJK Mlist•Taglist Rules• • Pt.I • Pt. II • Pt. III • Pt. IV • Pt. V • Pt. VI • Pt.VII • Pt. VIII • Pt. IX • Pt. X • Epilogue
You remembered the most content morning you had ever had. It was a relatively beautiful and tranquil day in the garden. The sky was clear, and the sun was beaming brightly, yet the weather was pleasant. It was the most satisfying day you had ever had within the temple.
It was also the day your twins spoke their first word.
You had been spending quality time with your twins, your attendant joining the activities as you both basked in their childish nature. She had grown as close as family and acted like an aunt to your kids, and if you were being honest, she felt like a sister to you in some sense. You truly appreciated her company and assistance throughout the time you had known her— especially when sharing this memorable moment.
It felt like it was out of a dream when the word effortlessly slipped from your daughter’s mouth. Moments ago, she was a child who only knew how to babble, laugh, and cry, but now she was a little girl capable of speaking. And if your daughter hadn’t surprised you enough, your son letting the same word slip next had left you paralyzed with shock.
“Mama.”
Yes, it was a standard word for a child to speak first other than Dada or Papa— a cliché, as most would say, but that was the last thing on your mind. To hear your child acknowledge you for the first time and know they recognize you as their mother was a pleasure that could not compare to the joys of sex, alcohol, or money– it is a pleasantry of its own. You swore you would do anything to hear them call you their "Mama" for as long as possible.
And if anyone took that away from you, they would be damned to hell.
The screams of a woman echoed through the temple. The shrieks were ear-splitting and could cause anybody's ears to bleed upon walking into the hearing radius. You could only listen as the screams continued, the sound muffling out as your ears began to ring again.
Why was she screaming? The woman in question should have been thrilled that your children were deceased– they would have been a threat to her. She was probably trying to win Sukuna's favor in some fucked up way. The bitch had no right to grieve in your presence nor in solitude. You had every want to strangle her soundless; however, something stopped you from that impulse.
Your throat began to burn.
At that moment, you realized the screams of grief and agony were those of your own. Nobody was present in that room, just you and Sukuna, as your cries echoed in the room and nearby halls. You were blinded by your own tears as you stared at the now-blurry image of your twin's hanging corpses, choking on your own sobs as you collapsed to the ground, holding your midriff with the painful thought that the life you had cultivated within you for nine months and raised for six years was now reduced to carcasses hanging from a wall.
Your blessings had been snatched from you, from right under your nose.
You should have known things would have not been so simple. You should have never let your guard down for even a second. This was your punishment for being so blissfully ignorant when you should have analyzed all the possible faults in your plan and anticipated any threats that remained to perform a clean escape.
You stood on weak legs, shuffling to the wall that was covered in blood. In your mind, you always thought that the blankness of those walls would drive you mad– you never anticipated that the splash of color would be the thing that forced you to insanity. The crimson dripping down the wall proved you wrong.
Your hands shook as your fingers hovered over the pins that were holding your children in place, flinching back as you swallowed the bile rising up your throat before reaching for one of the pins again. You made an attempt to hold back your sobs but with little success. Huffs, spittles, and gurgles continued to resonate from you as you held back your cries– you looked pathetic.
Your hands felt weak as you pulled the pin, the audible squelching sound of the flesh rubbing against the item sickening you to the core, yet you persisted. You pulled the lower pins that you could reach from your son and daughter, tears gushing out of your eyes as you did so. No torture was as great as this, especially when you went to reach the higher ones. You stood on your toes, stretching for the pins that were sunk into your twin's hands, but it was futile. Under normal circumstances, you could have reached that high; you would have improvised a way to do it, but your mind was numb, and your body felt weak.
"Help me," you choked as you continued to reach.
The only response you got was silence.
"Please," you weakly whispered, "Please, help me."
Silence lingered again, but before you could plea a second time– your husband spoke.
"Why?"
You paused in your movement, your breath hitching as the simple word echoed in your head.
"Why?" you repeated, bewilderment found in your whisper, "Why?"
Your head slowly turned to look over your shoulder, your eyes gleaming with fury as you looked at Sukuna.
"I'll tell you why," you seethed, "For eight years, I have lived in this temple with you and your sickened whores and bastards– lived in your residence with little to no complaint. I have endured everything bestowed upon me and have managed to keep my spine straight with my head held high– and when in your presence, I have given you nothing but the lowest bows of respect despite the falsities of that action; I sacrificed my pride!" you paused to breathe before continuing, "I bore you children and dealt the blunt trauma of my impossible pregnancy and labor without complaint or ask of favor because you and I both know I would have gladly died in the process. In my life here, I have asked you for ONE SINGULAR FAVOR that would benefit both of us!"
Another pause as you caught your breath.
"The very least you could do," your voice shook with exasperation, "is grant me this one selfish wish."
"Do you understand the line you are crossing, Little Flower," Sukuna threatened as he took a few steps forward.
"Well aware," you answered without hesitation, "but at least if you killed me now, I would reunite with my children and be rid of you," you grinned mockingly at your partner.
You watched as the menacing man raised a hand, keeping eye contact with you as he did so. Normally you would have feared that this was the end of the line, but that was before your worst nightmare had already came true. Some part of you wished that he would hit you, hoping that once he did, he would snap you out of what you hoped what was an illusion of some sort, a night terror, a cursed technique, possibly a hallucination— all three were very much possibilities, but deep down you knew you were in denial, however, you did not want to accept it.
The slap never came.
Instead, your companion reached his arm above you, removing the pins that held your twins hostage against the wall. Sukuna took his time, clearly in no rush, leaving you antsy as you began to wriggle in impatience. You just wanted to hold them and look upon their innocent face. Maybe they were not dead, maybe there was still a breath of life in them, and you could somehow convince your husband to use his curse reversal technique on them due to the terms of your contract.
Maybe, just maybe…
Once the last pins restraining your children were removed, you were quick to cradle your twins, holding them close to your chest as more sobs escaped from your quivering lips. Your fingers lightly touched their skin as you caressed their faces with motherly gentleness. After moments, your cries subsided into a quiet lament as you continued to hold your little boy and girl.
You would have done anything to prevent this fate.
"Mama..." a voice spoke, but excessively strained and quiet.
You jumped up to see your little boy's eyes open no more than a slit. Without hesitation, you rushed to grab his face, babbling words of encouragement for him to stay awake. You were eager as you prepared to attempt to perform reverse cursed technique, but before you could, another strained voice sounded.
"Ma-Mama."
You panicked once more, moving to face your daughter as her condition was nearly the same. You were torn on what to do and had almost turned to Sukuna for his assistance, but it was useless. As quickly as those words were spoken were as fast as they faded back into eternal sleep.
What was this? You had to ask again, but what had you done to deserve this? To be worthy of this torture? Was there not a more deserving candidate for this cruelty you were enduring? Had you just been born to be cursed like this?
Questions raveled your mind, and thoughts ate at you alive– you were beginning to spiral. Your voice, along with many of the other voices from your past, flooded your head, screaming at you all at once as the memories began to invade your consciousness. Your head was starting to hurt from lingering in your mind, far away from reality. If anyone were to look upon your form, you would seem like the hollow husk of a woman based on how you sat there unmoving and totally silent as you stared blankly at the bloody wall– it seemed like you were looking through it like a piece of glass, that is how lost you were, until...
Everything went silent.
The voices in your head had settled, and all you could hear was Sukuna's breathing and your own echoing throughout the room. It was eerily quiet as the two of you remained.
"Their first words were their last."
You spoke without thought; the words had just slipped as you turned back to the father of your children, being met with his expressionless stare. You did not expect a response, but you could tell by the look in his eyes that he was no happier about this situation than you were; however, Sukuna was not grieving like you were. Your reasons for your dour moods were different, but that did not matter– you both were upset about what occurred.
As you held your husband's stare, it was almost as if you had some sort of understanding with one another, communicating without speaking before turning your attention back to your twins. With caution, you gently lifted your children into your arms, slowly standing as you managed to balance their limp bodies in your hold as you walked toward the door.
Your feet moved without command as you walked through the corridor, Sukuna walking at your side as you ventured in silence. The experience was almost that of your arrival at the temple– all eyes were on you; however, there were no whispers of gossip or vial comments and disgusting displays of arousal as you departed. The tension radiating from your aura was too great for such ill manners to be publicly displayed.
You had no clue where you were going and were hardly thinking about it. Your mind was void of consciousness as you reached the grand doors of the temple, stepping out into the cool night air. A part of you wishes you could have enjoyed it, to relish your first time outside the temple walls since your marriage, but the feeling was bitter and dull, especially as you looked upon the lights illuminating from your village.
Trekking through the terrain, you watched the lights grow brighter and more prominent, similar to the unknown feeling festering in your chest. You could hear their voices, their chanting of uprising as you approached the crowd, stopping just at the border of your village. One of the village elders was the first to notice you and Sukuna's approaching figures before ceasing the noise, focusing on your arrival.
"Y/n L/n, you have finally come home. Your family will be happy to know that you have finally returned," pausing to look at Sukuna before bringing his attention back to you, "It was wise of this monster to return you as requested. Come now child, we shall reunite you with your family."
You could hear him speak and understand his meaning and indirect stab at Sukuna's pride, but the words flowed from one ear to the other as your body remained rooted at the barrier.
"Come now, child, you are free!" the elder insisted as he motioned to you, confused and seemingly irritated at your lack of response.
"No."
The word slipped out seamlessly as you blankly stared at the man, watching his expression turn into shock.
"What do you mean, 'No'?"
"It means what I said," you simply responded before continuing, "Why would I come back to a home that sent me away like a lamb to the slaughter. You presented me like a slab of meat to the man you call a monster as if he were some valued patron, but suddenly, I have become worthy of retrieval after how many years? Why is that?"
"You ungrateful woman! We have pursued you for some time due to your parents' request. They paid handsomely to bring you back home, paid enough to fund our cause."
"And what cause was that?!" you retaliated.
"To kill that vile creature who stole you from us, my dear daughter!"
"...Mother," you whispered to yourself as your mom came into view, your father following her as they made their presence known.
"But it seems his influence has already tainted your mind," your mother spoke with a solemn look in her eyes, "But we can fix that if you just come home." the woman persisted as she held her arms out for a welcoming embrace.
Her comfort was tempting, but there was a lingering feeling of hesitance the longer you looked at the picture. This was something you wished for a long time, to be welcomed home with open arms, but the dream seemed stale as you stood there unmoving.
"Then why were harmless children slaughtered in his place?" you questioned.
"Harmless?" your parents uttered, baffled by your statement, "Those children were born to become monsters along with their father! They were far from harmless! That is why we had to cut them out of the picture!" your father yelled.
"...You did it?" you softly asked.
You could see your father's mouth open before closing, moving his gaze from your eyes to the motionless bodies in your arms. The disgusted faces your parents held were replaced with one of bewilderment and fear. They could finally understand your reluctance.
"Y/n..."
"They were harmless..." you started in a mutter, "They were not monsters! They were innocent! And you accused them of crimes they have never committed!"
"With their upbringing, it would have been inevitable! They were their father's children, after all!" the village elder interrupted, disdain laced in his voice.
"They were not guilty of Sukuna's crimes! They were innocent children!" you voiced, outraged with the small-minded thinking.
You looked to your parents for support but were only met by them avoiding your stare. They believed their actions were reasonable and considered them valid. You were not the one who was influenced... they were.
"Damn you all," you muttered, turning your back to the villagers.
"We did this for you to survive, Y/n! And here you are, well and alive. You kept your promise, so please come home!"
"Survived...survived..." Your chest heaved as you began to laugh hysterically. You placed your children down before rising, "Is this what survival is, just staying alive? Well, if that is the case, then yes, I have survived just like I promised, but with the cost of my life! I may have survived, but I will never live...not without them."
"There will be other opportunities to have children, my dear, with a far better suitor," your mother attempted to persuade, her arms still held open.
"Excuse me?"
That had done it.
"The man you practically sold me to was far from my first choice of significant other, but at least he managed to give my life some meaning, something to live for...and you took it from me, the last crowd of people I thought would do such a thing...how naive of me."
"Y/n, if we-"
"If you what?! Tell me, if you had known those children were mine, would you have spared them, given them mercy?"
No response.
"That's what I thought. You know I had hoped to come home with open arms, and shown by tonight, my wish came true; however, that was before I had the twins– the dream expanded to have all three of us welcomed with warmth...how pitifully optimistic of me."
"Y/n, I cannot tell you those events you hoped for would have come to fruition, but I can tell you this: you can start over, have a family you have always dreamed of... pure children."
Silence.
"They. Were. PURE!"
And just like that, the extent of that unusual feeling lingering in your chest had unleashed. The full extent of your furry had combusted in the form of your cursed energy and technique. Within the blink of an eye, what was once a bustling village full of chatter and laughter was now a blazing inferno filled with screams and cries.
You could see the fire, smell the blood, and hear their screams as they begged for mercy. They cried out for their children and loved ones whose bodies were now burning in the roaring flames, reduced to cinders and ashes. Those who threatened to charge were killed before they could make contact, their bodies contorting in ways the human form was incapable of, causing cries of pure agony as they were left to bleed out in their mangled state– they were retired to suffer in their pain as the life slowly drained out of them. If a suffering soul was fortunate, the fire would catch them aflame and kill them faster, or debris would land in a fatal spot or crush them whole to end their misery.
Viewing the demolished structures and flaming bodies, both dead and alive, was a petrifying view– yet you felt nothing. Your breath was methodical, your expression blank, your body unmoving. Pity and remorse were thrown out the window– fear and anguish had long vanished; however, anger and resentment lingered like a tiny flickering flame that continued to grow with each crumble and cry that could be heard.
Although your exterior appearance seemed calm and collected, your heartbeat said otherwise as it accelerated, pounding against your chest so hard you could eventually drown out the hollers of distress with its rapid thumping.
They were now suffering the pain and torture you had suffered for years to its full extent...
Unlike you, it was the kind of punishment they deserved.
You allowed yourself to view the sight for a few seconds longer before picking up your son and daughter, balancing them in your embrace again, and turning your back towards the village. You began to walk toward the temple, knowing better than to run off, but it was not like you had a reason to go anywhere else. There was no life for you. You were to remain by Sukuna's side until you died, and you were content with that.
"Y/n."
With all the heightened emotions and events that occurred only moments ago, you had forgotten Sukuna was there. The curse user had not muttered a word nor made a movement. He idly watched your wrath unfold, watched as you burnt your home to the ground.
You paused for a minute, looking blankly ahead as you thought of the past and reflected on your choices. Out of every action you committed, there was one you regretted most.
"I should have killed myself that morning, the morning after the ceremony. It would have saved me a lot of trouble and heartache."
With that, you walked off into the night, letting that thought of regret linger in your mind.
Taglist:
@littlemochi @mistalli @youngbeansprout @bbylime @bangtan-forever1479 @idktbhloley @izayas-rings @o3o-aya@pyschopotatomeme @persephonehemingway @otomaniac @meforpr3sident @fourcefulcupid @nezuscribe @my-simp-land @zukuphilia @niya729 @spiritofstatic @bbittersw33t @kashasenpai @decaysan @honeybaegle @ygslvr @outrofenty @esposadomd @ali2426 @anmath @yazzzmints @lovingnahida @sincerest-one@rosemaydone321 @j0dios @k-ki3rd @maki-zenin1944 @shadowywizardarcade
#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#ryomen sukuna#sukuna fanfic#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna#tw stockholm syndrome#tw death mention#tw dead body#tw suggestive#tw child murder#tw sui talk#tw arguing#tw body horror#tw g0re#tw grief
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Uuum one of those ghoulish fun ghoul aus where hes just fukin dead except its an au of those aus and hes not actually dead its walking corpse syndrome but not in an oh ive died okay this is the afterlife or something then way no in an im like undead now so i must be invincible way but he is in fact not invincible
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Frostbite doesn’t hurt me, aptly negating my mortality.
Icebound Cheren, AU portrayal.
Cheren uses he/him and nyx/nyxself
notes;
Cheren initially began experiencing minor side effects from Kyurem’s presence early on in his journey, said side effects worsening as he went on until present day. However, they particularly got more severe when Hilbert and Hilda disappeared to go find N.
Since the two of them disappeared, he isolated himself as far as nyx physically could from everyone else— Bianca included, resulting in a divergence from his regular universe counterpart where he did not become a teacher. Nyx instead does due time in scaring away trainers that wander a little too close to the cave— the first few times weren’t on purpose, but now has become intentional on his part.
Disclaimers/Content
This blog will contain fairly graphic descriptions, and while I will attempt to avoid any gore, there is a guarantee of mentions and depictions of frostbite, semi-possession and Cotard’s/Walking Corpse syndrome.
L*wd and sexual content is not allowed on the blog whatsoever, even with the writer being 17+ and Cheren portrayed as 19 in this blog.
