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christinebloodwrittings · 6 months ago

Note

Hi, I was wondering if you could do an Alastor x Reader, where Reader and Alastor are about to get married, but the day before their wedding, Alastor mysteriously disappears. On their bed lays a note: “I’m sorry, I had to leave.”?

Heart in debt

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader Summary: "Until death do us apart" turned into a "Until I see you again in hell", when Alastor, for unknown reasons, decided to become a runaway groom. Warnings: Gore, bit of angst.

Sorry for the delay dearest, this work took 4 drafts and a lot of re-write, I hope the result is to your liking :3.

The venue was reserved in advance, your mother had chosen the perfect location for you. The catering service was already paid for, as was the florist, band and cake.

Everything was ready.

Looking back, as you finished getting ready for bed, with your nerves on edge, you remembered how your parents reacted when you told them you were getting married.

The best couple ever, welcomed your fiancé, Alastor, as if they had recognized the plague made person. The permanent smile, the aura of death, and well, something they saw in him made them act defensively.

However, of course, your father loved you more than anything in life, so since the ring was of high quality, he had a house on his name, he could provide for you and assure you a future with children, he had no choice but to swallow his opinions and daydream the day when you say he can shoot his brains out.

It was distasteful to you that your father wanted to kill your fiancé, but you knew he loved you and as long as he was with you, Alastor would be fine.

And he was waiting in bed, with his glasses on the edge of his nose, busy with a book. "Excuse me, madam, but if you hold the rifle like that, you will hurt yourself due to the force of the recoil" you remembered your first interaction, his voice was as soft as silk, manners polished up to perfection.

“Then, what would you say is the best way?” you suspected he was going to say something mannish and arrogant, most man didn’t believed women could do nothing except cooking and breed children, judging by the eat shitting grin he was wearing, you were expecting the worst sexist comment.

Instead he asked your permission to help you, after you said yes, he gently moved your arms upwards to accommodate your position, then gently pulled sideways your hips, “Your support leg must be straight and tight, strong, otherwise you will fall back” then a rustle in the bushes alerted both of you, a white back deer.

“You can do it, aim” he encouraged you, watching the majestic prongs of the deer appear at the distance, “Breathe, don’t rush” his breath on your ear sent a shiver up your spine, “Now!” he spoke, you pulled the trigger, he held you during the push back, that kind of rifle was far too intense, even for him, but it had the enough power to kill the animal just fine.

“Do I have something on my face, dear?” he noticed your stare, smiling softly. You walked to him, pecking his cheek softly, “Now there is” he chuckled, setting his book on the nightstand, then he opened his arms to you, which were soon filled with your figure.

"I can't wait for us to be one" you snuggled against his chest, "Me neither, dearest" he pulled you closer, your hair ticking his nose. "At this hour tomorrow I'll be Mrs. Hartfield, I wish your mother were here to enjoy with us" his mom had passes away when he was a kid, but since your mother was friends with her, you got faint memories of the sweet woman that had raised your soon-to-be husband.

"She probably would have made a joyride out of the planning" his sarcasm got you giggling, "You're so mean" He kissed your temple, enjoying your laughter, "Rather honest, darling".

Nothing could go wrong at the moment, you were in cloud nine, until you woke up and noticed Alastor was gone. It was weird, usually he wouldn't move out of bed until you did.

“My love, I'm sorry, I had to leave. I realized I'm not ready. I'll be sending you money to compensate for the expenses. I'm sorry” Signed with his name, his calligraphy on a piece of paper next to his spot.

"Mamma?" You held the telephone life for dear life, barely holding on, "Did something happened my dear? You sound distressed" yes you were, also were under every type of weather, "He left, he left me a letter, and his clothes are gone" You chocked out on your words, tears falling onto your nightgown.

"Like full closet gone?" At her question you yelled back that he was gone, your heart shattered when you took notice that he even took his radio with him.

"I'll be there in just a moment; I'll make some calls okay?" She reassured you, "What happened?" You father spoke in the background, "Alastor left your daughter on her wedding day" Your mother tried to as delicate as she could, "Bastard! Don't worry baby, if he decides to come back, he's good as dead" he made the click of his shotgun sound against the phone, "I knew that son of a bitch was no good for my princess" he shouted.

"Maybe I did something wrong" you sobbed, "No sweetie, how can you think that? The lad wasn't ready, is no one's fault" Your mother tried to reassured you, but truth to be told, nothing could console you at that moment.

You refused to abandon his house, it was briefly yours before he went away, but the real reason was, that you still had some hope he would at some point come back. When he never did, you abandoned the house to live with your parents.

One night, returning late from your make up job at the speakeasy, you felt a rush, a cold feeling up your spine. Looking into the glass on the other side of the street, you caught the sight of a man, walking fast behind you.

Speeding up the pace, you ventured yourself into the swamp, the bayou. You knew Alastor had a hunting shed where you could at least arm yourself, you only had to run faster. Your heels at one point buried themselves in the mud, you had to continue on foot, a plus point since despite the stones and thorns on the way, you managed to reach the place.

You heard the paces even nearer, in a hurry you forced the lock to break, then took a rifle off the table inside, put three bullets in the chamber, then when the silhouette of your stalker opened up the door, he saw the end of the cannon pointing straight at his head.

“Turn back, leave!” your voice echoed through the trees, the wind eating up your voice quickly, “I will not repeat myself” you threatened, pulling the safety mechanism, “Poor little doll, you think you’re capable to-“ shakily, you fired, he was taken aback, nearly fallen to the ground.

“YOU WHORE!” he yelled, pressing a hand to his shoulder, “Leave, now” the rush that firing him gave you, was a sensation you couldn’t describe. It sent a shock of pleasure down your spine, you liked that feeling, even more so, when the one scared now, was him.

“Human scum” you aimed at his head, “See you in hell” his eyes took a less sharp look, his rage turned into fear, then absolute nothingness wrapped in blood.

Karma was a very ironic lady, when you pulled the man’s body to the lake, you tripped on an underwater root, your body barely above water caught the attention of a beast, and sooner than later, you were devoured by an alligator.

One man, one bloodlust rush sent you to hell.

A hundred years or so, after that incident, after surviving another extermination, hidden in a box in the closet. You felt a presence, something following you, you turned a corner, gun in hand, prepared to defend yourself if necessary.

When the footsteps stopped on the other side of the building, a shadow peeked its face towards you, the smile he was wearing was an amused one, especially when he saw you pointing the gun at him.

A slight unusual sound, seemingly a laugh, followed by its hand taking yours, only to leave a gentle kiss on your knuckles. “Rather dashing, are you not?” your fear was not yet dissipated, but it was so gentle, offering its arm to walk you down the street.

“I’ve been eager to salute you, though I must say, you are rather hard to find” his voice was merely a whisper, “Am I supposed to know who you are?” he stopped in his tracks, “My most sincere apologies, but I don’t own a name, I’m simply a reflection, a shadow of a man” it seemed sad, yet conscious of its existence.

“Does this man, who’s footsteps you should be following, knows me?” he nodded in response, following by a quiet “He does”. You thought back how many men you have consorted with, who might have access or knowledge of umbrakinesis, none came to your mind.

“Am I to be afraid of his intentions?” as any other man you have encountered, you’ve never been able to shake the fear, always having to have a gun attached to your waist, “He has none, he thinks he has hurt you enough, with his sudden absence” he had been prohibited to utter the incident, but he found a way to do so anyways without actually saying ‘Alastor left you, and it pains him every day’.

“Alastor” his name fell off your lips like hasn’t done before, in quite a while, “Will he agree to see me?” you asked, wanting at least an explanation, “He’s not the man you remember” the shadow warned, but you were persistent, “I’d like to see him, if he has a moment he can gift me”.

His nonexistent heart shook in his chest, “I’ll see what I can do” that sentence alone brought you more hope than anything in the world, “Can you do me one more favor? I’ll see that you get compensated” now in your home, you took paper and pen, at the same time that you took a tiny bag off one of your drawers.

“This are three pure gold coins, Spanish ones, Cortéz brought this ones himself” you placed the bag on its hand, “I hope you accept this as payment, to pass him a letter?” he nodded watching you take your quill and start writing to him.

When you were done, you melted a bit of candle wax, sealing your heart in that page, then he left with the letter.

“My dearest friend.