Writer/mun goes by Daylight/Toaster and ooc posts will be indicated with ☀️
#pokeblogging#pkmn blog#pokemon irl#pokémon#pokemon#rotomblr#pokemon cheren#rival cheren#trainer cheren#gym leader cheren#cheren
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Fate/Dread: Bad Ending/Chaldea AU
So this is a concept I've had in my head for a while now and have been chatting about it with Aki on and off but I decided I might as well make an outline for this idea too. The bad ending part would be a proper ending option to Dread but the Chaldea portion is more of a silly AU idea that branches off from the bad ending with the help of some headcanons and incorporating FGO canon to fit with it.
>Bad ending stems from Sakura's route, so Dark Sakura is a major player with it, heavily inspired by Stay Night's Mind of Steel ending.
>In this timeline, Dreadkuno loses their servant, most likely to Dark Sakura, and is in full desperation mode to try and win the grail before Amnesia Syndrome ends their life through any means, at this point, Dreadkuno is so sickly looking, they could be mistaken for a walking corpse.
>Eventually, they stumble into Kirei, who is in full "Angra is gonna awaken and I really want to see people suffer" mode and decides to mock Dreadkuno for basically risking their life in a war and killing people all for it to end up pointless.
>Through his taunting, Kirei mentions his artifical black heart and direct link to Angra Mainyu, breifly mentioning that Dreadkuno COULD have survived if she only gave into Angra's whims. Then, Dreadkuno gets a very horrific idea.
>They ambush Kirei, who is under the assumption Dreadkuno is too weak to harm him and eventually rip out his black heart to consume it in an attempt to connect to Angra solely to survive. It sort of works, but not fully. Angra tells Dreadkuno they'd need to assimilate with him properly, but to do that, they'd need to consume the heart of the person who is destined to merge with Angra already; Sakura.
>So after this point Dreadkuno is in complete survival mode. Pushing aside any opposition, even going so far as to throw off Rin, Shirou and Medusa so they can get to Sakura first.
>At some point they suceed in reaching her before the others after sneaking past Salter who is occupied with Shirou and Medusa, a fight breaks out between them and Sakura, and Dreadkuno eventually wins with the help of Erosion, and a replicated Excalibur of their own.
>The real depressing point is that I think Sakura here would come to her senses, but it would be too late as Dreadkuno has gone past the point of return, even if they hate themselves for it. But the fear of death is too strong.
>The deed is done, and they essentially become a Dark Hakuno, I picture them still looking borderline zombified with a pale complexion and cold skin, but they would no longer be slowly dying.
>The major physical difference comes in the fact that Dreadkuno's sclera turn completely black, pupils now glow yellow, and black grail mud leaks from their eyes like tears, and potentially their mouth when stressed.
>Shit only gets worse from here. Shirou eventually makes it to the scene, but he's too late. Another fight breaks out which here would replace Shirou's fist fight with Kirei in Heaven's Feel proper.
>Shirou sadly dies trying to defeat with majorly mana boosted Dreadkuno, and Angra awakens.
>Angra, as you'd expect, decimates Fuyuki, and most likely the rest of the world in time after he awakens, all humans in Fuyuki disappear and the remaining servants become blackened.
>All that's left now is a corrupted Dreadkuno, Salter, who's servant contract had been passed to Dreadkuno after Sakura's death, and Angra Mainyu, All the World's Evils, now teasing Dreadkuno for their choice. They survived, and will live for a very long time, at the cost of everything and everyone else.
CHALDEA AU PORTION
Ok so this is where the crazy, potentially non-canon stuff starts
>In this concept, the remnants of Dread's Fuyuki is in reality, SIngularity F. The Singularity as FGO's story goes on eventually morphs into a Lostbelt with Angra as the King and Dreadkuno the Crypter
>Cue the proper events of SIngularity F in FGO's storyline. Nothing really changes, except for Ritsuka feeling as if they, Mash and Olga are being watched.
>After Chaldea *supposedly* destroys the Singularity after Salter is defeated and Olga dies, Dreadkuno swoops in and saves Salter at the last second, watching Olga's death and being genuinely freaked out.
>This is where eventually the Alien God stuff would start, the Alien God offers Dreadkuno a chance to reverse their horrible mistake in destroying their timeline if they agree with helping the Alien God descend, and Dreadkuno accepts. Of course, Dreadkuno is more or less a double agent, planning to betray the Alien God's forces once she finds an alternate way to save Fuyuki, her loved ones, and destroy Angra through dimensional travel.
>She entrusts guarding Fuyuki to Salter, re-equips her Morgause disguise, and heads off.
>Her primary mission from the Alien God is to more directly assist Chaldea from behind the scenes in dismantling Goetia's Incineration plan, so she'd randomly show up throughout the Singularities briefly, until having a more direct presence in Camelot.
>She'd claim to be Morgan Le Fay and act as a cheeky guide towards Chaldea, very much confusing Bedivere in the process. She'd avoid Lancelot like the plague but would help in the final battle by facing off against Mordred.
>She would only be implied to be present in Babylonia, not only wanting to avoid Gil and Merlin, but as well as getting freaked out by Ishtar and running away. Dreadkuno would also have small roles in Shimousa and Salem, still giving Ritsuka cryptic hints about the future.
>Cue the Lostbelt arc, where she appears in the prologue alongside Kirei and Koyan, shocking Chaldea because their strange friend was really only using them to stop Goetia. However, throughout the Lostbelt up to LB6, Dreadkuno would never be directly hostile towards Chaldea. She'd fight them occasionally but would always give the excuse that she got bored and leave, but not before giving Ritsuka another cryptic hint on how to handle the various Lostbelts.
>Lostbelt 6 is where she'd actually become hostile, Basically the whole story for her in LB6 is that she was originally sent with Muramasa to kill Morgan as Britain was a threat to the Alien God. Since she's already a double agent, she defects to Morgan's side and ends up getting attached to her and Baobhan Sith. Eventually she gets shot back in time with Mash, becomes Tonelico's companion, and dedicates her time there to seeing Morgan's wish to fruition as the British Lostbelt wouldn't affect her world of Fuyuki, only Chaldea's. So, as she's fending off Chaldea's forces and protecting Camelot, her mask is destroyed and true messed up borderline dead face is revealed. Then when Morgan is killed, she just decides fuck it this world isn't worth saving if Morgan isn't here to rule it, basically killing every fairy in the throne room once she makes it there. The Lostbelt fairies are so bad that she becomes absolutely disgusted by them, realizing that even after Morgan's rule, they're still as bad as humans.
>She assists Chaldea from that point on, joining them fully. I imagine after Knocknarea dies and Chaldea plans to escape is when she confronts them, looking absolutely defeated.
>From then on LB6 goes on as usual, Dreadkuno follows Chaldea to Avalon, helps defeat the Calamitys, fights Cernunnos with a heartfelt goodbye to Baobhan Sith afterwards, and then wants to murder Oberon after learning he is kinda sorta Vortigern. I also think in this AU, Dreadkuno is the one to kill Beryl as she HATES him. Probably also offed Douman in Heian Kyo prior.
>She convinces Chaldea to let her stay by offering help to defeat Koyan in Tunguska, follows to Traum, begrudgingly befriends Charlemagne, and finally, gets constantly roasted in LB7 because Kingprotea thinks she is Moon Cell Hakuno, has another heart attack seeing Ereshkigal, and gets scared shitless trying to deal with ORT and a friendly U-Olga Marie. She'd def help with the Rhongomyniad Cannon Chaldea used to kill ORT.
>And that's mainly the Chaldea AU so far. For some minor stuff though: She wouldn't have any real presence in Ordeal Call 1 for obvious reasons, would get credited by Ritsuka in helping save Draco in Lilim Harlot, much to her confusion (because it was actually Moon Hakuno of course), and would end up Morgan's right-hand man in the Summer Festival.
>A time would come where Chaldea ventures back to Singularity F and Dreadkuno would unfortunately return to being an antagonist to fulfill her original plan. Lostbelt King Ahriman Angra would be pretty sick to be honest.
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I desperately want to rant about my Pokémon AU but don't know where to start lmao so my ask box is open
Here's the general premise
Some stuff I've already discussed (yeah it's almost all Hop and Leon, shut up):
There are people known as Mythic Chosen. They're, well, chosen by Mythical Pokémon for various reasons and are destined for greatness and great responsibility.
Leon raised Hop and thus they end up reimagining their relationship as father-son. Leon later has a daughter and her and Hop see each other as siblings, Hop has a son and sees Leon as his grandfather, etc.
Hop is polyamorous and ends up with two OCs, the champion of Alola and his student/employee, as well as Bede and Arven.
The Callaghan family (Hop, Leon, their dad, their sister, their brother) is a psychic family from Ireland. All psychics get their powers from a Pokémon in their bloodline, and the magnitude of the powers is based on the Pokémon in question. The Pokémon they get their powers from is Cresselia.
When Eternatus was captured by Victor, he transferred his consciousness into Leon through his open wound and Dynamax Energy after attacking him before. Leon is now the host of Eternatus, who possesses him whenever Leon has panic attacks that relate to Hop being in danger. Eternatus eats people and it slowly lets him regain his mind and cognitive function beyond killing and maiming.
Hop has DID and has 9 other alters. I haven't talked about it but two of Hop's other partners (the OCs) both have OSDD.
Leon has Walking Corpse Syndrome. Whenever he's depressed, he's nihilistic and thinks he is a dead man after being "killed" by Eternatus, being strung along in an infinite cycle of life and death.
Hop and Leon don't go to Area Zero with Arven and the rest of the group because Hop is in a wheelchair. So, Hop leaves Dubwool with Arven. As Dubwool stays out of his pokéball at all times, his pokéball wasn't locked and Arven fought his parents alongside Koraidon and Miraidon with Dubwool.
There is a power system centered around the concept of Willpower. It can manifest in a Bond, where your Pokémon gains a bunch of buffs or changes significantly. Or a Domain, where the world around them or the other Pokémon change significantly.
Some significant OCs:
Astrid Grey, the daughter of Akito Grey, the founder of Rotom Co. A freshly ten year old girl who admired Pokémon trainers and wanted to be the Unovan Champion. Everyone in the group follows her during her journey to keep her safe in Unova's weather. She might be chosen for something greater, however...
Skylar Valks -> Toby Valks, the Champion of Alola and a Mythic Chosen. She was chosen by Zeraora. Her mother, Kazarah, was previously chosen by Zeraora before moving down the bloodline to Skylar when it was time for her personal journey. She comes out as a transgender male during the story, and Hop starts thinking about him very differently immediately following it. Him and Hop had chemistry that Hop never picked up on because he is gay. But when Toby comes out, Hop picks up on it and panics around him. Hop doesn't know how it happened, considering he hates the league and mega evolution and Toby clearly participates in both.
Miles Flynn, Hop's student and employee. Miles is a transfer student from the Mesagoza Academy, Uva House. His father is Raifort's older brother, and he was bullied severely for being the nephew of a teacher found to be weird. He has a cousin, Levy, whose mother is the sister of Raifort. Miles' parents moved out to Galar to finish Miles' education as Mesagoza Academy is insanely expensive. Miles became an intern at Hop's lab, and later became his protegé. He was severely neglected by his parents, and thus was very codependent with Hop. He goes through a personal arc of realizing that he is an independent adult and that his relationship with Hop must be mutually beneficial, and that he can't leech off him for everything. He is chosen by Koraidon.
Violet Spark, child of the Spark fashion company, one of the most famous and rich people alive, and a Mythic Chosen. She was chosen by Hoopa. She used to attend the Mesagoza Academy in the Uva House, and has a close family member named Scarlet who was in the Naranja House. She's a prissy and self-important business woman, for good reason. She's an extremely powerful trainer, but she's arrogant to a fault. The Unovan cold is taking a huge toll on her, now violently ill from the temperature, and thus is desperate to resolve it. She is a Paldean Champion.
Dark, a mysterious thirteen year old boy whose real name is unknown. He joins the group after defeating Astrid in a Pokémon battle with his oversized Steenee. However, he seems extremely nervous around Violet, who is determined to figure out what his deal is. He doesn't know that an external force is searching for him.
Levy Loranto, the cousin of Miles and best friend to Violet. She attended the Mesagoza Academy in the Uva House. She has an air of intrigue around her, a legend if you will. She moved to Galar later in life, however, her and Miles weren't in contact for years. Miles didn't even know she moved until Violet mentioned her. Both Miles and Levy didn't go outside enough to meet each other. But in the Galar Arc, they reconnect as cousins again.
Damien Walten, a mutual childhood friend of Leon and Hop. He met Leon first as he was struggling to catch a Wooloo for Hop. At the time, Leon was 9, Damien was 6, and Hop was 3. Damien distracted the Wooloo with grains and allowed for Leon to catch him. Damien was Leon's only friend as a child, as Leon was stuck between raising Hop and champion duties. As Leon became more and more busy, he entrusted Hop to Damien. Then, Hop and Damien became the closest of friends for many years. When Hop ran away from Postwick, he blocked everyone's numbers, including Damien. Damien moved to Ballonlea afterwards as Postwick has nothing to offer him. He maintains a relatively normal friendship with the rest of the Galar 5. He is chosen by Miraidon.
Rory Callaghan, the father of Hop and Leon. He abused them both severely before suddenly moving away to Kalos when they were 7 and 13 respectively. He was forced to move away by his mistress, who said she'd make him famous again after a child acting career failed to drugs. When the group comes to Kalos, he plays nice, but he knows that Leon and Hop won't budge. He wants his control back over his life, and thus tries to force his sons back into his life to maintain his old "perfect" life. He later is fused with an Annihilape and gains its powers combined with his pre-existing psychic prowess.
Jamie Callaghan, the estranged sister of Hop and Leon. She was neglected severely by Rory due to being seen as a mistake and collateral. She has a half sister (on mother's side) who she looked up to that died in a horrible accident. She named herself after her in remembrance. She's a very physically strong woman, 6'6 and able to wrestle with Machamps and win by a long shot. However, she's the only Callaghan to never manifest psychic powers. And it's unsure as to why...
The cast in Unova starts as Astrid, Skylar, Kazarah, Hop, Leon, Violet, and Dark. Bede joins the group in Unova as he was doing a fundraiser to save Glimwood Tangle there.
The cast in Galar adds Levy and Damien.
The cast in Kalos adds Jamie.
The cast in Paldea adds Arven.
And even more... Stay tuned...
#long post#pokemon au#pokémon au#pokemon#pokémon#rambles with miles#Pokemon Unown Legends Tale#au#leon pokemon#hop pokemon#bede pokemon#arven pokemon#pokemon oc#oc#timeskip#pokemon black and white#pokemon sword and shield#pokemon xy#pokemon scarlet and violet#asks open
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This is me asking you to explain the lore of Norwegian metal to us because after your Eddie AU and ur last post im intrigued.
ANON BECAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR BECAUSE I LOOOOOOVE EXPLAINING THINGS...... but this is just an abridged version of events... but i figure context will also help with the au! this is essentially just how black metal "took off" and became what it is today .... also my heart is so full over the fact someone asked LMAO
warning: under the cut will contain mentions of self-harm, suicide and, murder.
underlined sections just contain links to pictures i thought would help visualize the story better! they're all tumblr links so they shouldn't take you out of the app/site
okay so the story goes way back to the early 80s in sweden actually, (i promise this context is needed- sorry this story may seem a little far off at the moment) essentially it "all starts" when Per Yngve Ohlin (also known as 'Pelle') at the age of 10 is beat up so severely by bullies his spleen is ruptured which causes internal bleeding and he's taken to the hospital. while in hospital, he's pronounced clinically dead for a period of time before doctors are ultimately able to save his life.
But after this incident, Pelle was never the same. He soon after developed a deeply morbid fascination with death. He'd later describe later on in his life instances where he essentially believed he was a corpse. leading many to believe he actually had developed cotards syndrome- which is a very rare disorder where the sufferer believes that they are already dead and are essentially a walking corpse.
well, due to the bullying Pelle had to change schools, and he later met a group of people he shared common music interests in and they formed a death metal band called Morbid. the band never really went anywhere as it was essentially a "high school band" as Pelle would later describe it, but it did kickstart Pelle's music career and the musical identity he would soon develop. it was in this band where he began to do "corpse paint" which is probably the one thing MOST synonymous with the aesthetic of black metal. and while there are many potential influences on corpse paint, Pelle is credited with creating corpse paint as it is known in the scene today. (you can see Pelle's paint and his old band morbid here, he's the one with crimped hair and thick black makeup around his eyes!)