How the time has treated us, I hope will never know. If there was a god up there I shall thank him, for it brought you back to me somehow, however subtle presence that is.

Have you seen the changes? Are you still pursuing your ambitions? How have you been all these years? Many questions flooded my mind, as soon as your name was brought to me for the first time in a century.

If it’s not too much of a bother, I would like to see you, an hour is all I desire.”

I’ll await your answer, in whichever mean you see fit.

While reading the letter, Alastor made a pause, his eyes burning with the old feeling, the same crushing one he was hunted by ever since he left under the mantle of the night.

“I am not mad at you, I just wish for clearance, closure.

Happy to make your acquaintance whenever you’d like.

Sincerely, Y/n.”

��Take the package with you, and make sure she’s safe” he ordered his shadow, who flew a couple days later to your doorstep.

A box, laced with a red ribbon. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw a radio inside, engraved with flowers and birds in the most exquisite wood that hell could offer. On top of it, there was a note that read “Play me”.

You sat by the fireplace, leaving the radio on the tea table, your shadow friend taking seat beside you while you push the button that was marked.

“One, two, three, testing? Can you hear me, my dear?” his voice was slightly different, there was a lot of static, but you wondered if that was his or the radio’s. “Yes, I can” yours was a melody he had yearn to be blessed with for years, “Wonderful, I had received your letter” your stomach was in tangles, awaiting his thoughts.

“I do wish to see you, but I have something to tell you first, that may be quite daunting” your breath was caught in your throat, “Go on” you inquired, “The reason why I couldn’t marry you is due my activities in the woods, I am a killer and a cannibal, bringing pain to others grant me pleasure like no other” he laid the truth as plain as it could be, giving that he couldn’t see your eyes directly.

“Oh thank god” he was taken aback by your giggly sigh, “I thought you a…you know, someone that fancy other men” he laughed as well, he found the assumption ridiculous, also he thought strange that you’re so unfazed by his confession.

“You are glad?” you took a moment to find an answer without sounding like you’ve gone mad, “Alastor, are you a man that stalk women down to alleys to feast on their screams?” he answered a firm no to your question, “Are you a man that defiles other women?” another no.

“Do you enjoy killing the scoundrels you hated so much, bullies, the ones that take advantage of the ones with fairer means?” he took a second to pridefully answer “Yes”, you took the shadow’s hand as if it was his, “Then your mother and I can rest in peace, as cruel as you may be Alastor, you still hold your morals high, I cannot say the same regarding your honor” he laughed at the mention of the latter.

“Did the cat caught your tongue?” he had fell silent for a minute, “No, I haven’t been at a loss of words in a while, is all” the shadow nuzzled against your hand, moving it so it could cup his cheek, “Can I pay you a penny for your thoughts? I think I might be saying it wrong; the young ones say it a lot” you giggled, adding to the ache in his heart.

“I didn’t expect you to be alright with it, it leads me to wonder, why are you down here?” you decided to be just as honest as he was, “I killed a man that had ill intentions towards me, and I liked it a little too much” his smile grew devilishly.

“Did he suffer?” if not, he was going to hunt him to grant the man a second demise, one he would ensure he would regret choosing you as his target. “The fear in his eyes, brought a smile to my face” oh he could not be more in love, he made a wise decision to send the radio, if he had you in front of him, he would’ve devour you entirely.

“How did you died?” he made a silent pray, with some hope that at least your death would not have been painful, “I was alligator food in the bayou, in an attempt to get rid of the body, September 4th, 1929” oh how that fact made a twist in his stomach, just like himself, you were eaten alive.

“I am sorry” you laughed, “For what? Your shed was the most convenient, I killed him with your hunting rifle, like you taught me” he remembered, it was the first time he felt actual pleasure in someone else’s warmth, “I can now stop regretting introducing you to the art of the hunt” the shadow placed a kiss on your temple, “Very much so”.

He felt your skin on his lips from within the connection with the sentient, “Will you join me tomorrow, for tea? I’m helping to rise a hotel with hell’s princess” oh so that’s where he was hiding around, you thought, “Fancy, I must be the one warning you now, I do not look…pleasant, I died in a swamp so I wear that fact in the form of my skin” you admitted.

Water nymphs were pretty, you were somewhat that, only more inclined to an eel. You had a long thin fin for hair, red-yellow spotty skin, sharp teeth, light brown scales covering your hips and torso, not to mention your clear blue eyes, not a choice of color but rather a blind looking hue, much like an eel.

“Mon coeur, rest assure, I am more concerned of your reaction towards myself” he was to the limit of nearly arranging an emergency visit to Rosie’s for a new wardrobe, “I cannot wait to see you” until you spoke that lovely sentence, “Nor can I, my dear”.

The next day, without a wink of sleep, Alastor creeped behind the princes, after making the many preparations up in his personal bayou. “Charlie, I have a request” he purred, attempting to mask his excitement, “Sure Al, what is it?” the question pinched a curious itch in the princess, “Yeah, you rarely ask for things” added the fallen exterminator.

“I’ll have a guest today, one that I hold in high regards, so I’ll be excused to my room” excitement also brew in the princess itch, “Sure thing Al, no worries” she cheerly smiled at him. It seemed the fact he had company also touched the spider’s curiosity, or rather, surprise.

“Smiles got a date?” he looked in quite shock towards the feline bartender, who could do nothing more than scoff, “That’s impossible, it must be another soul he wants to own” he soon swallowed his own words given that Alastor materialized next to him, “Husker! Your best whiskey please” the way he utter the name of the former overlord was a warning laced with a threat.

Later that afternoon, a knock made Charlie sprint towards the door, outrunning Niffty. “Hello, I’m Y/n, lovely to meet you, I’m here to see Alastor” you courtesy at the sight of the princess of hell, “Of course, come, come” who eagerly took your hand and pulled you inside, “He’ll be down in a minute”.

She had you sat in the lobby, with the company of Angel and Vaggie, “Sorry if I’m too curious, but how do you know Alastor?” Charlie began the small talk, ever so politely, “If he’s as mysterious as he was in life, your curiosity is well within your right, he’s a dearest friend of mine” the princess was impressed to know her host had more friends than that sleazy woman, Mimzy.

“Aww, how nice!” she also told you that there was no need for any more manners towards her, though you insisted giving the way you were taught ever since you were a child.

“Y/n” your name rolled off his tongue like the beginning of a poem, “Alastor” you turned your head around, before standing up, watching closely as he would not break eye contact with you, as he made his way around the couch.

“Now those two were not just friends” Vaggie had a sly smile on her face, “That sexual tension is delicious” Angel added watching just how slowly Alastor brought your hand up to lay a kiss on your fingers. Your chest rising noticeably from your tight corset, the excitement was palpable indeed.

“Well if I must atone to the intrigue, she was my fiancé” an audible gasp filled the room, “Now, if you’ll excuse us” since never let go of your hand, he was able to swiftly place it on his forearm as he guided you to the stairs, “Princess, bye friends” you curtsied as you followed him along.

He had arranged a white set of garden table and chairs, an ensemble of various sweets and meat treats displayed, along with a set of cups and plates in a remarkable shade of blue.

“Oh, Alastor this is exquisite! You shouldn’t have” you knew the meat was for him, he was never a fan of sweets, but you were, “Of course I had, please have a seat” he pulled your seat for you, pushing it ever so gently when you were already seated.

“Always so gallant” pride rose to his face in the form of a subtle rose color, he managed to hide it when his shadow came from a corner to give you a hug, “Oh hello you, he’s so cute, how come he doesn’t have a name?” if you didn’t knew better you would’ve thought that Alastor had gone green from envy, seeing his shadow receive more pets and attention than himself.

“It didn’t cross my mind, he wants you to do so” he sat in front of you as his tone grew bitter, “Alistair would be repetitive, I think William is the best bet” it intoned a purr, your hands caressing the base of its ears, “He likes it”.

He took the time you were distracted to prepare your cup of tea, adding just the right amount of sugar and mint leaves, that gesture brought your attention back to him, “You remember how I like my tea?” he had done that almost as a reflex, “Somethings never leave the mind” he admitted almost impressed with himself.

“You don’t look half as bad as your warning” you scoffed at his confession, “Don’t lie” you rolled your eyes earning a laugh from him, “I’m not”, but even with his sincerity you were conscious of your appearance, “Alastor, I’m part fish, I have scales, for crying out loud” from across the table he took your hand in his, “And I’m a deer, so? Could be worse” he had a point, you had seen the dreadful appearance of some rat demons, “Uhm, maybe you’re right”.

“Why did you leave?” after a long silence, accompanied by the sounds of the bayou, you decided to break the peace, addressing the ‘elephant in the room’. “I was afraid I would hurt you; you knew my step-father and now, my affairs” you were aware he had been raised by the end of a whip due to the monster his mother married, who you briefly met when your mother had tea with his.

“Alastor, you could never” he may be a killer, but you were certain he would never raise a hand to harm you, “You don’t know that, I am this, Y/n” it was your turn to give him a reassuring squeeze to his hand, “Did you loved me?” his eyes, quite more honest than the permanent smile he wore, widen to your question.

“I would’ve done anything to prevent harm from coming your way” you scoffed, “Yes, but did you loved me?” he let go of a breath he had trapped down in his lungs when he finally admitted the truth: “I still do”, but there was more to it, “I feel as…as if I had a debt to you, one I have no idea how to repay, nothing I think is enough” and indeed he had a mental list, burning hell to the ground was the top one choice.

“Is your hand one of the options? Your heart, perhaps?” the wish to wipe his head on the pavement had vanished a long time ago, forgiveness was perhaps the toughest thing to accomplish, but your pride wasn’t that big.

“Is not enough” he shook his head, believing that his heart was either too small or nonexistent, “It would, with time, you do owe me a century” you didn’t wanted to let go of his hand, it was the first long contact from him on years, “I’m…not worthy of you” he tortured himself ten times more than hell already did, but you just shrugged, “Who is then, if it’s not you?”.

“You didn’t marry anyone after I left?” you certainly didn’t, “No” he had imagine you at least could love someone again, be happy, “Why?” but you held him in your heart until the very day you died, “Silly hope” that broke him, if he had a choice, his smile would’ve fade in a heartbeat.

“I’m sorry” he pulled gently of your hand, leading to sit across his lap, “Water under the bridge” he delight himself in your hand caressing his cheek, lightly, almost asking for permission, when unknowingly he was yours.

“Not for me” he pressed his ears to the back of his head, allowing you to caress him, as his arms hugged your figure close to his chest. “We have eternity, if you’ll have me” he was so glad you mentioned that option, it gave him the opportunity to pull from his pocket a beautiful diamond ring, rose gold.

“Your mother’s ring?” you were in shock at the same time as excited, yet scared as well, “Will you leave again?” he cupped your cheek, placing a kiss near the corner of your mouth, “Hell will freeze over first” you imitated his gesture, “Then, you can ask” his smile softened.

“Y/n, will you marry me?” just as he slipped the ring on your finger, you whispered in his ear, “I’ll have your head if you leave again, yes” sending a shiver down his spine, “Please do” a kiss sealed the engagement just like the first time he had ask.

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nova-is-a-writer-now · 3 months ago

Text

Hidden Embers

Series summary: You return to your home state the summer after graduating college. The relentless Texas heat, the suburban southern bubble and your treacherous relationship with your mom give you the feeling this will be a long summer. That's until Joel Miller enters the picture.

Summary: Your welcome-back party brings a re-encounter with one of your dad’s old friends, one you don’t remember looking so good.

A/N: Hello strangers, haven't seen you in a long long time. This is something that's been on the works for months now. Ideally, I wanted to put this series out when I had a good enough chunk of the story finished since I'm the most undecisive person ever. However, I wanna start posting some chapters on here as I go and then post the full completed thing on AO3. I will warn you though, it is very likely that as I write the story, I will keep on making some changes to previously posted chapters just so in the end it all makes sense and it's cohesive, I will let you guys know whenever there has been a major change. Take this as me asking the tumblr girlies to beta read this series before i publish it over on AO3. In any case, I hope the ones who decide to start reading here instead of waiting for the full thing enjoy it very much, I'm very open to suggestions, opinions and constructive critisism. :)

Warnings: Age-gap (Reader is 22, Joel is 46), Dbf!Joel, mommy issues

It was your first summer back home after graduation. The relentless Texas heat was bringing memories from your childhood that had been buried away until now, some of them felt more like dreams at this point. You had never been too good with the heat, but spending four years in chilly, gloomy New England had certainly birthed a new appreciation for it.

You weren’t sure you wanted to come back and stay for the entire summer, but your southern-to-the-core mother has a knack for getting her way. Something about “You were away for four whole years, I’m sure you can spare us a couple months before you jump right into a job in god knows where. Who knows? Maybe you’ll end up moving back and finding something around here, a nice guy to settle down with and finally get your life going.”

God forbid.

Naturally, in true southern fashion, your parents had to make your graduation celebration a neighborhood affair. A big barbeque, with all the nice people your parents grew up with, went to highschool and college with, who married and had kids with each other. People who haven’t, a day in their lives, given a single thought to what might exist outside of their perfect suburban bubbles.

You weren’t trying to act ungrateful – it was a celebration of one of your most important milestones after all. People were coming together to congratulate you and your achievements. But if it were up to you, none of them would have been invited and you wouldn’t have celebrated it like this. Honestly, you missed the trips you used to take with your dad as a kid, all the way out in the countryside. Just the two of you for a week during the summer, staying in an old cabin that creaked and shook whenever your steps were too heavy. You don't remember why you stopped going, but you wished you still did. It would have been a much nicer celebration.

None of today’s guests knew you as anything other than your parent’s daughter, the shiny new thing your mother was choosing to show off. You knew that’s how it was gonna be the second your mother told you there was no point in attending your college’s graduation party, why would you when they could make you your own celebration back home with all the nice neighborhood people instead of a room full of strangers?

Your dad had good intentions, you knew that… deep, deep down. But it had always just been the three of you, and even when it was blatantly obvious your mother was in the wrong, even when there was no way of justifying her behavior, he still stood behind her, echoing her words.

And that's how you ended up here, prepping food for your own graduation barbeque, decorating your own garden, cleaning up your own house so it would be squeaky clean for people you hadn’t seen in well over a decade. It’s what a “Do it for me, i’ll make it up to you I promise. The community is just really important to your mom” from your dad gets out of you.

You had probably been looking at yourself for a good twenty minutes now. Nothing you tried on felt quite right. It was either too formal, too casual, too revealing or too childish. This was a direct consequence of moving out of the south at the ripe age of 10; No one in Virginia taught you how to dress for a neighborhood barbeque.

Last minute you land on a blue sundress, delicate white flowers scattered around, long enough to cover your knees but not enough to make you look like you just walked out of Sunday school. You took that as a win.

At the sound of your mother loudly complaining about no one in the house ever helping (a comment undoubtedly directed at you), you decide to drag yourself downstairs. The sooner you get this party started, the sooner you could be done with it.

Rushing down the stairs, distractedly gathering your hair up with a tie, you unexpectedly bump into something – or rather someone.

"Easy, there. Where's the fire?"

That familiar voice… same old Joel Miller. A few more grays overpowering the darkness of his hair, a couple more wrinkles here and there and a deeper tan painting his skin a more caramel-y shade. But it was still him.

You knew very little about Joel, just that he was your dad’s best friend for as long as you could remember. The periodic phone calls they filled with hour-long football discussions, the christmas cards exchanged and birthday wishes texted. You remember him being around the house a lot before moving out of Texas, although the specifics of it escape your memory.

Now he’s standing right in front of you, firm hands holding you by your arms to make sure you won't lose your balance, and you’re faced with the fact that twenty-two-year-old you might be seeing Joel Miller through a different lens.

Your brain isn’t really doing what it’s meant to do, which in this exact moment would be produce an acceptable response for the six-foot-something man with broad shoulders, dark brooding eyes and a musky, woody scent that made you wanna… No. Focus.

“I am so sorry, I didn’t even see you there… I didn’t think anyone would arrive until five.” you finally reply to his expectant stare.

“No need to be sorry.” He says back, letting go of your arms once he’s sure you’re able to stand on your own. “Well, welcome home. Haven’t seen you since you were running around in mermaid tees”

Yeah, now seemed like the right time to look for a hole in the ground to crawl into.