Well- Morbid never went anywhere, and Pelle began to take interest in even darker music having become unsatified by death metal having become overtaken by "posers" and through this interest found out the black metal band Mayhem in norway was in need of a new vocalist after the vocalist that did their first EP left- so he sent in a demo tape, and whaddya know! he got the job. so in 1988 at just 19 years old Pelle Ohlin packed his bags and moved to norway to begin his career as the new vocalist for Mayhem. by the point that Pelle had joined the band Mayhem was not the massive infamous name it is in metal today, they were simply a local band made up of a bunch of teenagers and they had one EP out called Deathcrush. and perhaps one of the most infamous names in all of metal is the "leader" of the band at this time, and that is guitarist Øystein Aarseth, better known as 'Euronymous' (pictured in the red sweater in the middle)
seemingly, Pelle was a good match for Mayhem. Pelle's facination with the macabre and death paired perfect with Mayhem's proposed dark image and they began to work on songs together and Pelle is perhaps responsible for writing some of Mayhem's most famous songs. and during this era, Euronymous would create a guitar tone that would forever influence the sound of black metal to this very day.
though while on the outside this partnership seemed like a good thing- behind the scenes things weren't great. things were moving slowly with the band, they weren't recording, and they had a lot of problems with booking shows. essentially, not much was going on with Mayhem.
though- they were able to score some shows during this time. and this is where the image of Mayhem as we know them today really begins. the band would dress up in corpse paint (most notably Pelle and Euronymous) and perform truly intense stage shows. Pelle was known to cut himself on stage and let his blood drip onto the crowd, and they would also throw pigs heads they had bought into the crowd in order to "weed out the posers" (pictures from one show can be seen here they're not graphic but you can see a small smidge of blood on Pelle's hand in the 8th picture, and a fan holding one of the pigheads in the 3rd)
and while all of this madness seemed like an image just to be "edgy" or "hardcore" ... mayhem took themselves VERY seriously. they lived this lifestyle. and especially to one Pelle Ohlin, this was not just an image. you see.. the way Pelle lived his life on stage was very true to how he felt as a person. as mentioned prior, Pelle's near-death experience as a child lead him to have morbid fascinations and even, perhaps believe he was truly dead. and this would eventually lead him to earn the stage name 'Dead' - he would dress up in corpse paint, bury his clothes before shows so they would rot, and even asked to be buried in a coffin himself in order to "get death fungus under his eyes" (his brother's words, not mine)- he would smell a dead crow before going on stage to perform "with the scent of death in his nose", he starved himself to make him look more dead and pale, and he had severe self-harming tendencies. by all accounts, pelle was incredibly depressed, suicidal, and FASCINATED with death.
and all of this, combined with the incredibly poor treatment he recieved at the hands of Euronymous who had taken advantage of his suicidal ideations and constantly bullied him into going through with it. and, on april 8th, 1991, Pelle would attempt suicide by self-exsanguination. though given the temperatures of norway, his blood froze, and he was not able to bleed himself out. due to this, Pelle would eventually grab Euronymous's shotgun and shoot himself once in the forehead, ultimately, ending his life at merely 22 years old.
Euronymous would soon come home to the house they shared together and stumble upon Pelle's dead body. but instead of calling the police right away, Euro would leave the house, drive 20 minutes out to a store and buy a disposable camera where he would then come back home, and pose Pelle's body in various positions and taking pictures of his "friend's" corpse. and THIS is essentially THE catalyst for the rest of the tragic story of norwegian black metal.
the pictures would eventually be developed, and euronymous would also collect fragments of Pelle's skull and make necklaces for his inner circle of friends using the bones. understandably, and as edgy as norwegian black metallers were at the time... a lot of people were disgusted by euro's reaction to pelle's suicide. and bassist 'necrobutcher' was so appalled by euro's behavior he'd left the band. euronymous then promised to destroy the pictures- but he did not, he kept them hidden in his record store, and mailed some to a pen pal of his. this pen pal would then go on to use one of the pictures for an album cover of a bootleg live album called Dawn of The Black Hearts (released in 1995 it is a recording of a 1990 performance Mayhem did in Sarpsborg, Norway) the band HAS condemned the usage of pelle's post-mortem photos on this album cover. while unfortunately easily found on the internet, i do not encourage anyone to look at the album cover, while it is somewhat difficult to make out it is definitely very gore-y given the violent nature of pelle's death- and both Mayhem and Pelle's family do not want that picture spread on the internet any further- which is why i will not be linking it, and advise you not to seek it out yourself.
with no bassist and no vocalist, euronymous decided to take on other ventures such as his record shop Helvete (norwegian for hell). (more pictures here)it was here that the story of how black metal got its satanic and evil image began. in the basement of helvete. euronymous began what he called "the black circle" and it was essentially just a bunch of late teenage- early 20 edgelord musicians trying to "out edgy" each other.
during this time, euronymous was also in contact with varg vikernes, soul member of burzum. and, ill be honest, i cant stay objective right now. FUCK pretty much everyone in this story BUT MOST OF ALL... i cannot stress this enough FUCK VARG VIKERNES. okay... i wont apologize i just had to get that out. most of the people in this story are disgusting, but varg is truly god awful bigoted facist scum. fuck that man. and fuck his stupid shitty band.
BUT... euronymous enjoyed varg's work so much he decided to sign burzum to his record label 'deathlike silence' and also make varg the bassist for mayhem. euro would also get a new vocalist for mayhem, and they'd begin recording their first LP, Dom Mysteriis Dom Sathanas (i spelt that right first try, go me!)
so... while this is going on as i mentioned ... the whole "black circle" is essentially trying to out-edgy each other, and varg essentially decides to take the cake for this one and burns down a church. it's presumed to be multiple, actually, and varg wants everyone to know that these church burnings are a result of black metal, and black metal's protests against christianity. simultaneously, faust, another black circle member- from the black metal band Emperor kills a man. and varg believes everyone should know that this is also a result of black metal. and on the outside, euronymous is encouraging all of this... he wants black metal to have this notorious name and he wants it to be a dangerous art, he doesnt want new comers , he doesnt want fame, or glory, he wants to keep black metal "sacred".
but varg decides to go to the press and confess under the guise of anonimity that these crimes are a result of black metal-ers in the area. AND THUS... this interview is where we now get the association of black metal and all things evil and satanic on a widespread scale. but since varg is the biggest fucking idiot on the planet AND DECIDED TO DO AN INTERVIEW WITH THE PRESS ABOUT CRIMES HE COMMITTED he was arrested, but - essentially the norwegian authorities didnt have enough on him to actually tie him to the church burnings... so he was not convicted and subsequently released.
but with this negative press on black metal, the norwegian scene now has more eyes on them and this SCARES THE HELL out of euronymous. who closes helvete in 1993 because he doesnt want to be implicated in any of this. so, now euronymous is pissed at varg because he "ruined" everything for everyone by going round to the press. and varg is pissed at euro... because varg hasn't seen any of the money from the burzum albums that were released on euro's lable.
so, tension begins to arise between the two friends... and apparently... allegedly, euronymous makes a threat that he wants to kill varg and make a snuff film out of it.
this info gets back to varg. who... upon reciving a contract from euronymous, transferring the rights of burzum's music from deathlike silence to varg- he decides to travel the six hours from where he lives in bergen norway, to euronymous's flat in oslo norway to "sign the contract"
but, in reality, varg had no interest in signing said contract, and instead, when he went over euronymous's house that night in august 1993, he would stab euronynous killing him.
varg was quickly linked to the crime, and unsuccessfully pleaded self defense (in reaction to the snuff film threat) - but, literally no one drives six hours from their home to someone elses home and stabs them as many times as he did in self defense. varg was since convicted and served 21 years in prison (norway's max sentence)
this coverage, due to the extreme nature of euronymous's murder is what made black metal go GLOBAL no longer a scene with small little subsections in small areas of the globe, it became an internationally recognized and huge metal genre just as death metal did before- something ironically- the black circle had been fighting against the whole time.
necrobutcher eventually rejoined mayhem and they're a pretty normal band now... they tour the world and do like normal interviews. they have a decent amount of monthly spotify listeners and have released music as recently as 2019. varg is out of prison and lives in the woods of france with his wife and 8 children and creates table top role playing games. he also used to upload youtube videos where he would spew just the most outright stupid fucking disgusting hateful alt-right garbage (i reiterate, FUCK BURZUM AND VARG VIKERNES. SERIOUSLY) and he's also been arrested multiple times since being released for euro's murder.
and while euronymous is credited for creating "true norwegian black metal" his death was actually a huge relief in the scene and wasn't exactly mourned. i know movies like Lords of Chaos paint euronymous out to be a super innocent dude but... he was also an incredibly disgusting person. just about nobody in this story is "innocent" and they should not be romanticized!!
but... that is pretty much where the story ends
and to anyone who read all the way through.... hiii thanks for listening to my spiel!
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omg could you do a dark villain Shoto x fem reader smut?
NSFW 18+ The Pawn— AU Villian! Shoto Todoroki x Fem! Reader
Warning: 18+ content. Unprotected sexual intercourse, alternate universe, toxic relationship, stolkholm syndrome, fluff, angst, gaslighting, manipulation, kidnapping, murder of family, punishment, bdsm, power play, yandere tendencies, etc.
Words: 2,410
Check out my other works here
A/N: Thank you so much for your request! I am so sorry it took me forever to do it. But I hope it meets what you’re looking for. This is my first time writing for Shoto so I apologize in advance.
Tags: @awilddreamerwrites @peachsenpie @milkthistletea @quietlegends @idfkwtfgof
“Any last words?” Shoto questions with a demeaning scowl of disgust, his index finger becoming restless on the pistol’s trigger. The barrel of the gun is resting on the man’s temple while he pleads for mercy.
“I’ll have your money by next week, I swear!” The man cried.
“You said that last time. To be quite frank, I’m not really fond of your lying, Y/L/N.” Shoto admits, cocking the gun so it can fire. The terrified man’s eyes grew wide as tears stream down his face.
“Shoto,” his breath hitches, “p-please. I have a family to take care of. A wife and two children. Please.”
Horrific muffled screams filled the kitchen where your family reside as the gunshot went off. Blood leaked from your father’s bullet wound onto the floor beneath him. You all were forced to watch, tied up and helpless. Shoto even had his crew gag you so your words would not disturb his business meeting. He hates interruptions.
“Disgusting.” Shoto complains, referencing to some of the blood covering his face. Igniting his left side, he sets your father’s corpse on fire. The smell of burning flesh filled your snot filled nostrils as more whimpers escaped your cloth covered lips. This caught Shoto’s attention.
“You,” he calls out as he makes his way towards your tied up body. He picks you up with ease, throwing you over his muscular shoulder. “Are coming with me.”
Your muffled remarks were no use as well as your kicks. You are terrified and not sure why Shoto, Japan’s notorious killer, is doing in your household right now, but you know it’s not good.
“Sir,” one of the men stopped you two as Shoto is making his way towards the exit. He pauses his motion, waiting for the man’s question. “What do you want us to do with the other two? Heroes will be here any moment.”
Shoto pondered the man’s words for a moment. You are silently pleading that he will just let them go, but that was not even a thought in his mind. “Leave them be.”
“But sir—“
“The house will be burnt to ash in any given moment,” he activates his left side for emphasis, “if you want to stay alive, I suggest you gather up the others and get a move on.”
The man nodded and Shoto begins walking out of the house. You struggle in his grasp, but Shoto remains undisturbed by your antics. Throwing you into the back of a van, he slams the double doors. Now all you are left with is your thoughts.
This doesn’t seem real. It truly can’t be. Your family is being massacred and there is not a thing you can do about it. You can even hear their muzzled screams as your house goes up in flames. Still, you are useless as the van starts and drives far away from the crime scene.
Shoto Todoroki is Japan’s worse nightmare. Numerous accounts of murder, abuse of power, kidnapping, anything terrible had Shoto’s name on it. No one knows much about the villain’s personal life except for his heroic father with a bad temper. Some say it is his fault for the way his son turned out and Shoto would agree, but Shoto’s crimes will not be taken from him. No, they are all his doing and he is proud of it.
“Y/N,” Shoto called, making you snap out of your thoughts. You turn to meet the man that now claims you as his. “Are you alright, love? You hardly touched your food.”
“Oh, I’m fine.” You mumbled, giving a soft smile. Bringing the ramen noodle soup to your lips, you forced yourself to eat the food. Your stomach is in shambles as the thoughts from that night came back. There are still many unanswered questions and unknown puzzle pieces, but that is a life you need to forget about. You are Shoto’s now. You have no choice but to be his.
Shoto studied your features. If there is one thing Shoto is not is dumb. He is observant. Just one wrong look and you are in deep trouble. Considering you have been living with Shoto for over a year now, you have grown accustomed to his ways. You have learned to appease him in anyway to make you happy. Especially if it is going to keep you alive.
“You know I don’t appreciate when you lie to me.” Shoto nonchalantly reminds you, noticing how quickly you swallow when the words flow out off his tongue.
“I-I’m not lying, Shoto. Honestly.” You stammered, hoping he would not notice the fear trickling in your eyes. He did, though. Shoto noticed everything about you. One of the many things you despised about him.
The rest of super was ate in silence. As you have learned, this is never a good sign. When Shoto is quiet, he’s plotting. Usually, it’s your punishment. You can see it in his eyes and the subtle touches he does to you. All to make you feel uneasy. Just like he can read you, you are learning to read him just the same.
Once dinner was over, he gathered the dirty dinning wear and washed them. You remained in your chair until you are granted permission to stand up. Your heart is racing with anticipation. What is Shoto plotting? Especially for something as simple as lying.
“Y/N,” Shoto paused to make sure your attention was his. The hairs on the back of your neck are standing straight along with your body stiffening. You hear him walking towards you, his one cold hand and other warm one rest on your shoulders. “Go upstairs to our shared bedroom.”
“Y-Yes, Shoto.” You mumbled, scurrying up the steps like the good behave girl he taught you to be. If only your filthy little mouth could stop lying.
Shoto is quick to follow after your trembling body. His presence is swallowing you whole as he march up the stairs behind you. Your clammy palm turns the golden doorknob into the master bedroom. You immediately turn around, groping your butt in fear for what may happen to it.
Shoto shuts the door behind him, leaning against it with his arms folded. His face held its usual unamused look as he glares at you.
“I’m giving you one last chance to be honest with me, Y/N.”
“I-I have been honest a-all along, Shoto.” You argued. Shoto’s glare intensified.
“You were thinking about your family again, weren’t you?”
“What? No, I-“
“You’re just like your father.” Shoto scornfully chuckled, strolling towards you. His right hand folded around your neck, giving it a nice squeeze as he whispered in your ear, “and you know how much I truly despise your father.”
His hot breath seemed to linger on the shell of your ear. Your eyes harden as they meet his. His icy hand seemed to make this choking experience even worse. You would get frostbite if it gets any colder, but something in you snapped. You have not fought back in months. You became the submissive girl Shoto desperately wanted you to be yet you are still in the same position as many times before.
“You’re one to talk.” You choked out. The hold on your neck became stronger, circulation being lost to your organs. You are pushed onto the bed, Shoto’s muscular form on top of you.
“Don’t you ever compare me to that monster again, understand me?” Shoto growls as he watch you struggle beneath him. You started to turn pale as your body loses its natural color from lack of air flow. His hatred from his father and yours is taking over as you slowly start to become unconscious. He finally lets go.
You cough, grasping for air. It felt like there was not enough in there to supply your deprived body. Especially with Shoto’s suffocating presence on top of you.
“You have some real nerve talking to me like that, Y/N. When will you learn that your family is the true bad guys in the situation, not me. They screwed me over and I came for what they owed me. You’re just a pawn.”
“You’re lying..” You mumbled out in disbelief. Shoto’s devious grin just grew wider at the tears in your eyes.
“I’m not like your father.” Shoto spats, venom dripping from every wretched word. Your heart is aching and this only fuels the fire.
“Fuck you.” You hissed, warm tears streaming down your face. Shoto only chuckled at your mere offense.
“I plan on it.”
Your look of disgust was ignored as Shoto’s lips trailed from your neck to your lips. You forced yourself to kiss back. You always do. You two had sex plenty of times and sadly, you enjoyed it, but when it’s used for punishment or after he has tears down any sheer ounce of self esteem you possessed it is quite difficult to get in the mood.
“Why do you keep me here?” You finally breathe out as your lips disconnect. Shoto furrowed his eyebrows together.
“Because your family is dead.”
“I know that!” You exclaimed. Shoto is very intelligent, but someone who is also literal. He does not always catch onto what you’re actually trying to ask. “I mean, if I’m just some pawn, why keep me here? Why not let me have the same fate as my family?”
Shoto stayed silent. He pondered how he should answer this. He just started touching you outside of the bedroom a couple months ago. It even took him a long time to have sexual intercourse with you. He knows he could have killed you off. He is sure of it. You have been a pain in his ass since he collected you for payment yet you’re still here.
“I don’t know.” Shoto answered, truthfully.
You sigh. You are not sure what answer you were expecting, but knowing where this is leading does not make you feel any better about yourself. You just feel more used.
Silence over fell you two. Shoto is in deep thought as so are you. You are worried that your days are numbered now, but Shoto was not even thinking about that. He is more thinking of himself and how he can’t murder you. He actually likes having you around. He may never say it and his facial features will never show it, but with you by his side, his frozen heart starts to thaw. Just by your simple glimpses and touches.
Part of him hated you for that.
“Shoto,” you whisper, catching his attention. You made yourself look away. You have so many conflicting thoughts. Shoto is all you have now and in all honesty, you have grown not to hate the guy. You love the soft touches and the way he keeps you warm at night. He is so observant of the slightest of things. That’s more than your family has ever given you.
Your right hand cupped his cheek. He seemed slightly tense by the action, but he instantly fell into your touch. Your thumb grazed his cheek.