“Oh, that’s not fair, I grew out of my mermaid phase long before we moved. I was well into boyband territory last time you saw me” you try to joke your way through the conversation, hoping the burning sensation crawling up to your cheeks isn’t as obvious as it feels.

The embarrassment of the moment would have churned your insides for much longer if Joel's mouth hadn't quirked up in a charming smirk, so captivating it was hard to believe he wasn't aware of its effect.

That on its own was already causing some conflicting feelings to boil up inside you, but then he had the nerve to let out a small chuckle he seemed to have been trying to hold back. He was chuckling... Texas’ resident grump was chuckling at your joke, which wasn't even that funny if we’re being fully earnest. Why did you like that thought so much?

You were about to say something, anything really, in a shameless attempt to see if you could earn one more of those, when your mother's approaching voice snapped you out of the haze.

“Are you gonna make me drag you in here, or will you do me the courtesy of helping out... Oh, goodness me! Joel! I didn’t hear you come in, you’re here early.” She switched gears faster than a professional racer. Suddenly, she was back to being the neighborhood’s sweetheart, her voice dripping with that sickly sweet drawl.

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry for the intrusion,” Joel replies, slipping back into his usual, almost stiff demeanor. Whatever new side you had seen of him a second ago was quickly gone. “Hank asked me to drop by a bit earlier to bring him the grill. Said mine’s better suited for the amount of meat he’s buying.”

“Oh, how that man refuses to listen. I told him we didn’t need that much meat. I'm making a whole lotta side dishes,” she whines, waving her hand dismissively. “Well, I guess everyone will be taking leftovers home then. Hank went over to the store to grab me some stuff I was missing. He should be back in a heartbeat.” She glances back at you and, in that passive-aggressive tone that almost anybody else would miss, said, “Well, sweetheart, don’t just stand there. Go help Joel unload his grill and show him what a good host you are.”

It was only your third day back home. Somehow, four years of freedom had made living in this household even more unbearable.

Smile, turn around, walk away. Choose your peace, choose your peace, choose your peace.

Heavy footsteps echo yours all the way to the garage, where Joel's truck waited. You let him walk past you to unlock the tailgate. “Your mom hasn’t changed one bit, has she?” Joel says distractedly while grabbing some metal pieces that looked like parts of his grill.

“Oh, if you only knew.” you say back, trying your best to conceal the sharpness of your tone.

He hands you the cold metal parts, surprisingly lighter than you anticipated. You were convinced he only made you carry them to let you feel useful. “Believe me, I know. Known your mom since way before you were even a thought runnin’ through her mind.”

Right. Because Joel happens to be your parents’ age and over twice your senior. One of the many reasons why getting distracted by the way his muscles flexed while picking up the grill was so beyond wrong.

“You uh… you still live a few houses up the street?” You asked, trying your best to redirect your reckless thoughts.

“Same old house.” He replies with a slightly strained voice from carrying the weight. Once he set it down in the backyard, he turned around to take the pieces you were holding onto. “Renovated some of it, built a new pool out back.”

“That sounds nice, might have to check it out sometime.” You said it without even thinking much. What compelled you to think it was acceptable to tell a man you haven't seen in over a decade you would like to ‘check out’ his pool, was beyond you.

You thought Joel would chuckle it off or maybe not even acknowledge it, which he would’ve been well within his right to do, but he looked up to you from his leaning position next to the grill and said “Yeah, I think you might.”

You couldn’t shake off Joel’s words throughout the whole afternoon.

First chance you got to zone out in between introductions, awkward small talk and getting asked the same thing for the thousandth time, your mind drifted back to Joel’s words.

He was just being polite, right? He has always been a gentleman after all. Maybe it was just the southern hospitality in him, maybe he didn’t even mean it and was just trying to be nice.

Yeah, I think you might

You were probably just reading too much into it, but the way he said it seemed like a lot more than just being polite. Or, and this is a very big possibility, it’s been way too long since you’ve let anyone take you to bed and you’re latching onto the first man who looks your way.

You try to distract your brain with the old lady in front of you instead, who’s been chatting you up about her four cats for over fifteen minutes. She’s surprisingly nice but you think you’d be enjoying her chatter a lot more if your mind wasn’t so distracted.

She notices as much. “You doin’ alright there, sweetheart?”

You brush it off as best as you can. “Oh, I'm alright. I just think the trip and the unpacking is finally catching up to me.” You stand up from the lawn chair you’d been lounging on. “I’ll go grab myself a drink, can I grab you anything?”

She smiles sweetly up at you and replies “No, sweetness, you go ahead.”

The chatter outside dulls out as you close the glass doors behind you. You don’t bother turning on the kitchen overhead lights, relying only on light seeping in from the back yard.

The chill from the fridge hits your chest as you crack the door open to grab a can of coke. Just as you pop the tab, a shadow leaning against the door frame makes you jump.

“Jesus, give a girl a warning.” you say bringing your hand to your chest trying to slow your heartbeat back down.

“Sorry darlin’, didn’t mean to scare you.” Joel's voice comes from the shadow

Darlin’ ? Lord, were you screwed.

You hoped the dim lighting was doing enough to hide the burning red that was probably staining your cheeks already, especially since Joel was pushing off of the door frame and walking over to you.

“Needed a break from the crowd too?” you ask softly, cutting through the quiet.

The corner of his lips curves up in one of his killer smirks and you can already tell that’s gonna be one of your favorite things about him. “You readin’ me like a book.”

You give him a tiny smile and take a sip of your Coke, the cold liquid a welcome distraction. “I thought you’d be manning the grill.”

He grumbles softly, the sound reverberating in his chest. “Hank’s got it covered for now. Figured I’d come check on you.”

You look up at him confused. “Check on me? Why?”

He shrugged, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. “Just wanted to make sure you’re doing alright. This can’t be easy, coming back after all this time.”

More than the charming smirks or the pet names or the indecipherable jabs, this knocked the air out of your chest. You were so used to everyone telling you how lucky you were, how wonderful your parents were and how great it was they could put you through college, how perfect of a life you had and how easy it seemed for you to deal with it all. You get it, that’s how it looked from the outside and you didn’t blame people for thinking that. But the truth was you had just become shockingly skilled at hiding your struggles, pretending you had everything under control and plastering a big, dazzling smile on your face.

Somehow, in the few hours that Joel has been around you, at least in this past decade, he managed to see right through this smoke screen you’ve been building your entire life to keep people from seeing what’s going on inside.

It leaves you speechless for a second. “Oh, um…” you can’t take your eyes off of him now, far too unconcerned to notice if you’re staring. “It’s been… exhausting and a bit hectic but, you know... I’m alright. Thank you for asking, Joel.” His name slips out of your lips so easily, like you could picture yourself saying it over and over again without ever burning out.

He looks down, almost like he isn’t used to doing this either, like he’s searching for something else to say. Then his hoarse voice breaks through the silence “Well, if you’re not, you know where to find me.”

With one last glance, a lingering one at that, Joel turns back and leaves where he came from. Like he didn’t just tip your entire world out of balance.

And you’re left there in the dark, trying to figure out what the hell this feeling on your chest is and why, on god's green earth, your father’s best friend won’t leave your head.

#joel miller #joel x reader #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #tlou #tlou joel #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #Hidden embers

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screaminglygay · 1 year ago

Text

KINKTOBER day 5

pairing: ghostface! sam carpenter x fem!reader

summary: you and sam are besties, but do you tell each other everything? (what is this? i dunno)

warnings: smut!!!, dom!sam x sub!reader, sam is a big meanie for a little, spanking, degradation, dirty talk, swearing, killing mentioned, tiny bit of knife play, slapping, crying, not proofread, if anything else, let me know - I’ll add it

word count: 4.4k

an: enjoy I guess, let me know your opinions, also thanks for so much support with wanda, tbh I though that it won’t do this great, but it did and all of you are so horny freaks, including myself, but truly I appreciate it!!!💕💕

(italics = your thoughts)

!MDNI!

Enjoy this spooky season and be safe!

The phone rings again, hidden caller. Picking up a secret number is really not your style. You let it ring, if they truly need you, they will write you a message.

Buzz.

Oh and they do need something important. You take your phone and look at the notification.

Hidden number

8:36PM

Call me ASAP, please! I can´t open the excel!

You calmed down a little bit as it was probably your classmate and accidentaly made their phone number hidden. Taking a deep breath before calling someone was always your go to thing, since the whole situation is very stressfull, you´d much rather write a long paragraph over a text, then just call someone. But since it´s about school, you´re less nervous.

You finger touch the last missed call and it starts to ring, as soon as you see that the other side picked it up, you started to speak.

"Hey! Sorry, I didn´t hear the phone. Anyways what´s going on with that file?" You took your notebook in case you have to make step by step tutorial to your classmate, because it wouldn´t be for the first time.

"No one ever told you lying is bad, (Y/N)?" You didnt recognize the voice, it wasn´t a voice you remember anyone having from your class, or the whole school. It was deep, raspy and mostly scary. You didn´t like horrors very much, but you were positive that you´ll get prank called or jumpscared by some idiot. And here they are, idiot on the line, at least that´s what you think.

"Haha very funny..." You´re mostly annoyed, but there is this side of little you, who is hoping this is truly your idiot classmate and no one else. "Do you wanna help with the sheet or not?"

Long big sigh can be heard on the other side. "And I thought you were a nice girl, (Y/N). Guess I was wrong. Don´t worry, we´ll work on that."

Now your little scary thought became a little bit bigger. You weren´t so sure it was someone you know.

"Who am I speaking with? Sorry, I don´t have your number added." You hoped they would say your name, you would stop panicking and it would be done it two minutes.

"Someone who likes to play games. (Y/N), would you like to play a game?" the raspy voice asked.

"No, thank you." Out of nervousness and mostly fear you hang up. You didn´t even realize until you stoped hearing the rapsy breath. Even if there was a truly a classmate who wanted a help, they shouldn´t prankcall you. Gosh how much you hated these things.

The phone didn´t ring again for quite some time, so you just let it go. Taking a long shower sounded like the best idea now. Out of the closet you took oversized shirt and some shorts and you headed to the bathroom. Doing your usual skin care routine went on automatic and brushing your teeth as well.

Coming back to your room, you notice that you left your closet opened, you sigh and close the door. Being too tired to prepare your clothes for tomorrows school day. As you lay on your bed, you hug your big teddy bear and your eyes immedietly close as you drift to sleep.

...

The next day goes smooth, first lecture was actually really interesting and you didn´t felt tired at all. You had your morning coffee and today was just a good day, you could feel it. You didn´t have those in a while, so it is very welcome.

Second lecture was indeed boring, but at least you know that the human eye blinks an average of 4 200 000 times a year, which is... a new information, that´s for sure. But the professor ended class sooner, so at least you had more time for lunch. And that´s a plus.

As you´re sitting alone, eating your lunch on a bench in a park, where you like to spend your free time between the classes, someone taps on your shoulder.

"Oh hi, Sam!" You smile, seeing your friend always makes your day better. "What are you doing here, I thought you´re working today." You scoop so Sam can sit next to you.

Sam met you when you were running late, literally. You two bumped into each other few months ago and because you spilled your coffee on her, you just had to pay for it somehow. So after you quickly gave her your number and basically sprinted out, Sam made sure you´ll keep your promise. And you did, few days after that you two met again and over a coffee realized how much things you two have in common.

She seemed like a cold and closed of person at first, but she is actually the sweetest teddy bear, as you like to call her for fun. Sam told you many times she hated it, but you made a good points that she is just so sweet, big and you feel safe when you´re around her, just like with teddy bear in your bed. And she was a taller than you, so that´s another point. After few "arguments" she actually let you win, so she is now your big and protective teddy bear.

You two started to hang out more and more, which just confirms your initial click, that Sam felt as soon as she laid her eyes on your sweet and innocent face.

"Well maybe I lied and I wanted to suprise you." Sam answers as she sits next to you.

"I am surprised," you giggle. "I have like a hour and something before my next lecture, so..." You look at your phone.

"Good." Sam smiles and tilts her head, she notices that you´re smiling ear to ear. "What got you smiling like that, (Y/N)?"

"Hm... nothing in particular, but it´s just a good day. And I´m enjoying a every single bit of it." You answer and your cheeks start to hurt a bit from all the smiling, you did in the last 10 minutes.

"Oh, I see. As you should." She nudges your arm with hers. "What are you doing after school?"

"I have to finish some excel to my statistic class, but besides that... nothing." Your thoughts are taking you back to last night and your weird call, with who you thought was your classmate.

Sam notices your smile fading and put her hand on your thigh, something she did pretty often, but it brings you butterflies everytime. "(Y/N)?"

"Hm? Yeah?" Sam just raises her eyebrow. "It´s nothing, I just had this weird person from school call me yesterday and... yeah, it was weird. A stupid prankcall." You roll your eyes.

Sam move her hand on your thigh up and down, trying to sooth you. "What did they say?"

"Just some stupid stuff, like do you want to play a game. Do I look like I want to play a game?" You sigh.

"Depends on the game. Horor game? Probably not. The Sims 4? Absolutely yes." Sam chuckles as you punch her arm.

"Every woman has her needs, mine is playing The Sims. Can you blame me?" You laugh, Sam always helps you with your bad and anxious thoughts.

The rest of your free time you two shared a lots of laughs, smiles and overall a good quality time together. Until you had to go back to your lectures, which made your day a little worse, since you wanted to keep talking to Sam.

...

Few hours later you finally finished all of your lectures for the day. You didn´t have that energy boost as you did this morning, but you´re still in a good mood. So you decided to walk from school back to your dorm. And even if it was October, it was still kinda warm outside so you put some soft music on and decided to walk.

Stepping into your dorm you notice that something is bad, you can´t point a finger on what it is, but the vibe seems off. Shaking off the feeling didn´t help for long, because as soon as you reach for your keys the ligh on the other side of the hall just turn off.

"Shit!" You flinch and your hands start to shake. As you succesfully get inside you lock your door faster than ever.

"Oh my god-" you take a few deep breaths. "It was just a light, (Y/N), everything is good. It was just a light." Mumbling out loud these words, in hopes that it will calm you down.

You turn all of your lights in your home on as a prevention for your mind from creating something that is not there. Lastly you go to your bedroom and open the door, you stop in your track in a moment when your eyes met a tall black figure next to your opened closet.

A cold shivers run down your spine, but with confidence it´s just your mind playing tricks you turn on the light even there.

But that choice just showed you, that this time, it´s not your mind playing tricks, but there is actually someone in your house. A tall black silluete turned into a big person with a black cloak and a white mask, looking like a ghost. You´ve seen this mask many times during Halloween parties. Quickly scanning the person you notice that they´re holding a knife. A knife!

"Oh fuck!" You qiuckly close your bedroom door, hoping you will get more time, but of course you had to lock all of your locks and jumping from a window was not an option since you´re living in the 9th floor.

Shit, shit, shit. Wait... I don´t hear anything.

The only thing that you can hear is your heartbeat, no steps, no breathing, just your heart. Looking back, noticing that the door you slammed shut before are now open again.

Your living in your worst shitty nightmare.

It´s a tap on your shoulder that almost makes you lose it. You let out the most horror scream in your entire life, you didn´t even think you could scream like that. The tall person with ghostface mask is standing right next to you, they shake their head and one of their hands makes it over your mouth to keep you shut. As soon as your bodies hit the floor, which suprisingly didn´t hurt at all due to all the adrenaline you have in you, right now. They pull their knife to your face and slowly slide it across your cheek, not hurting you in any way.

Your breathing gets faster and faster to the moment you feel like you start to hyperventillate.

"Hello, (Y/N). You cut our call last night, so I felt like meeting you in person, again, would help us solve the excel problem. Don´t you think?" It was the same raspy, deep voice you heard yesterday over the phone.

"I- uh s-sure." You nod as you mumble your answer agaist her hand, noting better came to your mind.

"Sure? Now you don´t have a problem with that, but yesterday you cut me off like I was a fucking no one?!" Now you were truly hoping that this is just a nightmare and you will wake up. "Isn´t it fair if i cut you off too? So you would now how it feels?" Their knife is swinging infront of your face again.

"I- No, please, don´t. I- i uh I´m sorry!" You mumble agaist their hand.

The person on top of you just laughs and bring your hand above your head and now you can´t move at all.

"I think it´s fair, you know how shitty I felt? And today you´re doing like nothing happened? Like I was just.. what did you described me as... as a weird person who said stupid stuff?" Their face coming closer to you. "I think it´s fair to show me some fucking respect." you feel a slight sweet cologne coming from that person.