“I-I,” you meet his gaze, “I enjoy your company.” You admit. Shoto kept silent, but your words meant something to him. You both are not good with this kind of stuff. You were never taught it. This is the closest thing you two will ever get to ‘I love you.’
Your lips connected once again. During the process, each one of your articles of clothing was discarded to the ground below. Shoto kissed down your exposed breast, stomach, and finally stopped at your pussy. He swiped his tongue between your folds sending chills down your spine along with needy moans escaping your parted lips.
“Shoto, please.“ You whined, wanting him to make you soaked already, but you are on Shoto’s terms. He gets to decide everything.
Luckily, he did not make you wait long as tongue swirled on your sensitive clit. Your legs rested on his shoulders as he devoured you. Small groans is all Shoto could do as his tongue explored every inch of your pussy. Not a spot was missed nor would he allow there to be. Your clit was being the most spoiled. Your entrance was then meet shortly after. You did your best to conceal your sweet melodies of pleasure, but Shoto is not allowing you to do so.
“You have a voice for a reason. Use it.” He orders in a low growl amongst your cunt.
“Shoto,” you sob, “I’m about to cum. Please.”
You arched your back as your cunt was about to release. Shoto sped up the pace, helping you meet your climax even sooner. On que, you sing sweet little melodies of moans as you release into the man’s mouth. Every drop was swallowed by him.
Shoto stood up, grabbing your hips to pull you closer to the edge of the bed. “Keep your eyes on me at all times. Understood?”
You nod, eagerly. “Yes, Shoto.”
Shoto aligned his erection with your weeping entrance. Shortly after, your walls are hugging his length as it dives deeper and deeper into you. Each thrust loosened you even more and he kept a steady pace. You gripped the expensive European satin bedsheets as you babbled incoherent words and phrases. You kept your eyes locked on Shoto the whole time just like he ordered.
“Shoto.” You finally moan aloud as his dick is inside of you.
“Yeah, you like that, baby?” He groans. Your crying cunt was dripping with your slick onto the fabric of the bed and on Shoto’s cock.
“Yes.” You manage to blurt out as you gasp for more. His cock felt amazing no matter how much you wanted to hate him for it. This is one of the ways he shows affection. You learned to accept that.
Shoto’s hands find their way to your bouncing titties. The difference between temperatures sent your body into overdrive. He loved seeing the lewd faces you make as he used his power to pleasure you. Shoto’s dick did not stop thrusting into you through this process either though it is twitching.
Pre-cum leaks into your cunt. Shoto removes his hands from your breast as he picks up the pace. His knees start to buckle beneath him as cum flows from his cock. Every drop is milked from him until he pulls outs.
This is his way of saying ‘I love you.’
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#mha shoto#bratx writes#bakugosbratx#shoto todoroki#bnha shoto#bnha todoroki#todoroki shouto#todoroki shōto#shoto x y/n#shoto x you#shoto x reader#shoto smau#shoto smut#todoroki smut#shouto x y/n#mha shouto#shouto x reader#yandere my hero academia#yandere shoto todoroki#yandere shouto
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how the light gets in {Corpse Husband}
2. you’ve gone way too fast for way too long.
Summary: Supernatural Creatures AU. Them/Them Reader. After the success of your first stream, you find yourself wanting to get back to your YouTube roots, and what better way to do that than with a cover by one of the bands who holds a special place in your heart? And maybe you’re using it to distract yourself from thinking about how coming back to YouTube means coming back to the things - the people - you’d left behind.
Maybe it’s selfish, but Corpse kind of wishes you hadn’t come back to YouTube; honestly, if anyone else had taken the world by storm, he wouldn’t complain half as much, except it’s you and he’s still mostly convinced that you might be an angel like him... Except better. Because of course you would be a better angel, you’re talented and driven and personable and essentially everything an angel should be, and - bar the talented bit, Corpse at least knows some of his worth - you’re everything he’s pretty sure he’s not. Except it seems like everyone loves you, and he doesn’t exactly have a good enough reason to be bothered by you the way he is, so he has to act like he isn’t. Which is a lot easier said than done, when you barely say a word to him and it feels like all of his suspicions are confirmed.
A/N: 8471 words. Reader in the fic is stated to be 24. THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH SUPERNATURAL THE TV SERIES. me, trying to walk the line between 3rd person omniscient narrator and trying to make the narration feel like its somewhat coming from the POV character?? it’s more likely than you think! as always, i really appreciate feedback.
{ m a s t e r l i s t }
Taglist: @nanasort @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian @theboywhocriedlupin @taikalinna @jaychirps @bingusmode @divine-artemis @realmejay @lovemelikepercy @balla-deer @miniritzcrackers @loraleiix @ppopty @easygoingtheatre @insanedeathwish @siriuslystupid @losvertown @janiathecat @wineandionysus @moonlightsimp @allylyew @chokingonflxwers @sicnesa @xxniksxx @mishisamess @preciousskye @yashinosakura @meleekabenjamin @whatamievendoinghere01 @lxurxn-02 @liljennyx3 @the-fusionist @benjaminka @lilysdaydreams @a-lonely-bic @letsloveimagines @melmachh @tama-chan-suneater @shio-yuki @fairywriter-oracle @easygoingtheatre @pixelbxtch @dreammoutlouddd @abysshaven @mediocrearistophanes @tsukishimawh0re @inkbyajm @jordiee95 @honkcorpse @kaiihaan @takenbyheartstrings @mrtony-stank1 @dangeroustreebread @xibrokensunriseix @corpseglider @artsyally @ellsbells2143 @machine-gun-casie @marvelsmurphy @bigmac-papi @danielle143 @fivedicksinatrenchcoat @starstruckllamapuppy @youretheonlyonewhomakesme @fee-btheweeb @parkerpeanuts @fanfictionenthusiast @evans-dejong @pancakebinnie @minbunbun @sabrinarahaman @thefangirl05 @jades-bullshit @fo-love @roses-and-grasses @thirstyfangirl @lovelysmp @325575 @wrongcielo @lukathecrime @lunariasilver @delicrieux @rebloogggs @kookiesandtae7 @mizxkii @effielumiere @happyyyandcrazyyy @teenageguitarist @prettylittlealiengirl @aroyalharknessblr @kylie-writes-stuff @annshit @haunteddeputymugpersona
taglist is always open! message me if you’d like to be added xx
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The day after your song drops, it’s on Spotify’s Top 50 Viral playlist, it’s charting on iTunes, it’s splattered across the internet, according to your manager, who sees fit to text you, congratulating you on what she assumed to be a masterful marketing tactic; releasing the song and immediately streaming alongside huge YouTube creators who have a wide and diverse fanbase, all plugging your music. She thinks it was a carefully calculated move, which makes you feel all kinds of scummy, like you were using your new friends. Thankfully, when you fire a somewhat defensive response about how you had no ulterior motive, that all you wanted to do was have fun and make friends, your tone apparently reads loud and clear, as you receive an apology a few moments later. Backtracking, she simply mentions that, even unintentionally, you had great timing, and she’s glad you had a good time, which is better, and you try not to dwell on your initial assumption. Years of your life had been spent worrying that the people you were close to just thought you were using them for views or fame; her words did little to quell that worry, so instead you tried to distract yourself, or at the very least, focus on the good that yesterday had brought about.
The best, of course, was Sykkuno, the hellhound who’d endeared himself to you almost immediately. Something about him makes you feel safe, though perhaps it’s that you’re unused to someone feeling so familiar; you like to think you’re a good judge of character, so for now, you’re trusting in your instincts, trusting in Sykkuno. The next best thing was a tie, between friends and freedom. Yesterday you’d been doing what you wanted to do, not what you thought you should be doing, not what was on brand, or carefully scripted; you were messy, stumbled over your words, and you laughed and deceived your friends as was the aim of the game, it was so freeing to be unfiltered. People kept saying it was nice to see you smile, to hear you laugh again. Huh. Part of you really doesn’t like that you know exactly what they mean, and more importantly, why people are saying that at all. But things are different now, are freer now; your brand was built on you, it’s nice to get back to that.
By mid-morning, you’d been sprawled out on your sofa for almost an hour, glad to be alone, to not have to worry about being seen, as you’ve phased your tail back into reality, and have it holding up your phone as you scroll through Twitter with one hand and fidget idly with the other. More and more you’re seeing supportive comments from people gushing about the few bars you’d sung of 5 Seconds of Summer’s Youngblood on stream yesterday. First your chat had loved it, now it seems the general consensus was that people would love for you to cover more than a few bars. While you tried not to listen too much to what other people wanted, you couldn’t help but admit that it was something you definitely wanted too.
When you text your manager, new idea already taking hold of your focus, your earlier unsavoury text conversation seemingly forgotten, your manager reminds you that you should be working on your new album, putting together the tracklist for your EP. Ugh.
It’s not that you didn’t have ideas, quite the opposite; you’re exploding with ideas, brimming, overflowing with them, for songs you wants to write and feelings you can’t express any other way, but the songs and collaborations you’ve already completed, their mp4 files sitting neatly on your desktop, you wanted to save them for the full album, like it was some sort of penance for getting to collaborate, getting to become friends with people you looked up to, people who inspired you. To you, their contribution was worthy of your full album.
Well, that was part of the reason, the other part was that the songs you had designated for the album had a different vibe to your EP songs; albumtouralbumtour and imposter syndrome had both been written in lockdown, about very specific concerns you were having at the time. The EP was shaping up to capture a very specific moment in time, while the album was so much more than that. You couldn’t put read at five am on the EP, the collaboration you’d done with Troye, a lyrical-lament with a dissonant, upbeat melody, an apology for when you’re the one who cuts off contact with someone you’re close to and don’t know how to say why, and don’t know how to come back; yes, the fact that you and Ethan are talking again means that the song is technically relevant to this period of time, but it’s three years of regret and indirect apology compressed into in three minutes. It’s going on the album.
But being stuck at home all day for months had made you all nostalgic for your roots, for when you’d started uploading all the way back in 2012, at 16, with no idea what a few videos would lead to. You missed covering songs you loved, the songs other people had written and that you had still connected with, the songs that made you want to write your own. Yes, you loved your own content, obviously, but from idea to video publishing, you knew a low-effort cover would take you maximum a day and a half if you were particularly inspired, which you clearly were. By now, you’d been doing this for so long that you knew the legality of it all like the back of your hand, and were in a stable enough place to be more than happy to pay royalties to the band you’d co-headlined alongside for your first international tour.
“What if I call the boys and ask them?” You decided to just call your manager directly, tail curled securely around your phone where you’d put her on speaker, pottering around your kitchen trying to find something to eat. Alison, on the other end of the line, sighed deeply, having been fielding these sorts of calls from you about once a fortnight since lockdown had started.
“Have you finished moment before impact yet?” She countered, and you wrinkle your nose; its as if she can hear the expression through the phone with the way she continues on, not giving you a moment to cut in, “listen, I won’t tell you what to do, but you need to make a decision about your EP tracklist soon, okay? The label’s breathing down my neck, you know you have more than enough songs for it.”
“Alison, the vibes -”
“The vibes, Y/N, I know,” she sighed deeply, but you could hear the faintest smile in her voice.
“I promise I’m working on my own stuff; I think moment before impact is gonna be a collab, but I’m not sure who with yet, but if it makes you happy, once I record this 5SOS thing, I’ll work on a demo of moment for the EP,” you concede, and you hear her hum in approval, “I promise I have all the songs in my head, I just gotta make sense of which ones are the right ones for now, you know?”
“I really don’t,” you could hear her actually smiling now, so you let yourself relax for a moment, hands braced on your kitchen counter as you looked to your phone, “but I suppose that’s why you’re the musical one and I’m the manager.”
“My favourite manager,” you told her sweetly, and her answering laugh is more of a snort.
"Call the band, maybe they can work something out for you regarding royalties, if you plan to monetise it," she suggested, and you hummed, "keep me updated, okay? Make sure you're still working on your own stuff though."
"Alison you're a national treasure," you tell her feelingly; you don't even have to see her to know she's rolling her eyes.
But you take her advice, sending 'what if I covered Youngblood and posted it to YT? I'll pay you royalties' to the mostly dormant WhatsApp group you have with 5 Seconds of Summer, despite it being about six in the morning in Australia. Callum sends back a thumbs up almost immediately. Its all the confirmation you need to get started.
As you’re hunting through your house for a pick, turning over cushions, looking through junk drawers, you hear your phone go off, and you take a moment to check, surprised by what you see. A message from Sean. Huh.
[I see you’ve finally decided to join us in the gaming community, took you long enough 😊 If you ever wanna play something, just gimme a yell, you know Id be glad to have ya on my team.]
Considering the fact that it had been three years since you and Sean had properly been in contact, you find the message both surprising, and strangely heartwarming. There were a few people you’d purposefully fallen out of contact with, plagued by your own fears and self doubts. The people who you’d seen in person almost daily were the ones who you’d felt the absence of the most, but Sean, just by his close association with those people, along with a few other international friends, had been regretfully left behind also. Here and now, you can feel just how much you’ve missed him, how guilty you feel for giving in to your own anxieties and the negativity spewed by others.
But you know you can’t dwell on the past, on your mistakes, all you can do is be grateful for the opportunity to reconnect, and take it.
[ID: A tweet and reply conversation between @yourtwitter and @goldeny/n, followed by a single tweet by @ZeRoyalViking, and a tweet and reply conversation between @yourtwitter, and @5SOS.
@yourtwitter: someone yell at me for doing another cover instead of my original stuff. quarantine got me feeling 17 again. might do the cinnamon challenge next. or finally do that Roast Yourself trend 4 years too late. | @golden_y/n: BRUH YOU BEST NOT BE PULLING OUR LEGS | @golden_y/n: I would empty my bank account to see you roast yourself. | @yourtwitter: Please Don't Do That YouTube Is Free | @golden_y/n: 😳💀💖
@ZeRoyalViking: stream today with some familiar and not so familiar faces!!
@yourtwitter posted an image of Griffin McElroy from the My Brother My Brother & Me TV show. Griffin is a Caucasian man wearing glasses and a blue checked shirt. He is visible from the chest up and is sitting behind a desk with one arm in front of him, with his thumb out, as if counting. The image’s subtitles have been edited, now reading ‘My friends are very much into the following: Bullying me on TikTok.’ | @yourtwitter: @luke5SOS is just mad im gonna sing his song better than him. he doesn’t use twitter anymore so i have the upper hand here. | @5SOS replies with a gif of Jason Momoa, who is incredibly muscular, with dark hair down to his shoulders, a black tank top, and sunglasses on, holding a microphone, standing in a confrontational manner, captioned ‘No, no, no. By all means, speak your mind. You got a problem with my boy?’ | @yourtwitter: HE WENT LIVE UNPROMPTED TO TELL PEOPLE ABOUT HOW I WROTE NOTIMETOSLEEP IN THREE DAYS WITH NO ACTUAL SLEEP, OPENED FOR THEM IN ARIZONA, AND IMMEDIATELY PASSED OUT FOR 16 HOURS AFTER WALKING OFF STAGE | @5SOS: we just miss you tho... and it is kind of funny. | @yourtwitter: the minute im allowed to safely leave lockdown im coming to australia to german supplex the lot of you. ❤️
End ID.]
Corpse’s whole ‘not thinking about you’ plan goes down a lot smoother when you’re not actively stealing his friends- what kind of Angel goes around stealing another person - another Angel’s, no less - friends?! Except, right, he doesn't actually have proof that you're an angel, just a hunch he’s apparently committed to... and, okay, you don't know you're stealing them... Sykkuno and Rae are allowed to have more than one friend. Obviously.
"Honestly, I'm still kind of riding the high from yesterday's stream," Sykkuno’s all kinds of elated in the voice chat, and Rae's quick to chime in, matching his tone, his energy, as she agrees.
"I cannot believe Y/N played with us! I’m sorry you missed it, Corpse, I think you'd love them," Rae is adamant, to which Corpse, from behind the safety of his monitor, makes a face.
"What makes you say that?” Even as he says it, as he tries to keep the negativity from his voice, his nose wrinkles, the expression shifting his eyepatch just a little.
“I don’t know, just something about...” Rae’s voice turns thoughtful as she considers, though Sykkuno takes the chance to pipe up, voice brimming with his trademark sincerity.
“You guys have weirdly similar vibes, like kind of a similar energy?” He tries to explain before a faintly embarrassed laugh escaping him, even with Rae humming in agreement, “not the exact same, obviously, but like, I don’t know, I think you’d really like them.” The problem with having Sykkuno for a friend is that he’s almost always trying to be genuinely kind or helpful. The problem is that Corpse can tell he believes what he’s saying.
An angelic ability that often goes overlooked, even by angels themselves, is the innate ability to tell whether or not someone’s lying. It’s like a faint buzzing, low grade tinnitus, at the sound of a lie, something that can actually be pretty effectively ignored and forgotten, but right now, the lack of buzzing with Sykkuno’s words is frankly irritating. Not that Corpse can say that, he has no real reason to be jealous of your fast forming friendships with his friends, well, not any reason he can admit to on stream.
"You know what,” Sean muses, finally joining the conversation, “It’s been a while since I properly spoke to them, but I totally get what you mean,” fucking great; of course he agrees, “did anyone invite them to play; would love to have them here if they’re up for it.”