A scent you know very well, It starts with a fresh burst of citrus, like a mandarin. With a little hint of vanilla and amber adds depth and warmth. This scent is a subtle and comforting, like a cherished memory to you. A cherished person, you know too well.

It can´t be...

Your eyes shift, looking over the mask again, your eyes anaylzing from side to side, like you´re trying to read their mind through the eyes on the mask.

They tilt their head again, the knife slowly going away from your face. You hope that what you thing is just a big misunderstanding, it can´t be her. Not your Sam.

"Sammy?" You mumble as their hand is going away from your mouth. Few tears forming in your eyes.

"Oh look at you, you figured it out." She takes her mask of and it was like a bullet straight through your heart. "Now be quiet or I´ll shut you up." She picks you up, like nothing and wallks quickly into your bedroom.

This was not your Sam, not your friend, she look like her, but her actions were the exact opposite of your comfort person.

She throws you at the bed and you´re now laying on your stomach, she comes closer to you again and whispers into your ear.

"Every woman has her needs, mine is playing with you, (Y/N). Can you blame me?" She chuckles as she repeat what you´ve said earlier. "Ass up." She put her hands on your hips and you put your ass up, as she told you. Too scared to do anything else. "Good girl." Sam praises you.

"S-Sam.." you whine out between with your tears streaming down your face.

"Oh shush, did no one told you to speak nicely about your friends? And not talk-" she spanks you, hard, "shit about your friends?" Sam spanks you again, this time it was even harder.

"I´m sorry, Sam- I didn´t-" you try to talk, but it´s hard when your face is burried in the pillows.

"I. Dont. Want. To. Hear. It. Now." Her voice was harsh and so was her hands on your ass with each words she growls into your ear, even when you have your clothes on, it still hurts too much. "Just take what I give you and then we might talk." Without any warning she takes your pants off, slicing your shirt and throwing it away.

"No bra?" Sam laughs. "You went the whole day without a fucking bra, you´re so pathetic, (Y/N)." She runs her knife on your back, she´s doesn´t want to hurt you really, at least not right now. "You did this on purpose? You´re look so innocent, but you´re not so innocent, are you?" Her hands find its way on your tits, she give them a tight squeeze and you can´t help, but let out a big moan.

You like this, which shock you more than the fact, that Samantha Carpenter broke into your house, just to play with you.

Her big strong arms, oh god how much you love her amrs. The way they hold you during your sleepovers, how they caught you everytime you walk into the street without looking both sides, or how they always brought comfort to you. Everytime.

But now? It´s totally different now, at least that´s what you think and Sam noticed that. And she can´t have you be thinking this much, when she wants to have her sweet time with you.

Her hands playing with your nipples, pinching each one very hard for you to come back to her. And you did, you realize just now that you´re not crying anymore, you´re just a moaning mess.

"You´re doing so good, look at you, mi amor, taking all the spanks as a punishment for how mouthy you were." You can sense the smile in her words and it´s like your Sammy is speaking to you, which instantly make your worries go away. Your body relaxes againt her and she can feel it, it´s like a small win for her. "Good, just like that."

You moan once again, it was more a needy moan than anything else. One second you´re on your stomach and the other one, you´re on your back, Sam holding your waist to scoop you closer to herself. She´s still wearing the black cloak, that don´t scare you anymore. If anything it is kinda attractive, that she´s still in her clothes and you´re just in your panties.

Looking at her with needy eyes was something that Sam saw a many times. Begging her to pick you up after school, or give you her hoodie, when you were cold. Or those many times when you cannot reach something, because it was way to high.

But this time you have this spark in your eyes, the good girl was gone, now Sam could really see the needy whore, who hid under the inoccent cover for the whole time. And this time Sam takes this as the ultimate win.

"Please-" you whine.

The most confident smirk appears on Sam´s face as her hands runs down your body, finally kissing your neck. "Please what?" Sam asks you between those sloppy kisses.

You let out another whine.

"I´m letting you speak, if i was you, i´d better use it." She bites your neck, which will definetly make a nasty bruise.

"Use me." Your move your head, so Sam has better acces to your neck.

"Oh wow, such a fitlhy words, for such a pretty little girl." She chuckles as she keep kissing your neck, her hands finding your tits again.

You never knew your nipples were this sensitive, but Sam knows. Of course she does. You feel as her hands are grooping your breasts, but you´re not satysfied, you want to see her, so you tug on her cloak and let out a whine.

"What?" She mumbles agaist your neck and then she pulls away to make eye contact with you.

"I wanna see you." You tug on her cloak again, "please."

Sam without a beat took her cloak off and she was now in her black underwear, sitting on top of you as your eyes wonder. She gives you a little time for checking her out and god you could stare at her for days. The light in your room making her muscles look even sharper, not that she needs it, but you just can´t have enough of her.

"You´re not so sad now, huh?" She smirks again, fuck how much you hated that confident smirk. Without waiting for your actual response, she dive back, her lips on your neck, making sure that after tonight everybody knows who do you belong to.

After a few minutes of Sam being basically a vampire, she starts to kiss her way down, slowly as she stops at your nipples again. Slowly, but hasrshly sucking on them, making sure to keep an eye contact with you. " Keep your eyes at me." You could cum just from watching her.

She treats you like a blank canvas, and as a skilled artist, she must make sure that you are painted with her in the end and with a pleasure you won´t forget.

Her big muscular hands are sliding down your body, pinching your inner thighs to tease you. She knows what you want, but she won´t give in that easily, even when you´re looking at her with those cute and innocent eyes.

Your hands are sliding off your panties, but Sam qiuckly takes your hands. "They are staying on and keep your hands above your head." Her raspy voice sends shivers down your pussy, that is now drenched, because of her touches and skilled movements.

You put your hands back above your head, wiggling a little to show Sam how impatient you are. She just sends you a quick slap on your thigh and you giggle.

Her finger slowly going up and down your clothed pussy, you can already see how wet your panties are and if Sam wasn´t that needy, she would make fun of you. Seeing you like this gives her so much power and let´s be real you are really feeding her ego.

"Sam!" You move your hips up, hoping she will actually do something.

"(Y/N)!" She mocks you with innocent smile on her face.

"Fuck- I need your fucking hands in me or I swear I´m gonna lose it!" You did lose it already.

"You want my fucking hand in you? You like my hands?" Sam whispers.

"I do! So much! I need your big hands in me, please!" You shift towards her again.

"Aww pretty little girl, do you think that your pussy will take my big hands?" Sam´s finger barerly toucing your slit.

"Yes! I can take it!" You think that you will be crying from the frustration.

"Say it."

"My little pussy will take your big fucking fingers! Hands! Whatever you give me, I can take it, Samantha!" You groan.

"Oh you´re using my full name, you really need it, huh?" She smirks again, but your wish is her command and in the end she wants to make you feel good. Pushing your panties to the side, your juices are everywhere and god she loves it.

"Is this for me?" Sam softly asks.

"Only for you." You give her a small smile.

"In that case-" she slides her two fingers in you, slowly pushing in and out. Sam already feels your pussy pulsating and her fingers get almost swallowed by you. "Oh wow, I was so wrong about you and I´m so happy I was." She adds another finger.

You whine, you feel aready so close, your pussy is feeling like it´s on fire, your hips going up and down and Sam´s just enjoying the view. You want more, so you feel like grabing Sam´s hand is a good idea. She raises her eyebrow and slip her fingers out of you.

You whine out, immedietly feeling empty, you feel like you gonna burst out, you really need to cum, but now you lost everything that felt good.

Sam slaps your pussy one time, but damn it´s painful. "I said, keep your hands to yourself." Her fingers slides quickly back into you, both of you know, that you´re very close.

"Ple-" you can´t even finish the word without a moan.

"Go on, scream. I want you to fucking scream my name, mi amor." She uses both of her hands now, one sliding in and out of you and the other one playing with your clit, which is something that gets you over the edge pretty easily.

Your whole body flex under her touch, this is the best release you ever had, it felt better than anything in this world, she definetly know what she´s doing. As you scream her name, Sam slows down her movements, for you to ride it all out, without being too overstimulated.

Sam gives you two kisses on each of your inner thighs and then kiss her way back up. She´s smiling and you are too.

The atmosphere went from being scared of your life to you having THE time of your life.

"There you go, little girl. How are we feeling hm?" Sam whispers into your ear as she wraps her strong hands around you.

"Fucking confused." You let out a small giggle.

"Watch your tone, young lady." Her hand squeezes your wrist.

"I- I´m good. Just... what just happened?" You lean into her.

Sam laughs as you´re confused. "You know I hate Halloween, you scared the living shit out of me with this prank, Sam. If you wanted to... you know, you could´ve just asked. I though you were some murderer!" You lazily mumble as you are half asleep already.

"Yeah and I love Halloween and asking you for a fuck session is not so fun. Me a murderer? Oh please." She kisses your head.

"Hmm.. whatever." You are too tired to have this conversation with her.

As you fall asleep in the arms of Samantha Carpenter you felt happy, today was really a great day.

Sam made sure you were dead asleep before getting up from the bed, but as soon as she did, you instantly start to move in discomfrot. She quickly grab your teddy bear and made you cuddle him instead and her plan worked. Cute smile was on your face again and Sam was glad you had this stuffie here as a replacement for her, when she needs to do her job. She knew you will be overthing when you woke up to an empty bed, so she quickly scribble down a note.

"I´ll call you later, I had to go to work, -s"

She took her knife that was laying on the ground, take on her cloak and last but not least take on her ghostface mask and went to work.

She was never a murderer, she was and still is just a protector. Especially when it comes to you.

…

Of course you had to call Sam, when you heard the news.

"Hi, how is my sleepyhead?" She chuckles into the phone.

"Hey, um... did you hear the news?" You quickly say to her, as you´re almost out of breath.

"What news?" She asks you.

"There was a murder, someone in a ghostface mask was seen few streets from my dorm. They killed a girl from my statistic class, I mean... I didn´t know her, but it´s still scary." As you say this, goosbumbs appear on your arms.

"Oh shit, that´s... scary even for me. Are you okay?" Sam asks with concern.

"Yeah, I didn´t know her or anything, but it´s crazy. Especially when you can buy the mask anywhere, since you have it too." You ramble over the phone.

"Right. It´s like I killed her, right?" Sam responds.

"Sam, don´t joke about these things. Can you maybe come to mine after work?" You really need her, to protect you and make you feel safe again.

"Give me 15 minutes." And with that Sam hang up. Drove away from the empty parking lot, where she watched your classmate, Tony. She heard a few stories from you, that Tony was being a dick during your presentation and no one can be a dick to you. No one.

And today is Tony’s lucky day, because you need her now and that´s way important. When she´s with you, no one can hurt you.

Only she can and that´s how it should be all the time.

Thank you for reading! Have a great day!!! And tell me what you think<3

#adele writes #samantha carpenter #samantha carpenter x reader #sam carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #ghostface!sam #scream universe #kinktober 2023

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meanbossart · 7 months ago

Note

Hi! I'm in love with your DU art and was wondering what Drow's initial reaction to Astarion being a vampire spawn or did he already know? (Also what's his view on vampires in general?)

Oh yeah he knew LOL

Like, I'm sorry, I don't care if your insight is in the negatives - the guy is surrounded by jars of coagulated blood, he's translucent under the sun, he has red eyes and bite marks on his neck, he has FANGS. I will first believe you found some work-around to the whole "sun-burning-me-to-cinders" issue before I DON'T assume that you're a vampire.

Because Astarion took almost a whole act to warm up to DU drow, I had the pleasure of getting the dialogue where he has to tell you about his status as a suckling undead unprompted. And yeah, DU drow's reaction was "Yeah I know". It gave me a good laugh, I'm so glad that was an option.

I think DU drow, after gathering that Astarion was some kind of vampire, just assumed it didn't need to be discussed unless he turned it into a problem. He's fucked-up in the head himself, after all, and the other guy over there is eating necklaces and boots to survive - if you need to take off to eat a boar every other night that's fine, It's none of his business.

But after it was all out in the open, and after they had sex for the first time, it was only then that Astarion tried to bite him. At that point DU drow was already a little carnally-smitten with the guy and had since re-familiarized himself with his own taste for pain. His current object of desire requesting to hurt him for his own benefit and to put himself in such a vulnerable place felt very... Nostalgic. Not only did he agree to it pronto, but it honed his interest in Astarion from that point on. Something about this agreement of theirs was very comforting, and he kept coming back for more, long before any feelings had actually developed.

This has nothing to do with his vampirism, though LOL there just so happens to be a lot of crossover between it and things that endear DU drow to Astarion. The literal bloodthirst, their shared feral nature, the risk implied in being intimate with him, the fact that Astarion looks and smells like a dead body-

This drives DU drow specially nutty. He loves how Astarion smells. This man will stick his face in his crevices and just take a deep long whiff. You're welcome for that mental image, by the way.

Otherwise, his opinion of vampires is very much based on Astarion's own perspective - which means he views them as a whole as untrustworthy creatures; weak, but simultaneously extremely dangerous. Vampire lords are tyrants drunk on power, always one misstep away from their downfall, and spawn are all cornered animals - fragile, but rabid. Astarion is, of course, the exception... Kind of.

#ask #DU drow lore

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dreamerschroniclesofstories · 1 year ago

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Clementina pt4

A/n: hey guys! This is officially the final part of this series. Please do leave your opinions in the comments, leave a like or re-blog. It’s all appreciated so much xx

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR YOU TO REPOST THIS ON OTHER WEBSITES AND TRANSLATION OF THIS FIC.

Summery: The Shelby family are in for a shock when they find out they have a sister hiding in plain sight.

pt1. pt2. pt3

Word count: 1,177

Clementina did not say a word to Tommy, his icy blue eyes pierced through the air, making her feel like he could see into her soul. The man did not smile at her, his face blank of emotion.One glance of those blue eyes told Clementina that he had a lifetime of struggles that hadn't been put into words, much like herself.

Eventually, when the doctors allowed Clementina to be discharged, with the help of Polly the young girl get herself dressed into a dress that Tommy had brought her a couple of days prior since the one she had at the orphanage was ruined by the blood and dirt from the years she had worn it and the previous girls that had it before her.

It had been arranged that Clementina would stay with Tommy since he now had enough money to get Clementina proper education, clothes, food and she would be with other young children, charlie and ruby. Polly did not want the young girl to be alone since she had been brought it up a dozen of other children.

On the way home to Tommys house, Clementina did not say a word. The air was brisk, over night it had snowed, not much but enough to leave a thin blanket of white on the ground. Clementina hadn't seen snow in her young life. She had heard of it in books that she had read but had not seen it with her own eyes.

The young girl adjusts herself in the seat beside Tommy, kneeling as she sticks her head out of the window, she wanted to see and smell the coldness on her face. The weather was a sort of cold that would freeze the blood of those who did not take adequate care to be warm at heart and core.

Tommy glances at the young girl, noticing that she was smiling to herself as she looks up to the sky, the clouds were a dark silver and black, they adorn the sky as if they long to kiss the land. Tommy wouldn't be surprised if it started to snow before the end of the day.

“ you'll catch a fever” he warns, a hint of worry laced in his voice.

Clementina quickly sits back down in her seat, wrapping the blanket ,that Polly gave her for the ride home,around her shoulders it was the most beautiful blanket she had ever seen. It was woven with a wool as soft as what Clementina imagined the clouds would feel like. The blanket is the colour of lilacs. A stark contrast to the black interior of Tommy's car. The blanket brings together all the colours of springtime daydreams, bringing Clementina a welcoming heat hugging her delicate body.

“sorry” the young girl apologises, feeling a warm glow rise up to her cheeks, the young girl barely knows the old man, the only thing she knows is that he is her brother, but she knew she didn't want to make him angry like the nuns, she was scared that he would react the same way.

“why are you apologising, ey?” he smirks slightly, raising an eyebrow “ Shelby's don't apologise” Tommy shared, his tone light making sure Clementina knew he wasn't angry at her.

Clementina looks towards Tommy, not saying anything. For the rest of the car journey Clementina leans her head back on the seat, watching the trees pass.

As soon as Tommy turns the corner into his estate, Clementina sits up and her jaw drops ever so slightly, her eyes widening in disbelief as an involuntary gasp leaves her mouth quietly “woah”

Tommy chuckles ever so slightly, he drives around the fountain that sits in front of the house, Clementina quickly looks towards Tommy “ you live here” she asks amazed, she had never seen a house quite so big for only one family.