"I think they're working on a thing today, but I can message and ask?" It’s Sykkuno who speaks up, the barest hesitation in his voice, and to that Rae makes a proud little noise in the back of her throat.
"You met yesterday on the stream that I organised, and suddenly you're all best buddies? Gonna be honest, I’m a little jealous,” she admits, to which Sykkuno huffs a soft laugh, uncertain of what to say, though Rae’s tone is fond and she continues on, “seriously though, good for you, dude, finally getting the recognition you deserve -"
And on the one hand, yes, Corpse would agree that Sykkuno deserved infinitely more recognition and praise than he currently received, but on the other, the speed at which you two had aparently become close - a day! It had been a day! - sets Corpse’s teeth on edge. It was all he could do to keep quiet as the others chimed in, all their sentiments mirroring Rae’s.
All this frustration and resentment was almost definitely unhealthy, he was more than aware, but something about you had fixed in his mind; if it had been anyone else, anyone less talented or personable or productive, he could have probably handled it, but you...
All he gets is two games worth of peace before Sykkuno announces that he’s gotten a reply. Aparently you’re in the middle of recording a cover. Something about knowing that fills Corpse with discomfort, with envy, like he should be working on his music instead of being here.
"But they say they're gonna take a break in an hour or say, so they might join us for a few games," Sykkuno’s tone betrayed his bright smile, and suddenly the voice chat was flooded with excitement from almost all in attendance.
"Wait, really? Just like that, we'll be playing with Y/N?" Leslie sounds disbelievingly hopeful, but thankfully it’s only a few moments until the next game beings. While none of the others had picked up on Corpse’s silence, his chat seemed confused. Purposefully ignoring their questions and comments on the matter, he instead gives a few comments on the game, trying to come off lighter than he was feeling.
He’s not quite sure what he’s going to do if you join the stream, he’d never actually considered that he might one day talk to you, have to confront the person whose very existence got under his skin, who might very well be the only other person like him on this side of the world. Unsurprisingly, his head’s not in the game.
"Did you get enough sleep last night?” Rae feels the need to ask when whatever response he’d given in a meeting had just come out as an incoherent mumble. Of course he straight up laughs at her question, which is answer enough, and she clicks her tongue disapprovingly, “you’re impossible.”
“Have you drunk any water today -?”
“Sykkuno you’re dead,” Sean interrupts Sykkuno, who had broken one of the main rules of the game simply to question Corpse about his health; he’s far too caring for his own good, but moments like this make for good entertainment, “dead people can’t talk,” Corpse is grateful for all of five seconds before Sean turns on him, reiterating Sykkuno’s question like a traitor; “Corpse, have you drunk water today?” In lieu of a proper response, Corpse groans, playing at being annoyed.
“I say we vote him out because if he is the imposter, we win, and if he isn’t, he has time to go drink a glass of water,” Rae proposes matter-of-factly, which just leaves Corpse spluttering with disbelief.
“That’s fucking stupid; I’m not the imposter, you’re basically throwing the game -” but the votes are already popping up, and unfortunately, for the first time all stream, everyone seems to be in agreement.
“Drink water, Corpse,” Rae, clearly the leader of this mutiny, orders, as Corpse watches his character get flung into lava, and very begrudgingly heeds her words. He takes his sweet time drinking a full glass of water and refilling it to take back with him, intermittently glaring from his kitchen at his computer, despite the game still going on; he’s got several tasks left, if they don’t catch the imposters, they’re doomed, and honestly he doesn’t care. Once the game ends, with the crewmates’ loss, as he’d suspected, they all find themselves back in the lobby. Maybe they’re waiting for him. They can wait longer.
As he settles himself back into his office chair, he pulls on his headphones in time to hear -
“- earlier than I thought because of a whole thing on TikTok and then Twitter, and then my manager texted me telling me-” It’s like he’s turned twenty again at the sound of your voice; you, bright, earnest, rambling to probably Sykkuno or Sean or Rae, probably not even aware of him, but he’s never been more aware of you. Not that he’d ever admit it to anyone, but your second EP, hyperfocus, had been in heavy rotation on his Spotify since he’d discovered it, since he’d listened to the crack in your voice, the exhaustion with which you spoke on i’m going through some stuff when Lofi had just been taking off as a genre. He’s... conflicted, going through an internal crisis while you keep talking, blissfully unaware, “- anyways, I think she’s just worried that I’ll end up threatening to German Supplex Harry Styles, or the late, great, Prince, and I’ll end up cancelled.”
“Y/N,” your name sounds equal parts amused and concerned as Sykkuno says it, with the air of someone who’s been privy to you and your antics far longer than just one day. The response you give is just as bright and cheery as your rambling had been, assuring him that you wouldn’t threaten to German Supplex Prince.
“You sure about that?” Sean was obviously grinning, judging by his fond tone, “sounds like something you’d try -”
“I’ve changed, Jack- Sean- fuck,” your muttered swear undercuts your attempt at earnestness after you correct yourself, clearly not used to calling him by his actual name. To that, Sean gives a fond chuckle, before going right back to ribbing you.
“I’m pretty sure there’s still video evidence of you trying to square up with Mark in person,” Sean points out, to which you grow huffy and defensive, playing up your frustration.
“Well, that was for a completely reasonable reason!”
“Which was?”
“I thought it would be funny,” tone flipping completely, the words come out so sincere and bright it’s almost tooth rotting; if he didn’t know any better, Corpse would probably find himself being endeared by it, “and it was! Plus,” though here you give pause, and something about the tone of the conversation shifts as you chew on the words you’d almost said without thinking, “it was funny,” you said, softer this time. Sean, sensing the shift, does his best to pick the mood back up, reminding you that both you and Mark lost the competition you’d been taking part in anyways, and asking if you really had changed.
Before you had time to answer, however, Rae spots Corpse’s avatar moving ever so slightly, and immediately jumps on him.
“Corpse! Did you drink water?” She asks. He unmutes so they can all hear his deep, beleaguered sigh. “I can and will bully you into taking care of yourself,” her heart’s in the right place, and it is mostly a bit, so he can’t be too put out by the fact that she cares.
“I can’t believe you all voted me out because of it,” he chooses to respond instead, and Rae’s cackle echoes through the voice call.
“She also was the imposter, so...” Ze trailed off, a little sheepishly, to which Corpse rolled his eyes, not that anyone can see. Of course she was. But he’s not even given a moments before -
“You must be Corpse!” The moment the words leave your lips, every single goddamn nerve in Corpse’s body feels like it’s alight; everything overwhelming, unfamiliar,. white-hot, he’s suddenly desperately trying to keep his various abilities in check, since he really doesn’t want to short out his whole system, end the stream early, and probably cause his building to go into a blackout, just because of whatever this is. The whole world has changed with four words; better and worse and more more than anything. It’s... it’s a confirmation of some kind, and he tries to hold onto that vindictive feeling in his chest. You are familiar, you are something he recognises like no-one else he’s ever met before; you are like him. Is it better or worse now he knows it’s the truth?
“Must I be?” He manages to respond, keeping his voice as level as he’s able, shooting for vaguely amused and trying not to let any of the past few seconds sudden overwhelming panic and triumph bleed into his voice. But the moment you hear him, there’s a sharp gasp; that same something, understanding, recognition he’d felt, you feel it too.
“Y/N, you okay?” Ze had asked, and you made a vaguely muffled noise of unconvincing confirmation. Out of sheer, idle curiosity, Corpse opened a new tab and searched up your YouTube channel where you were streaming.
“Maybe we should have warned ya’,” Sean offers with a light laugh, before lowering his voice, immitating and announcer as best as he could, “warning! Corpse is about to speak!” Which at the very least got Corpse to laugh, though he refused to give anything away as your stream loaded, and the banter continued in his ears.
“Har har,” you muttered sarcastically into the voice chat, right as the stream finished loading, and - you. Well dressed, face in your hands, heels of your palms pressed against your closed eyes; honestly, he doesn’t exactly have any prominent initial thoughts about you, watching you scrunch your face up in your hands, dealing with the same thing he had to, though your face was live to thousands. Beside you, the text chat for your stream was going almost too fast to read, but he managed to follow a few threads of thought here and there.
[an eye thing! they’ve got an eye thing!] [someone @ y/n_creature_spec on twt!!] [who has an eye thing??] [lmao love that they were so shocked hearing corpse that it set off their eye thing] [hello!! vampire here!! we have eye things!!] [u cant be a vampire it’s the middle of the day] [THERE ARE COUNTRIES OTHER THAN AMERICA YOU KNOW] [i am willing to put MONEY on the idea of them being fae of some kind.] [^^yeah they just didnt want us to see their eyes sparkling like an anime character.] [that feels like smthn corpse could bring out in people]
And then you’re blinking back to reality, bringing him from his thoughts as for one terrifying moment, it’s as if his gaze locks with yours. Expression so bright and inviting, despite the way your eyes were watering just a little, you hold eye contact with your camera for a moment before looking at your screen, mumbling something about an eyelash in your eye; Corpse lets out a shaky breath. Chat seems unconvinced, but at least the other streams take you on your word. For a few more moments, he quietly watches you, watches the way your eyes roam your screen as you order your thoughts, and for all that he’s thought of you, he’s never properly looked at you. It’s taken him until now to acknowledge that there was definitely a reason for your success beyond just your talent; certainly you could have become successful from your music alone, but your career certainly wasn’t hindered by the fact that you’re actually quite- suddenly, Corpse is overcome by the sense that he’s intruding, exiting out of the window immediately, even going so far as to push back from his desk, fingers spread wide, braced against the edge, trying not to think too hard about... any of it. If he thought too hard about what it meant to have another angel in LA, he would drive himself mad.
“Well, Corpse, it’s good to meet ya, been told great things,” to him and him alone it’s so clear you’re trying so hard to play it cool, though Corpse couldn’t fault you for that, doing the exact same thing; again, when you speak to him, it’s like his whole being is hit with a rush of warmth; it’s less overwhelming this time, somehow scalding but bearable now.
“I see Sykkuno’s been spreading lies about me,” Corpse fires off instinctually, to which Sykkuno splutters protests at the implication, despite your bright laughter, and Sean’s shout to the contrary.
“Don’t be mean, Corpse, Sykkuno would never lie about you,” Sean is adamant, and Corpse can tell he’s being honest, just as the tell-tale ringing in his ears knows the next words from Sean’s mouth are utter lies; “me on the other hand? Y/N whatever you do, do not listen to Corpse’s music, it’s just the worst.” Before the implication, the reality of what he’s saying sinks in, for just a moment, Corpse feels a rush of affection for Sean, so clearly and earnestly plugging his music, right before your voice re-joins the chat and Corpse remembers exactly who Sean is plugging his music to.
“Fuck you, J- Sean, I do what I want,” while you played along, amused and light, Corpse himself was at a loss for words. You ask him - him specifically, he knows, he knows with absolute certainty you’re asking him - if he’s a musician, and everyone else chimes in before he can even think about finding his voice.
“Don’t search him on Spotify! Don’t do it!” Sean, on the verge of laughter, seems delighted by the turn this conversation has taken as the sound of aggressive typing fills the chat from your end. What the fuck. What the fuck?! No matter his thoughts and opinions about you and your possible supernatural origins, you were still Y/N, literal Grammy winner and Golden Child from the Golden Age of YouTube, playing along as Sean used the world’s worst reverse psychology on you to get you to listen to his music. Oh fuck, this is not how today was meant to go.
“I don’t wanna hold up the game, I’ll listen as I play,” you tell them, almost painfully polite, though Ze agrees to start the next game. If Corpse’s mind wasn’t in the game before, there’s no way in hell it was now.
Three minutes into the first round and he’s failing miserably at card swipe when he chances a look at his chat; people were spamming lyrics from Miss YOU! and Cat Girls Are Ruining My Life! which was sweet but nerve wracking, since he’s pretty sure it means you’ve already listened to one and moved on to the next. If you’re an angel, and you know he’s an angel, what in the hell would you think of his music? Honestly, even if you weren’t an angel, you’re still you, and his music was... well...
When the first meeting is called, and it’s discovered that you’ve been murdered, there’s a strange sense of relief that comes with it, even as he’s being accused of your murder. He’s got a solid alibi, so they end up voting out Sean, and the game continues. Despite the brief reprieve from your possible judgement, his heart still feels as though it’s skittering erratically around his ribcage.
Rae comes along when he’s doing Simon Says, and shoots his little avatar. The moment he becomes a ghost, he lets out a long breath, giving himself a moment to relax, to collect his thoughts, catching back up with some questions with chat he hadn’t quite realised he’d been holding, and chances a look at his chat again.
“Of course I’m tense,” he finds himself musing quietly to his chat while the remaining players were arguing over the top of each other in a meeting, “pretty sure most of hyperfocus has been in my Spotify wrapped every year since it was released,” for a few moments, it doesn’t even occur to him what he’s said, or that he’s said it out loud, but when it hits him- oh, oh no, it feels like too much to admit, and he has no idea what to say next, how to backtrack, how to at least pretend like he doesn’t think about you or your music any more than any other person would. However much he may resent certain aspects of it, he still knows he has a reputation to uphold, and panic and denial have never been a part of his reputation.
So he keeps his mouth shut, bites down on the half-hearted excuses and explanations that keep springing to mind, keep pressing against his teeth. He does his tasks quietly, thanks the people donating, and pretend it never happened until the round ends, heart in his throat. He knows, the same way a human survivor in a zombie apocalypse movie knows, that he’s just putting off the inevitable, and that someone’s definitely already clipped it and is probably uploading it to Twitter or Tumblr faster than he could protest.
“Y/N I’m so sorry!” Sean’s the first one to talk when they’re back in the lobby, which leads to your laughter filling the voice chat, telling him it’s okay.
“I didn’t even care, honestly I was just vibing,” the smile in your voice is almost enough to distract from the strained edge to your words, something not quite right, but so faint Corpse isn’t sure if it was really there, and he’s not quite sure anyone else heard it either. Except -
“Y/N?” Sykkuno says your name like it means something that no-one but you and him can decipher, something concerned, almost a question, checking in without being too obvious.
“Yeah?” There’s that strained tone, just a little more audible this time, before you process who’s talking, how he’d said your name, and - “yeah,” firmer, calmer, a reassurance.
“Vibing?” And he says it like that was his question all along, like the two of you hadn’t had a full conversation in three words. When the others started asking about what you thought of the music, it’s clear none of them have picked up on the hint of strangeness that had been in your tone, and you deliberate before answering.
“Am I- is it- it’s weird if I quote it, isn’t it -?”
“Jacksepdicy how I whip that!” Sean practically yells into his microphone, cutting you off and somehow making the line sounding even more Irish than he himself did naturally, which startles a laugh from Corpse, “it’s my name in a song, I think about it daily,” he announces, voice oozing pride, and despite the situation and headspace he found himself in, Corpse feels his heart grow warm knowing that even a line like that had brought Sean joy.
“I thought,” you pause for a moment, presumably to double check which song you were about to reference, “I thought Miss YOU was a whole mood,” you admit, the faintest smile in your voice, and something tightens in Corpse’s chest at that.
“You not gonna quote it?” Rae teased.
“Too nervous to follow Sean,” you fired back.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get there one day, Y/N,” Sean laughs fondly, and you all joke around, playing up the bit, while Corpse’s mind is stuck on the fact that you never once addressed him when talking about his music. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, it meant he didn’t have to deal with the sudden, fiery sensation your voice brought with it, so not bothered, persay, if anything he’s glad to know you liked it... But it’s weird that he knows so acutely -
“Hey,” and you don’t even say his name, but there’s that feeling again. Each time it grows less intense, like he’s been inoculated, and no instead of his nerves being ablaze, it’s as if he’s suddenly sitting beside a bonfire, each and every time you speak to him. The others voice their confusion at your sudden vaguness, but Corpse answers without even thinking, because of course he knows.
“Yeah?”
A few moments pass, while the others carry on amongst themselves for the moment. The two of you sit in this one moment together, neither quite sure how to feel about it.
“You’ve been awfully quiet,” you point out, though there was only the barest him of the earlier strangeness in your voice, now overpowered by something that made it almost sound like you were pleased. At this, however, even more confusion arises when the others figure out that Corpse had ‘guessed’ correctly, that you’d been talking to him. But he can’t really hear them, or, well, he finds himself tuning them out, swallowing hard before he pushes to talk.
“Am I not allowed to enjoy the moment?” He asked, trying to ignore the weirdness of it all, keeping his tone light.
“I’m just surprised; it’s your music after all.”
“You like hearing my voice?” Despite the surprisingly cocky way with which he speaks, he regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth, wincing internally. Of all the people he could have said that to...
“I never said that,” and though your own tone matched his, something teasing, something that could almost be misconstrued as flirty in the right circumstances, he’d heard the faint thread of discomfort, feeling it all too much himself. But your words, and thankfully your tone, was overshadowed by both Sykkuno and Sean jumping in to assure Corpse that they enjoyed hearing his voice.
“If you and Y/N ever collaborated, you know it’d break the internet, right?” Rae interjects, all kinds of smug and knowing, followed by a chorus of approving voices all broke out in unison as the rest of the lobby considered the possibility.
“Rae, you know our Twitter mentions are going to be going off for the next month now, don’t you?” You groaned.
“Maybe it’s a sign!” Rae exclaimed, delighted, before her tone turns teasing and fond, “and besides, aren’t your mentions always going off?”
[ID: The first four posts on Y/N’s Tumblr dashboard.
blueheart-anon hearing y/n and sean interact again after like 3 years unlocked memories like im a fucking sleeper agent. having war flashbacks to 2017′s ‘y/n is septiplier’s kid’ phase. how do i lock the memories up again im going to die of embarrassment why were we like that [tagged: #y/n #y/n y/l/n #jacksepticeye #sean mcloughlin #i WILL NOT add the ship tag i mentioned #blue talks] [7 notes] [▶️🗩↪️🖤]
fangloriousbastard ↪️fangloriousbastard fangloriousbastard Rae: Y/N & Corpse Collab When? Y/N: 🔪 - fangloriousbastard Y/N IMMEDIATELY MURDERING RAE AND THEN CORPSE I- - fangloriousbastard Y/N MUTTERING THE JACKSEPDICY LYRIC WHILE MURDERING HIM WTF IS HAPPENING?? - fangloriousbastard SYKKUNO NO BBY IM SO WORRIED - fangloriousbastard Y/N IM BEGGING U TO STOP SAYING CORPSE LYRICS BEFORE U KILL UR FRIENDS - fangloriousbastard WAIT WHAT Y/N AND SYKKUNO BOTH VOTING FOR THEMSELVES INSTEAD OF EACH OTHER - fangloriousbastard “ride or die guess im gonna die” y/N PLEASE U MET HIM YESTERDAY - fangloriousbastard y/n’s still listening to corpse’s music we love to see it - fangloriousbastard WAIT NO ZE KILLED SYKKUNO IN FRONT OF THEM AND THEY WON OMG SO MUCH IS HAPPENING DID THESE MOTHERFUCKERS QUOTE AN ACTUAL THE OFFICE MEME AT EACH OTHER - fangloriousbastard Y/N: YOU KILLED MY BOY Ze: you’ve known him A Day! Y/N: you don’t have all the facts Ze: which are? Y/N: I love him. Y/N: Not in a weird, shippy way tho, but like, come on, man, look at him! Sykkuno’s avatar: 🌱 👁👄👁 Sykkuno irl: 🥰 - fangloriousbastard ahem anyways corpse & y/n collab when? - y/n 🔪❤️ - fangloriousbastard 👁👄👁 - fangloriousbastard aren’t you supposed to be streaming?? [tagged: #HEWWO??? #among us lb #why do i only remember they’re following me when i post outrageously stupid content #btw y/n if u kill sean again i’ll cry] [43 notes] [▶️🗩↪️❤️]
fyahproof-y/n ↪️ selkiey/n selkiey/n y/n’s explicit ‘i love him but not in a weird shippy way’ is the LOUDEST fandom vague i’ve ever heard in my life [286 notes] [▶️🗩↪️❤️]
crpshsbnd ↪️ 221b-theres-a-bee crpshsbnd hope corpse is feeling okay he’s been kinda quiet this stream - 221b-theres-a-bee if someone suggested i make music with a grammy award winning artist i might be kind of quiet too - crpshsbnd asjdskldfjkdsf u right, still, hope that’s the reason. [tagged: #how do i always forget they won a grammy #actually i know why i keep forgetting #because every time i remember they won a grammy i remember the video where they jousted corndogs with joe sugg #and the winner had to deepthroat theirs for the camera #and y/n won but felt like an asshole for making joe deepthroat his corndog alone #and they ended up almost throwing up because they went too far with it #so hot #so talented #so very stupid sometimes] [3 notes] [▶️🗩↪️🖤]
Twitter is kind of a hellscape, Corpse decides, scrolling through his notifications as the stream’s winding down, seeing about a thousand different people tagging both you and him, asking for a collab, or seeing fit to show you both every single time one of you had mentioned the other in stream. Or had simply interacted. He’s not quite sure how to feel about hearing you mutter ‘make it rain, leave her wet, like a snowflake’. Unsurprisingly, a considerable few people had thought to clip the interaction where he’d apparently instinctively known you were talking to him, which he thoroughly regrets. There’s enough speculation about him online already, he doesn’t need people cluing into the fact that he might not be entirely human as well.
So now, he’s sitting idle in the lobby of the game as everyone’s thanking each other, discussing when they might get together to stream again; he’s quiet, disconnected from it all even though he knows he’s still live, he can’t help but stare at his phone, frown at your Twitter profile. You’re not following each other. A lot of his friends follow you, are mutuals with you, but you and he are not following each other, and he’s not sure if he’d like to change that. But it would make sense, right? It’s what’s expected.
Your pinned tweet is the single you released yesterday, which he still hasn’t listened to. The cover is cute; you’re - fuck. He refreshes the page. In the few moments since he’d clicked on your profile and now, you’d tweeted, thanking everyone for joining the stream, while you’re still in his ear, alongside everyone else, distinctly not addressing him. Maybe he should DM you, be upfront, ask about what you are, if his suspicions are true.
He hits the back button and goes back to scrolling through his mentions.
“Hey.” Your voice, soft and earnest despite that warmth that crackles through him; he’s half distracted, hand moving instinctively to push-to-talk, and -
“Yeah?” God fucking damn it. Not again. He’s really gotta stop answering on instinct just because he knows you’re talking to him. He hates that he knows.
“Good to meet you, Corpse,” and there was a strange sincerity in your voice, and he responds in kind, but his heart’s not in it. There’s too much on his mind, too conflicted in his heart to tell the truth; his own words makes his ears ring. He can’t even lie to himself.
So he says his goodbyes, waits for the lobby to clear out and chatters away to his stream about when he might be on next. Upon ending the stream, he immediately opens the latest email from his producer, his latest project glaring back at him from the screen.
Yes, his various ailments have his body aching, but the interactions he’s had with you are giving him a headache when he thinks too hard about them, and he feels woefully unproductive. Never Satisfied stares back at him, so close to being finished, mocking him. Scowling harder, he listens to what he has so far, making tweaks and notes, glad for the distraction, glad that his producer had as chaotic of a sleep schedule as he did. This was the home stretch; one more all-nighter and it would finally be done.
He texts Heartful that he’s getting to work.
It’s four in the morning when he finally stops for a break, his good eye starting to itch from staring at a screen for so long. With a yawn, he leans forward, out of his chair, groaning as he straightens up to a mostly standing position. Hands braced against the edge of his desk, he lets out a resigned sigh and wills his wings into existence. The weight of them curled up tight against his back, as was customary for them to be when non-corporeal, has him leaning a little further forward. Another yawn and he lets them uncurl, lets them stretch out behind him, knocking over an empty microphone stand as they went. He’d get that later. A grateful groan escapes him, it’s been far too long since he’d even had a half-assed stretch like this, wings helping to stretch all the aching muscles in his back that were simply impossible to stretch otherwise, no matter how much he’d twist. Even so, his studio wasn’t big enough to properly stretch them, and he really didn’t feel like laying on his living room floor right now; he’s kind of concerned he’d just fall asleep there. Instead, he kicks his chair to the side and hits shuffle on one of his Spotify playlists, doing what he can for himself in the limited space, and finally going to forage through his cupboards for something resembling a meal. Maybe drink water, Rae’s damn voice in his head.
At least with his wings around he didn’t need to bother turning on any lights; he’s gotta find joy in the little things.
Today, or well, the past twenty-four hours, was a series of cruel jokes, he decides, all leading to the moment he curls up his wings and sits back down at his desk. The moment he puts his headphones back on, he’s greeted by your voice, and he almost jumps a foot in the air, concerned that you’d called him.
"- who I became, dreading when the music stops, what if I just fade away?” In the split second he’s realised that it was just a song, just your voice, crooning, gentle and sad against a soft beat and the sound of rain, as i’m going through some stuff playing in his ears, it’s too late. Already his aura had gone off, and his computer cuts out, as his monitor cuts to darkness, so suddenly all he can see is his own, exhausted reflection in the monitor, backlit by his own wings... Not exactly flattering.
Thankfully, it was only his computer that was affected, as he can still hear his refrigerator humming in the other room, so he wedges himself beneath his desk to reset the breaker for the power board that his whole system was connected to, grumbling to himself the whole time.
If he was being honest, however, he was glad he didn’t have to hear more than a few seconds of your song. For a long time it had been one of his favourites, though at this point he’d rather die than admit that. Yes, it’s a good song, but it’s the last thing he needs to hear right now. If he listened to you voice half the fears he still tried to ignore, well right now it may kill him, and he was so close to being finished with Never Satisfied. So close.
Instead, he gives himself the moment in which his system is rebooting to scroll through Twitter and Instagram on his phone, checking his mentions for good fanart to appreciate, only to stumble across one of your stan accounts tagging both you and him in a clip that he hadn’t seen earlier. He’s not sure what possesses him to click it.
“Don’t follow me baby, swear I’m going to hell,” Corpse’s own words leave your lips as you’re focused on the game, on being imposter, leading Sykkuno into electrical to fix lights, and something about it sounds wrong and he can’t quite put his finger on it. He’d heard other lines of his leave your mouth, clips from the stream he’d been tagged in, and it always manages to surprise him. When you sing his songs, even just a little bit, something in the back of his mind, something that had appreciated you as an artist all this time, it’s grateful, it’s excited, it’s overwhelmed. He wouldn’t deny that part of himself, he couldn’t, it didn’t feel right, but upon hearing this line, that grateful part was overshadowed by a visceral bitterness.
The line had been a moment of self deprecation, the only Angel he knew of who, granted it was by some of his own choices, was almost certainly going to Hell, if you believe in that sort of thing of course. But you? Every single part of you seemed to be the exact antithesis to him; you’re what an Angel should be, and him? Well, the line said it all really. It’s just... it feels like you’re mocking him at every turn now that he knows, or well, strongly suspects. With evidence. Which you’re probably not; if you’re an Angel, you wouldn’t go out of your way to mock another angel, so now he’s all in his head, frustrated at himself for being frustrated at you for just... liking his song?
He really should message you about earlier, clear things up, get out of his own mind and stop jumping to conclusions. Finding another angel was big, no matter his personal reservations, he should try and take this opportunity, right? Except that you hadn’t reached out to him either.
Damn it; he knows he needs to stop thinking about you and focus on his own shit. He turns off his phone and gently tosses it to the floor, out of sight out of mind.
Maybe he’ll feel better when he finishes his song, feel more productive, feel... complete for just a few moments. Maybe he’d stop comparing himself to you. Maybe.
[ID: Two tweets, one from @sp00kybihh, and one from @yourtwitter, followed by a retweet and reply conversation between @ashton5sos, @yourtwitter, and @y/nirwin.
@sp00kybihh: why did y/n’s smile every time corpse just knew they were talking to him without them having to say anythign make me feel things?? u no we love day 1 ride-or-die y/nkunno, but corpse & y/n just seem to get each other wtf 🥺🥺
@yourtwitter: australians are asleep post forbidden youngblood cover
(Thumbnail of Y/N sitting in front of the camera, dressed casually, visible from the chest up. There is a black microphone on a stand in front of them that they’re holding. Their mouth is open, as if halfway through singing, their eyes are closed, their background is a simple, white wall. Above Y/N, in black, VCR font, is the word ‘youngblood’. There is a large play button in blue and white in the middle of the thumbnail, to indicate that it is a link to a video.
Link: youngblood - 5 seconds of summer | y/n y/l/n cover i miss my boys. i miss people. thank you 5sos for being cool about me covering this <3</i> twitter: @yourtwitter 🔗youtube.com)
@ashton5sos retweeted the link and commented: Y/N you said it was gonna be low effort, this is killer! All it’s missing is some drums. Reminds me, I’m still sad we never got to record that thing we wrote in New York. | @yourtwitter: ASHTON IT IS 8AM I HAVE HAD NO SLEEP AND WAS NOT EXPECTING SUCH A QUICK RESPONSE I WOULD DIE FOR YOU | @yourtwitter: also lmfao i forgot about that ny thing that was good, from what i remember. do u still have that recording of us?? i may or may not have forgotten everything about that night apart from it being a blast #bringbacknewyork | @ashton5sos: Calum has it but also its 2am and he’s asleep, which you should also do. You know the boys are gonna love this... #bringbacknewyork | @y/nirwin: thank u both i have decided to pass away effective immediately #bringbacknewyork
End ID.]
#corpse#corpse husband#corpse husband imagine#corpse imagine#corpse x reader#corpse husband x reader#sykkuno#jacksepticeye#valkyrae#how the light gets in#shut ur pretty mouth#cyltlanp
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My biggest headcanon for the Councilor Jasper AU is that Jasper has Cotard's Syndrome, or Walking Corpse Syndrome, where a person believes a part of their body is missing, they are dying, dead, or don't exist.
Linking to him being a ghost, in this he feels like a ghost. He is deeply depressed and disillusioned to the world, but learned to cope over time (as this manifested in his early teens after a near-death experience that left him deeply physically and mentally scarred).
He had been in a few institutions growing up and learned how to cope, and as one of his milestones he reached out to David, his childhood best friend, for the first time in years.
David suggested Jasper come help him at the camp, and Jasper decided it would be a good idea to hopefully help him get closure and heal from his trauma some.
Over time he opens up to David about his struggles growing up, and even though it was still hard sometimes he was feeling better. The camp slowly turned into a more positive place for him and David a close companion.
He normally stays in the camp, not feeling comfortable going deep into the forest (having an intense phobia of bears due to trauma), or the island (more trauma). He enjoys helping in the mess hall most, as well as helping with boating activities.
He also usually turns a blind eye or covers for the kids causing trouble, but makes sure they don't get into any real danger. He enjoys the mischief. He and Max form a bond, as well, and he takes on a big brother role to the campers.
Eventually he and David start dating officially, much to the annoyance of Max. He comments on how Jasper could do better, and how dating coworkers never ends well, but deep down hes happy two of his most trusted people are happy.
((Sorry this is long hah! I just want to live vicariously through Jasper getting Mental Health Care since I am uninsured and can't do the same 😭 Also hurt/comfort! Without the fixer culture! Also.... setup for Dadjaspvid. Max AND Erid with their gay dads.))
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how the FUCK do i write conan. i am dying. can i just skip to chapter 4 already?? its been a Month and i have made no progress on chapter 3. how the fuck do i write him. help.
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Masterlist I
Read before requesting | MASTERLIST II It’s always gender neutral reader unless stated otherwise
『••MASTERLIST CLOSED••』
My Chemical Romance
GERARD WAY
Cardboard Boxes | Gerard x Reader | 2020 era
Genre: Angst / Comfort Gerard and (y/n) are organizing their old things when they find not just their things, but also memories.
Cuddles | Gerard x [fem] Reader | DD era | Part 1 + Part 2
Genre: Comfort / Fluff Summary: (Y/n) loves cuddling with Gerard - they're just friends, but (Y/n) wants more than that.
It’s poetic | Gerard x Reader | DD era
Genre: Comfort Warning: Mention of depression and self harm Summary: Gerard explains (y/n) it’s okay to have problems
Hey, sugar | Gerard x Reader | DD era
Genre: Fluff Summary: Pastel goth reader has a summer love
It’s just the drugs | Gerard x Reader | TCFSR era
Genre: Angst Warning: Alcohol and drugs abuse Summary: Was it really drugs that just kept you two together? It takes a while for Gerard to notice.
Paintings and cuddles | Gerard x Reader | 2013 era
Genre: Fluff / Comfort Summary: Gerard and reader barely have time to spend together, but that doesn’t really prevent them from having dates in the middle of the night.
YOU | Gerard x Reader | Basement era
Genre: Angst / Fluff Warning: Stockholm syndrome, kidnapping Summary: [Inspired by the Netflix series YOU] Gerard kidnaps (y/n) after noticing his feelings aren’t returned.
Lights, camera and fuck off | Gerard x [fem] Reader | 2020 era
Genre: Fluff / Light angst Summary: (Y/n) is an Umbrella Academy actress and her relationship with Gerard isn’t really well seen due to their age gap, but they don’t let all that negativity reach them.
Part two Part three Part four
I’m always yours | Gerard x Reader | Current era
Genre: Fluff Summary: Reader is a famous singer who dates Gerard and writes a song about their relationship.
Coffee cups and comic books | Gerard x Reader | 2020 era
Genre: Fluff Summary: Gerard and Reader work on DC Comics and he falls in love with reader
the famous living dead | Gerard x Reader | 2009 era | Part 1 + Part 2
Genre: Fluff / Angst Summary: [Corpse Bride AU] Gerard is suddenly married to a corpse
Vampires will never hurt you | Gerard x Reader | Bullets era 🎃Halloween special
Genre: Terror / Suspense / Fluff Warning: Description of death, though vague Summary: Why not to go to the graveyard at midnight? What can go wrong? Being attacked by a vampire?
Not so punk, are you, love? | Gerard x Reader | Desolation Row Era
Genre: Fluff Warning: Vague description of violence Summary: It’s been a nice day for Gerard and Reader until walking across a rude catcaller.
It’s not going to be alright | Gerard x Reader | Punk Gerard
Genre: Angst / Fluff / Comfort Warning: Anxiety attack, sort of Summary: (Y/n) brings Gerard to meet their parents. It doesn’t go as well as expected.
You’re like art | Gerard x Reader | Basement Gerard
Genre: Fluff / Cottagecore Summary: Gerard and (y/n) have a peaceful day, painting by the lake and laying down on flower fields.
Fuck me | Gerard x Reader | DesRow Gerard
Genre: Smut / Fluff Summary: Reader and Gerard need to relieve some stress after a stressing college week, including Gerard asking to get p*gged. Kind of content: P*gging / Fingering
Your night | Gerard x [fem] Reader | 2009 era
Genre: Smut / Fluff Summary: Gerard wants Reader's birthday night to be extra special
Turn Over | Gerard x [enby, afab] Reader | ProRev era
Genre: Smut / Comfort Summary: Reader comes out to Gerard as non-binary. Gerard decides to enjoy their stay at the hotel to relieve themselves and get f*cked in the *ss.
Pleasantly Surprising | Gerard x Reader | Revenge era
Genre: Fluff / Enemies to lovers Summary: (Y/n) meets a nice group of guys in a concert, but Gerard is the one who gets their attention, softening up each time he gets to know (y/n) better. Warning: Blood, but no violence or wounds description.
Summer Tour | Gerard x Reader | 2021 era
Genre: Fluff/Angst Summary: Reader finally makes their relantionship with Gerard public.
You’ll see | Gerard x [amab] Reader x Frank | Revenge era
Genre: Fluff / Smut Summary: (Y/n) f*cks Gerard in front of Frank before they can f*ck Frank. Kind of content: Hair tugging / Restraints / Harsh / Gagging / Safe / Dirty talk / Edging / Femboy / Voyeurism / Slapping / Overstim
Needy | Gerard x Reader | Bullets era
Genre: Fluff / Smut Summary: (Y/n) gives Gerard a handjob and maybe they get caught. Kind of content: Dirty talk / Handjob / Lowkey humiliation
Too much | Gerard x Reader | Basement Gerard
Genre: Fluff / Comfort Summary: Gerard - unlike Frank's descriptions - isn't so friendly and (y/n) tries to find out the reason. Pre-set reader's characteristics: shorter than Frank.
Outcasts | Gerard x Reader | Basement Gerard
Genre: Fluff / Comfort Summary: (Y/n) stands up for Gerard and their friends after hearing bullies talking bad about them. Pre-set reader's characteristics: knows Russian.
Filled up | Gerard x [enby, afab] Reader | Basement Gerard
Genre: Fluff / Smut Summary: (Y/n) decides to make Gerard a surprise for their anniversary. Kind of content: P*gging / Belly bulge / Cr*ampie / Riding
For me, baby | Gerard x Reader | Basement Gerard
Genre: Fluff / Smut Summary: (Y/n) finds out Gerard's chest is a sensible spot and is up to exploring it. Kind of content: Humping / Oral / Praising
Bad weather | Gerard x Reader | 2007 era
Genre: Fluff / Smut Summary: (Y/n) and Gerard pull over on the side of the road due to the bad weather and it's time to get rid of the boredom. Kind of content: Oral / Dirty talk
Behave | Gerard x Reader | Basement Gerard
Genre: Fluff / Smut Summary: Gerard starts bothering (y/n) while they're working, so (y/n) comes up with a deal so they'll be able to work in peace. Kind of content: Loving / Gentle / Light Dirty Talk / Oral / Toys
Part 2 Kind of content: Loving / Dirty Talk / Mast*rbation
How bad do you want it? | Gerard x Reader | Basement Gerard
Genre: Fluff / Smut Summary: (Y/n) and Gerard decide to try something new. Kind of content: Teasing / Praising / Toys / Restraints / Urethra play
Pumpkin spice | Gerard x Reader | any era (mcr) 🎃 Halloween special
Genre: Fluff / Comfort Warning: Light fake knife fight (fake knives, no blood) Summary: Gerard gets a job at the mall with (y/n).
One or two? | Gerard x Reader | Basement Gerard
Genre: Smut / Fluff Summary: (Y/n) comes home to find Gerard jerking off - exactly what he wasn't supposed to do. Kind of content: Oral fixation / Nipple play / Toys
Pathetic | Gerard x Reader [implied Frank x Reader | Ray x Reader] | Basement Gerard
Genre: Fluff / Smut Summary: Ray and Frank watch it as (y/n) takes care of Gerard. Kind of content: Voyeurism / Sub dom discourse / Toys / Fingering / Mommy calling / Humiliation
Pitchfork Red | Gerard x [afab] Reader | 2011 era
Genre: Smut Warning: Blood Summary: (Y/n) finally convinces Gerard to drink their blood and things get really spicy. Kind of content: Rough / Blood play / Masochism and sadism undertones
Not without you | Gerard x Redaer | Danger Days era
Genre: AU / Comfort Summary: (Y/n) is back to NY after years in Italy. Gerard has been waiting for them this whole time.
Bend over | Gerard x Reader | Revenge era
Genre: Smut Summary: Gerard annoys (y/n) until getting himself punished. Kind of content: Spanking / Edging / Cuffs / Toys / Office
Cold springs and warm falls | Gerard x Reader | Revenge era
Genre: Vent writing / comfort Warning: Depression mention / extremely minor OD hint Summary: Gerard has been a little down lately, so (y/n) has a cute idea to help him cheer up.
Monotonous | Gerard (solo) | Black Parade era
Genre: Vent writing / comfort Warning: Religious guilt Summary: Gerard has nothing to do but to wander around cemeteries and criticize society.
Another adventure in the dressing room | Gerard x [afab] Reader | ProRev era
Genre: Smut Summary: Gerard just asks (y/n) to fuck him good after a whole concert with a vibrator up his ass. Kind of content: Semi public / Teasing / Toys / Humiliation / Praising / Nipple play / P*gging
All mine... but not quite | Gerard x Frank x [afab] Reader x Ray | 2007 era
Genre: Smut Summary: The guys' little dispute over (y/n) turns out extremely well. Kind of content: Teasing / Dirty talk / Harsh / Degrading / Multiple org*sms / Overstimulation / Humiliation / Douple p*netration / Manhandling
FRANK IERO
The Jetset Life Is Gonna Kill You | Frank x Reader | Revenge era
Genre: Angst Warning: Mention/Description of death Summary: (Y/n) is a vampire who travels around killing specific people due to their hatred towards the current society; human Frank decided to stick along.
Blood on my hands | Frank x Reader | Revenge era 🎃Halloween special
Genre: Terror, suspense, fluff Warning: Terror/Blood Summary: A cozy house in the woods. Being attacked by a beast you can’t see. And suddenly finding out your boyfriend is a vampire.
You Wish | Frank x [non-binary, afab] Reader | LeATHERMOUTH era
Genre: Enemies to lovers Summary: Reader is the only one who doesn't take Frank's shit, but all the bickering eventually turns into flirting.
Part 2 (smut) Kind of content: Oral / Exchange of dominance
So pretty, all mine | Frank x [non-binary, afab] Reader | The Black Parade era
Genre: Smut / Fluff Summary: It's a boring day after coming back home from a tour and (y/n) decides to ask Frank if they can peg him - Frank accepts, thinking it's nothing much, just to find out he's so wrong. Kind of content: Reader is very loving <3 / Dirty talk / Praising / P*gging / Subspace
Spicy Horror | Frank x [fem] Reader | Pencey Prep era
Genre: Smut / Fluff Summary: It's Halloween, and (y/n) and Frank finally confess their crushes to each other when binge watching horror movies on Frank's place. Kind of content: Praising / Protected / Oral
You’ll see | Frank x [amab] Reader x Gerard | Revenge era
Genre: Fluff / Smut Summary: (Y/n) f*cks Gerard in front of Frank before they can f*ck Frank. Kind of content: Hair tugging / Restraints / Harsh / Gagging / Safe / Dirty talk / Edging / Femboy / Voyeurism / Slapping / Overstim
I Wanna Be Your Slave | Frank x [amab] Reader | 2004 era
Genre: Fluff / Smut Summary: (Y/n) f*cks Frank harsh as a kind of reward and punishment at the same time. Kind of content: Praising / Hair tugging / Handcuffs / Harsh / Temperature Play / Safe / Dirty talk / Edging / Fingering
Bet? | Frank x Reader | Parade era
Genre: Fluff / Smut Summary: (Y/n) suggests something new in bed - edging - and tries to convince Frank it's not as boring as he thinks. Kind of content: Restraints / Praise / Overstim / Oral / Fingering / Hand job / Edging
Pillow Princess | Frank x [enby, afab] Reader | ProRev era
Genre: Fluff / Smut Summary: As p*gging Frank, (y/n) finds out he's got another soft spot. Kind of content: Dirty talk / P*gging / Rough
Hair tugging | Frank x [enby, afab] Reader | ProRev era
Genre: Fluff / Smut / Comfort Summary: (Y/n) accidentally finds out how hair tugging has an effect on Frank. Kind of content: Riding / Oral / Mast*rbation / Hair tugging
Come back | Frank x [enby, afab] Reader | Revenge era
Genre: Fluff / Smut / Angst Summary: (Y/n) starts to notice Frank is distancing himself from them and finds out it's because of a crush, which leads to spicier things. Kind of content: Loving / Gentle / First time / Riding / Oral
Bubblegum | Pastel! Frank x Punk! Reader | Revenge era
Genre: Fluff / Smut Summary: It's been a time since (y/n) spent some time with Frank and they'll make sure to make it up for him. Kind of content: Teasing / Fingering
Tight grip around your hips | Frank x [afab] Reader | 2019 era
Genre: Fluff / Smut / Comfort Summary: This tension has been going on between Frank and (y/n) since they met each other and Frank can't take it anymore. Kind of content: Teasing / Fingering / Overstimulation / Rough / Safe / Dirty Talk / Throat grabbing / Loving / Praising
Fire and blood and candies | Frank x Reader | Revenge era 🎃 Halloween special
Genre: Fluff / Comfort Warning: Arson, fake blood Summary: (Y/n) and Frank are just average young people - setting fire on old houses and going on costume parties.
Breathless | Frank x [afab] Reader | ProRev era
Genre: Smut Summary: Frank catches (y/n)'s attention as he jumps around the stage and he decides to go after them in the parking lot. Kind of content: Semi public / Harsh / Choking / Protected
Not going down without a fight | Frank x [amab] Reader | 2021 era
Genre: Fluff / Smut Summary: Frank tries to dominate (y/n) just to be forced to do the exact opposite. Kind of content: Harsh / Hair tugging / Choking / Fight for dominance / Bratty Frank <3
Pathetic | Gerard x Reader [implied Frank x Reader | Ray x Reader] | Revenge era
Genre: Fluff / Smut Summary: Ray and Frank watch it as (y/n) takes care of Gerard. Kind of content: Voyeurism / Sub dom discourse / Toys / Fingering / Mommy calling / Humiliation
I am here | Frank x Reader | 2005 era
Genre: Angst / Comfort Warning: SH and SC hinting / Depression description Summary: (Y/n) is going through a rough time, but at least Frank is there for them.
I want anything | Frank x [afab] Reader | ProRev Era
Genre: Smut Summary: (Y/n) finds out a new kink when edging Frank. Kind of content: Edging / Teasing / Light bondage / Light humiliation / Dacryphilia
Bloodstained lips | Frank x [afab] Reader | ProRev Era
Genre: Smut Summary: Frank is a vampire who wants (y/n) to be his, and even gives up on killing them just so he can have them. Kind of content: Grinding / Teasing / Dirty talk / Blood / Riding / Groping
All mine... but not quite | Gerard x Frank x [afab] Reader x Ray | 2007 era
Genre: Smut Summary: The guys' little dispute over (y/n) turns out extremely well. Kind of content: Teasing / Dirty talk / Harsh / Degrading / Multiple org*sms / Overstimulation / Humiliation / Douple p*netration / Manhandling
RAY TORO
I’m here, love | Ray x [fem] Reader | Revenge era
Genre: Comfort / Fluff Warning: Anxiety attack Summary: Reader isn't handling it well when she goes with MCR for a tour for the first time, but Ray is always there for her.
Trading candies, not kisses | Ray x Reader | any era 🎃 Halloween special
Genre: Fluff / Comfort Summary: (Y/n) has a strong crush on their co-worker Ray and decides to call him to go trick or treating with them.
Pathetic | Gerard x Reader [implied Frank x Reader | Ray x Reader] | Revenge era
Genre: Fluff / Smut Summary: Ray and Frank watch it as (y/n) takes care of Gerard. Kind of content: Voyeurism / Sub dom discourse / Toys / Fingering / Mommy calling / Humiliation
All mine... but not quite | Gerard x Frank x [afab] Reader x Ray | 2007 era
Genre: Smut Summary: The guys' little dispute over (y/n) turns out extremely well. Kind of content: Teasing / Dirty talk / Harsh / Degrading / Multiple org*sms / Overstimulation / Humiliation / Douple p*netration / Manhandling
Nothing important | Ray x Reader | Revenge era
Genre: Fluff / Comfort Summary: Ray's annoying attitude turns out to be only attempts to get (y/n)'s attention.
Who you belong to | Ray x [afab] Reader | TBP era
Genre: Smut Summary: (Y/n) tries to get Ray jealous so they are fucked hard. Kind of content: Teasing / Dirty talk / Harsh / Degrading / Multiple orgasms / Overstimulation / Hand kink / Humiliation
MIKEY WAY
Luck | Mikey x Reader | any era 🎃 Halloween special
Genre: Fluff / Comfort Summary: A bad luck potion accidentally falls on Mikey's head and his witch partner, (y/n), is going to help him.
Riddle me this | Mikey x Reader | Revenge era
Genre: Enemies to lovers Warning: happens in an asylum / mentions of death / paranoia Summary: (Y/n) meets Mikey at the Arkham Asylum for the criminally insane. Mikey has a plan to get them out of there, but his main focus is (y/n).
Leave this place | Mikey x Reader | DD era
Genre: Comfort Summary: Mikey meets (y/n) in a trip to California, and doesn't want to leave (y/n) back even if they just spent an afternoon together.
...Please | Mikey x [amab] Reader | DD era
Genre: Smut Summary: Mikey wants more than a simple making out sesh. Kind of content: Sloppy / Grinding / Hand jobs / Groping / Dirty talk
Safe place | Mikey x Reader | Revenge era
Genre: Fluff / Comfort Summary: (Y/n) is shaken up after some guys were rude to them, but Mikey knows how to comfort his partner even if they don't want to talk about it.
PARTY POISON
Silver on your chest | Party Poison x Reader
Genre: Smut / Fluff Summary: (K/n) has a certain liking for Party's pierced nipples. Kind of content: Oral fixation / Nipple play
__________________________________
𝙼𝚢 𝚆𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚙𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 (𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜)
__________________________________
『••MASTERLIST CLOSED••』
#my chemical romance#emo#emocore#mcr#gerard way#bands#writing#x reader#imagine#mcr imagine#mcr x reader#gerard way x reader#gerard imagine#gerard way imagine#mikey way#mikey way x reader#frank iero x reader#frank iero imagine#frank iero#ray toro#ray toro x reader#fan fic#fanficion#fanfic#wattpad#writer#author#vampire au#fluff#angst
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Disney Land Fairy Tale (Yizhan AU)
YIZHAN AU (inspired by the song: Mad at Disney)
Yibo was once a happy-go-lucky person, however, life was never kind to those with pure hearts. Love wasn't like a fairy tale, be it platonic or romantic. So, how did he end up working at Disney Land?
Yibo huffed as he finished stacking different props in the storage room. He had his own concept of a fairy tale.
Little Mermaid was about a silly mermaid who tried to covet another woman's man.
Beauty and the Beast was about a kidnapper and his victim.
Snow White was about a man who fell in love with a corpse.
Romantic fairy tale? No. Love didn't exist... not even in stories.
Yibo walked out of the storage room only to bump into another person.
"Ah! I'm sorry!" said a bubbly voice.
The first thing that Yibo noticed was this man was a crazy Disney fanatic. He wore the mickey mouse headband, an obnoxious tee filled with all the disney princes, and in his hand a candy apple.
The next thing Yibo noticed was the mole under his lips as he gave a smile.
This man, XiaoZhan, came to Disney Land too many times to count. It came to the point where they've become acquaintances.
"Yibo, why do you hate Fairy Tales?"
"They're all sugar coated lies."
"That's not true."
Yibo frowned towards XiaoZhan's direction. XiaoZhan smiled.
"Beauty and The Beast--"
"Is just stockholm syndrome."
"--Is about someone who changed themselves into a person they became proud of after finding someone who loved them no matter what."
Yibo gaped at the older man who laughed and ruffled his hair.
"Now, what evil witch has you trapped in their tower?" XiaoZhan asked.
For Yibo, the world had been gray for so long, but at this moment, when the wind passed by XiaoZhan's hair and the sun landed on his handsome features...
Yibo felt magic swirl in his chest.
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5, 9, Henry, 7, 13 Ernest, 11, 15, 21, Agape, 2, 24, 31 Victor, that's for the load of numbers you threw at me >:) (but do as many or few as you like)
....Whelp. Fair's fair I guess!
Henry
5. How would he be as a teacher? Best and worst subject?
>Henry would be the best teacher in the entire world hands down - the kind of teacher that could turn a student from hating a subject to adoring it. Obviously his best subject would be literature. He would read stories and poems and plays out loud to his students at least once per class, and would always be so enthusiastic and clearly into it that every student would be on the edge of their seats listening, either crying, laughing, or lost in a world of wonder at whatever picture the thing he's reading is trying to paint. He'd be a patient and personable teacher as well, always willing to work with each student individually to make sure their learning needs are being met, and he would be the kind of teacher that a lot of students would feel they could talk to about just about anything. You know those teachers that always have students hanging around chatting after class about whatever happened that day? He'd be like that. In terms of real teachers I've had, I think he'd be somewhere between the eccentric grammar teacher I had who always did everything with so much enthusiasm that it was impossible to come out of that class without a smile, and the art teacher I had who, if somebody peaked into the classroom, it would be impossible to tell who the teacher was because he was probably sitting on one of the art tables chatting and sketching or painting while we worked on our own projects.
As for his worst subject, it would be math. I headcanons that, like me, he has dyscalculia, so any kind of math is really difficult for him. If he were ever in a situation where he would be expected to teach math, he'd ask the class if there was anyone who was good at math and ask them if they felt like helping to teach for the day - and if they said no, he'd probably say "...Well alright then. What if we read the first few pages of the Iliad instead and pretend we actually did math things?" ...Or he'd sneak Victor in and ask him to teach instead, despite the fact that Victor is also Not Great At Math despite being a science nerd.
9. How easily does he make friends? Does he have difficulty talking to new people? Why or why not?
>He would say he has a hard time making friends. He feels like he spends too much time rambling about his interests to others, and feels awkward when he has nothing else to talk to anyone about. Ironically, though, most people actually love him and he's really surprisingly popular both back home in Geneva and in Ingolstadt. He definitely struggles with talking to new people, unless Victor is with him in which case he becomes a lot more confident and outgoing because... Well if truth be told, he feels most complete when Victor is around, and that helps him to be more social!
Ernest
7. Any allergies, intolerances, or sensitivities? How severe are they? Do they affect his daily life?
>...Casually about to project here.
Ernest has MCAS (mast cell activation syndrome). Which essentially means, he's allergic and/or intolerant to and/or sensitive to anything/everything at any given time. Obviously the diagnosis didn't exist back then, so it was part of why he was considered so sickly - because he was literally sick from allergies and whatnot almost all the time. It affected his life a lot more when he was younger, but he's grown used to all the affects of it and isn't really bothered by it unless he gets a particularly severe reaction - one that, say, triggers his asthma or causes severe swelling or gastrointestinal cramps.
13. How dangerous is he? Is he innocent or someone to be feared? Do others know?
>Dangerous? Ernest? Ha- ...He'd like to think he is, and I guess if it wasn't for his disabilities he would be. As with most Ernests he has an affinity for weaponry and swordfighting - and truth be told he's rather proficient! The only problem is that his joints are whack (projecting again hehe) and dislocate very easily, and it seems to only be getting worse as he gets older - hence why he starts walking with a cane at the age of 19. That said, that's not going to stop him from defending himself or his family/friends when the need arises - there's just a nonzero chance that he'll injure himself in doing so.
In other words, people should have a healthy level of respect for him, but he's certainly not necessarily a threat.
Agape
11. What is the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to him? Is he still ashamed of it? Were there any witnesses?
>The most embarrassing thing? Hm... As of right now he doesn't really have any embarrassing moments? But only because he feels like he has to do everything perfectly all the time so any little mistake he makes is less of an embarrassment and more of an anxiety attack waiting to happen 😔
15. What is his favourite time of day? Why? Does he have a common practice or activity during this time?
>Oh! I don't think he'd be able to choose! He'd love all times of day equally I think. Night time would be very comforting to him because, well, it always has been. That was the time he was most able to do anything before staying up on the mountain with Victor, so it feels very familiar, not to mention he enjoys the quiet and coolness of it, and the moon and stars feel sort of like old friends to him in some ways. Favorite night time activities include stargazing and night hikes.
Dawn and Dusk are both wonderful as well - the colors in the sky and the way the clouds seem to glow in various colors of their own bring him an awful lot of joy, and he also has always loved the sound of bird song so listening to the dawn and dusk choruses is one of the most calming and peaceful things for him. If he has paint and canvas on hand, he likes to try to paint the sun rise or sunset and capture the beauty of it on canvas - though he feels like he can never seem to capture it as accurately as he would like.
Day is a time he's learned to love again. He used to fear it because that meant people would be out and about and there would be a greater chance of someone seeing him and either running from him in fear or attacking him, but now that he doesn't have to worry about that, he's able to enjoy the day without fear. The brightness that the sun brings to everything is something he cherishes, even though sometimes it's a bit too warm for his liking. One of his favorite sights is when sunlight filters through the leaves and needles in the forest and can be visibly seen as rays of light that shift and change with the wind and dapple the ground below, and that's something that can only really be found during the day. As for favorite regular day time activities, walking through the woods - especially with the company of Victor or Henry (even better if it's both), watching animals go about their day and sometimes sitting there and sketching them, or just laying out on the ridge watching the clouds go by (bonus points again if Victor and/or Henry joins him).
21. Are there any public events he would love to go to? What about ones that he would hate? Why?
>He loves music and Henry has gotten him interested in theater, so he would definitely want to attend concerts and plays if he could (and would adore musicals once those become a thing in the future). As for what he would hate, any kind of party or public event that involves socialization with other people, because... Well it would most likely end very badly for him at first, and even in the future when he might be able to do that without his presence being... disruptive, he would still be very uncomfortable due to past traumas. He would also hate anything that is too loud or too bright or too busy because that would give him sensory overload and he would just... Not be having a good time.
Victor
2. Can he play any instruments? Has he ever wanted to learn how to play any? Why?
>Well. Main AU Victor is proficient in piano but doesn't get the chance to play very often any more. He's more of a singer than an instrumentalist, though even then he'll only sing when he's alone or around people he trusts and cares about that he knows won't mind it, and doesn't really have a desire to learn how to play any new instruments. (Undead Redemption Victor on the other hand can play the piano and the guitar and Fern teaches him how to also play the banjo and the fiddle, though he never gets quite as good at either as her. In terms of vocal music, where Main AU Victor is definitely a lead singer type person, this Victor is more or the background singer if that makes any sense)
24. How dramatic is he? Does he make a big deal over every little thing, or does he fail to react to even the most crazy of events?
>Literally the biggest drama king in the entire world. Everything is a big deal all the time every day. Would be the kind of person to act like he's dying when he gets a cold. Has written his own obituary and will at least fifty times if not more, all due to minor circumstances that he thought would kill him - i.e. getting sick, spraining his ankle, getting bitten by an angry lab rat, breaking his arm (all five times), being bored and having nothing to do and thinking the boredom would be the death of him, etc. For the first few days living with his corpse son he spent the entire time pretty much avoiding him completely and complaining about everything all the time as loudly as possible for the sole fact that he wanted to make it abundantly clear that he didn't want to be there. Thankfully rather than being the annoying kind of dramatic, even when he's being serious about it his over-the-top reactions to things tend to be more silly and endearing.
31. What is his sense of humour like? What does he find funny? Does he try to be funny? Is he actually?
>Sarcasm is his sense of humor. Sarcasm and snark are his ways of being funny, so it really depends on who's around him to determine if he's actually funny or not. To be fair, pretty much everyone he surrounds himself with has a similar sense of humor or at the very least finds his attempts at silly sarcasm and snark to be humorous, so he thinks he's hilarious. Even though he doesn't make them often himself, he does enjoy a good pun - although his reaction to puns usually is usually some sarcastic bit about leaving or something more dramatic like "I swear I'm going to jump out the window." Which to someone who doesn't know his sense of humor might sound concerning or might seem like he actually hated the joke, but for anyone that does know his sense of humor and understands it - they know this kind of reaction is the highest compliment he's capable of bestowing on a person who just made a pun. If a pun wasn't good, he would just tell the person it wasn't funny or wasn't a good pun.
#thank you for all the numbers!!#i was going to try to answer all of these when i got them but i got too tired about halfway through and need to sleep 😅#long post#here's to hoping i didn't mess any of that up because as usual i did zero proof reading lmao
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The Mouse and the Spider by I’m Over There: Jim Moriarty gets bored. Molly Hooper gets lonely. They’re just two planets revolving around the brilliant sun that is Sherlock Holmes, drawn in by his gravity. And his light. But everybody needs distractions…
Song as Old as Rhyme by @wherestoriescomefrom: Hush, the wind is blowing hard. Be quiet, child, sleep soundly - Or the Dark One will steal your heart. [Beauty and the Beast AU]
Nameless by @wherestoriescomefrom: The first name was expected - even welcomed. The second, on the other hand, left much to be desired. And Jim would never understand what it was about it that was compelling. [Soulmate AU: On one hand, the name of your soulmate, on the other - your enemy. Molliarty.]
The Rose Point Manor: A young woman struggling in an unjust society takes a break from the theatrics of pretending to be her male counterpart, Mark Hooper, and decides to relax at the quiet but foreboding Rose Point Manor. There she comes to a realization that something far more sinister lurks there than at her morgue back home - Victorian AU
We’re Ancient History: When Molly Hooper had begun her scientific expedition, she never knew her time on the dig sites would unearth more than the dead.
Forget Me Not: “This melancholy London - I sometimes imagine that the souls of the lost are compelled to walk through its streets perpetually. One feels them passing like a whiff of air.” What happens when two lost souls find each other? Are they still forgotten? - Amnesia!AU
Capture My Good Side: “Photography is all about secrets. The secrets we all have and will never tell.”
Deus Mortis: "You can hide from the devil, but he’ll always find you.“ - Victorian AU
Face Value: “I’m not sure how to describe this nonsense, basically Molly looks good in a moustache and Jim notices.”
Not a Body Farm: Molly really should’ve known better than to download FarmVille on a criminal mastermind’s cell phone, even if it had been a hilarious joke at the time. Since one day she wakes up in a bed in some random farm in the middle of nowhere, and the deed to the property in her name.
Oh God, Not the Westwood!: In which timid Molly Hooper must hide a heinous crime from a man who likes to watch a murder take place while drinking his morning coffee.
Life Preserver: “Missing you comes in waves and tonight I am drowning.”
Midnight Edition: The Bittersweet: Pop-rocks can be unpredictable. In an instance, a delight to the senses, or startling painful the next - smut
The Bittersweet: Even delicious things can be sour, at another glance.
Third Date Syndrome: Long bouts of silence and awkwardness on first dates are inevitable, and for the hundredth time Molly wished she was exempted from it.
We’ll Always Have St. Barts: “I wish I didn’t love you so much.” - Casablanca AU
Apex: Molly Hooper thinks fondly of Jim from IT, but can’t get enough of Jim Moriarty - contains smut~
The Parting Glass: After Reichenbach, Molly Hooper is drowning. She receives a package, request and tradition from a very dead Jim Moriarty. She receives nothing but burdens from a very alive Sherlock Holmes.
Rust and Stardust: “The last long lap is the hardest. I shall be dumped where the weed decays, and the rest is rust and stardust.” - Jim is a ghost, and wouldn’t it just figure that he haunts Molly Hooper.
Wild and Precious: “Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon? Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” - How Molly fell in love with a ghost, and tried not to waste her life beside him. She failed. - settled in the same universe of Rust and Stardust
Release: Written for the prompt “Jim fucking Molly so hard and so good that she can’t even get a full word out, only moans and half-uttered curses “: In which Jim surprises Molly after work - contains smut~
A Love Outside of Time: There’s a lot of strange happenings at 2945 S Willow Street, shrieks and screams and moans that have terrorized the neighbors and left the house unsold for generations. Can the great paranormal investigator, Sherlock Holmes, exorcise the spirits living there?
Gifts Given and Received: Sherlock ruined Molly’s Christmas gift and Jim is determined to make her holiday better. - ASIB AU, contains smut~
Cabernet Sauvignon: Written for the prompt “Jim’s ready to propose, but wants the event to be special, and so he hides the ring in Molly’s wine. Molly drinks it down too fast and chokes on the ring”: A fluffy slice of life, where Molly makes Jim’s life just a little less lonely.
Power Dynamic: Molly can’t help trying to control the insanity that is Jim Moriarty. A framework for his mind to lean on, a collar to hold him together, a mistress to keep him mostly sane.
Asphodel: “When you need slightly-less-than-legal magic substances, you seek out ‘Moriarty’s Special Imports and Fineries’. A new branch of Necromancy, pathologist-in-training Molly Hooper returns a set of counterfeit goods and receives a job offer in return.” - Fantasy AU
Her beast feature: “As he studied her from afar, Jim thought Molly’s best feature was her neck. He really didn’t anticipate her reaction to Sherlock beating a dead man with a riding crop.” - Molly x Jim, PWP, set at the beginning of A Study in Pink
Junior: So what’s a beleaguered pathologist to do when the UK’s Most Wanted turns up to visit her cat?
Mr Sex: Jim doesn’t ask her what she likes or what she needs; it’s not necessary. But he asks her what she wants - contains smut
Sunday Afternoon: Sleep with Molly Hooper: Molly canceled their date at the last minute, but no one messes with Jim’s precisely organized calendar and gets away with it.
Why Don’t You Do Right?: Seb arranges for Molly to get an extra special, early birthday present. Jim gets to learn something new about Molly. And Molly discovers one of Jim’s deepest secrets.
Club Calavera: Downing five zombies doesn’t give Jim the liquid courage he needs to ask Molly a very important question. It only makes him forget that he and Molly are already together.
Happy Birthday, Jimmy Boy: Jim’s never had a good birthday. Molly’s determined to buck the trend. - contains smut
It’s A Nice Day For a [White Wedding]: The wedding of James Moriarty to Molly Hooper can be nothing less than a momentous occasion. In his speech, their best man recounts some of the juicier bits of Jim and Molly’s journey into matrimony.
Cold War: She had to admit Jim was creative. Who else would think to kill three ice cream salesmen from different towns and attach a one-worded note to each corpse, forming the sentence, “Ready to concede?”
My Persuasion Can Build a Nation: In a world where Eurus had a best friend growing up, she doesn’t go to Sherrinford, nor does she turn out as unhinged as she did in canon. However, she’s still Eurus, and her brothers absolutely forbid her from meeting Jim Moriarty. She’ll just have to fix that, won’t she? Also: Matchmaker!Eurus ftw.
What Sober Couldn’t Say: “(11:23 pm) Drinking again(11:24 pm) And since it makes me too sad to go on my blog anymore thanks to you, I figured it’s only fair you become my new place to vent(11:25 pm) You’re probably not receiving these messages anyway so no harm no foul(11:25 pm) Right?” - Molly drunk-texts Jim over the course of several months.
I Wanna Feel Like I Am Floating: “Now the question is…" He vamp-flipped them over so she was lying down and his body was pinning hers. “Should I tie you up and make you take it, or are you going to be a good little vampire and let Daddy have his way with you?” Jim & Molly’s journey: blood-sharing edition.- Vampire!Molliarty AU, s-m-u-t.
Coffin Shopping: Sebastian could only imagine what the other, mostly ancient customers perusing the store must be thinking of the couple in their thirties, bubbling with laughter and fooling around as they ran about in search of the perfect coffin.
Come To Daddy: Jim failed to see how Molly’s physicality could ever not be arousing. The size of her lips did nothing to detract from how amazing she was at sucking cock. The size of her breasts made it no less fun for Jim to cup them in his hands, tease her nipples into hard peaks, suck on them until she squirmed and made those delightful little sounds. - smuttish ;)
Intention: A take on how the brief but unforgettable office romance between Jim from IT and Molly from Pathology began and how it just might become more than just a simple office romance.
An Exchange: Jim Moriarty comes across a familiar face and realises, from just one exchange, that it is not merely Sherlock Holmes that connects them, but a connection of their own.
A Beginning: Jim Moriarty tries to make sense of new waves of sentiment as his office romance with Molly Hooper transits to become something more.
Interruptions: Molly Hooper is made to face a stunning revelation about Jim Moriarty, but it is her reaction that stuns him most.
An Enemy’s Gift: In the pursuit of his greatest enemy, Jim Moriarty makes an unexpected discovery.
On Fanfiction.net:
Life: James Moriarty is in trouble, so much trouble that he fears for his life. He soon learns, however, he has absolutely nothing to fear, not with Molly Hooper around.
Spiders: Molly and Jim have a casual chat laced with hints of their plans, revealing a side to Molly that both surprises and seduces Jim.
(Re)kindle: Jim Moriarty is perplexed at the lasting impression a certain Molly Hooper has left on him. When his rekindled fascination with her meets an unexpected obstacle, an animosity is ignited.
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