“ indeed i do, and you'll be living here as well” Tommy climbs out of his car, walking across the gravel to help Clementina out of the car. She gently grabs his hand, stepping out of the car. The curtain to Tommys office twitches making Clementina look towards the window as Tommy places his hand on her back guiding her into the house.

Clementina eyes sparkled as she looks at the different paintings on the walls, making the corner of Tommys lips to tug upwards as he guides her to his office. The young girl had been told before leaving the hospital that her other brothers, her sister and her son will be at the house waiting to meet her.

When they get to Tommys office, Clementina held Tommys hand as he opens the door, her heart beats faster in her chest, she could hear the blood pumping through her veins. She was anxious. Her hand in Tommy's begins to sweat as she glances between the group of people as she entered the office.

“hello” she whispers, her voice small compared to the others. She waves slightly, staying close to Tommy as he sits at his desk. Everyone begins to introduce themselves, Clementina immediately getting comfortable with Ada.

Tommy watched as Clementinas curious green eyes slide over her surroundings, observing everyone and everything. Could her really give her a better life? Would she be safe with him?. However, Tommy realised that it was a risk he'd have to take not just for himself but for Clementina. As she speaks to everyone one by one, she felt less anxious and more relaxed. Clementina was stood by Polly now, watching as the last man to introduce himself walks over to her.

“i'm Arthur, the funny brother” Clementina looks down at the hand that Arthur outstretched towards her. She crept closer to him, then shakes his hand gently.

“you have a funny looking thing on your face” she states innocently, pointing to his moustache, causing everyone in the room to laugh. Tommy smiles, chuckling as he shakes his head.

“i told you Arthur, you need to get rid of it” Ada joked, tutting.

Arthur scuffs “ alright.alright” he grumbles, walking back over to the seat he was sitting in.

Clementina walks back over to tommy's desk, going to sit on the seat that he had placed there for her when she sees the most beautiful horse in the field. she rushes over to the window and smiles “ you have a horse” she asks, her whole face glowing from happiness.

Tommy stands up and walks over to the window, standing beside Clementina “i have five” he corrects her, taking a puff of his cigarette “ do you like horses?” Tommy questions Clementina, looking down at her, watching as she jumps up and down on her feet slightly as she observes the horse walking around the field.

Clementina nods eagerly and looks up at Tommy “ they are my favourite animal, i had a toy horse but it broke” she explains.

From the corner of the office, Polly chuckles and shakes her head “unbelievable, we have another Thomas Shelby” she smiles.

“ god save us” Polly mumbles.

A/N: well that's the end of the story about Clementina. i hope you enjoyed it. I actually can't believe i have completed my very first fanfic series.

#peaky blinders fanfic #tommy shelby imagines #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x sister!reader #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x sister!reader #thomas shelby x sister reader #peaky blinders masterlist

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ashtheketchum · 5 months ago

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●Little cheater●

Daryl Dixon X fem.Reader

Era: Alexandria (S5)

Summary: You and your partner live together in Alexandria and you seem very happy. You are also very happy with your partner, but you miss that certain… charm. Daryl provides that for you and you can never get enough of him.

Warnings: +18 CONTENT, FEM.Reader, unprotected, Reader is a cheater, missionary, fingering, riding, handjob, slight cum play

Words: 2.8k

Masterlist!

__________________________________

PoV (Y/N):

I have been living in Alexandria with my boyfriend for a long time now. Aaron found us and brought us to Deanne, who welcomed us with a loving smile. We have now lived here for three years and we both have different jobs. My boyfriend was supposed to go on runs to find new groups or food while I taught the children. We didn't have many children, but enough to build a new future.

Personally, I never wanted to have children and my opinion on that hasn't changed. I also don't want children with my current partner. He's nice to me and treats me well, but I don't find him attractive anymore. To put it nicely, he's really not good in bed. I had to fake my orgasms again and again so that it would end quickly. But now I've given my sex life a special kick.

Aaron has brought a new group to Alexandria and one of the group immediately catches my eye. An archer, slightly longer hair and intense blue eyes. Our eyes met once and I immediately felt myself getting wet between my legs. But of course I hide my thoughts from my boyfriend, so he doesn't think anything wrong about me. Or catch me doing anything wrong.

Somehow I managed to invite the archer, whose name is Daryl, into my house. My boyfriend is on a run so he wouldn't notice anything. I lied to Daryl and told him that we were having problems with our sink. At first he didn't understand what I wanted, but he went with me to be a "nice neighbor". So while he looks at our sink in the kitchen, I sit behind him and grin broadly. My hungry eyes are glued to his broad back. "Why 're ya starin' at me like tha'?" The archer suddenly asks. At first I was frightened, even though he has his back turned to me, he can feel my eyes on him. So I clear my throat briefly. "I was just… looking at your work…" I lie quietly while he looks at me briefly. I give him an innocent smile before he turns away again and nods slightly. My grin turns dirty and hungry again. “Ah ´kay…”

Daryl works on our sink for another 10 minutes before he stands up and turns the water on and off a few times. "'m done…" I slowly stand up and grin broadly at him, his blue eyes briefly examine my face. "Thanks, Daryl… what would I do without you…?" I purr quietly and lean a little closer to him. Daryl stands still before turning away and drying his hands on a towel. "Callin' yar husband, I guess." His answer makes me giggle briefly, but then I shake my head. "No, no… he's not my husband and… he can't really satisfy me…~" I whisper the last sentence quietly and I see a slight goose bump on Daryl's neck. The redneck looks at me seriously for a moment. "Ya tryin' anythin', woman?" "Call me (Y/N)." I smile innocently at him before I go in front of him again and look up at him. I carefully place my hand on his, which makes him twitch briefly. "Let me thank you for the sink~…"

I lead Daryl up to the bedroom and gently push him into bed. Before I crawl to him, I take off my clothes until I'm standing in front of him in just my underwear. His blue eyes scan my entire body until they land on my face. Daryl may be a survivor and a fighter, but he's still a man. And every man needs to relax sometimes, right? With slow movements, I slowly crawl towards him and kiss his lips gently. He hasn't kissed back yet, but that doesn't bother me too much.

I gently take his hands and place them on my body, one hand on my hip, the other on my thigh. He grips me tightly for a moment before he strokes my skin and I crawl onto his lap. His rough fingers give me pleasant goosebumps and I gasp his name quietly. "Daryl~…" I see his eyes getting a little darker and he's getting bolder with his movements. The archer presses my pelvis against his and I can already feel the bulge under his pants. Panting, I hold on to his broad shoulders while I roll my hips against his. The bulge in his pants is getting bigger and bigger and it rubs perfectly against my clitoris. Moaning, I let my hands go down his chest to pull out his cock.

I don't care about undressing him in any way, I just want him inside me right now. Daryl is breathing heavily and watches me as I pull out his semi-hard cock and wrap my fingers around his shaft. I move them up and down slowly, squeezing a few times to make him even harder. His length makes my insides tingle and I moan quietly. My boyfriend's cock is nothing compared to Daryl's cock. His cock is at least 8 inches long, has veins on the underside of his shaft, and a red tip from which huge drops of pre-cum flow out. "Fuck, woman~…" He gasps quietly as I press my thumb against his tip. "You like that~?" Daryl hesitates briefly before nodding and laying his head back. A man is a man, I told you.

I move my hand a little further around his shaft before I pull his pants down a little further and then take off my panties. I slowly let my wet pussy rub against his shaft, which elicits a quiet sigh from the archer. His cock twitches strongly under my pussy, which makes me gasp briefly. "Are you ready?" "N-no condom…?" He stutters quietly, which makes me giggle. "We don't need a condom…~ We will pull out just in time." And with these words I carefully raise my pelvis, only to then sink back down on him.

His cock immediately stretches my inner walls and an excited moan leaves my throat. I've missed this feeling of being stretched out for so long and I'm finally getting it again. "God, I love your cock, Daryl~…!" I moan loudly and move immediately. Daryl whimpers loudly and clings to the bed covers that are underneath him. His eyes are tightly closed, but I can hear that he's enjoying it. I rest my hands on his toned stomach so that I can lean forward a little and let my pelvis fall harder onto his. This causes my breasts to squeeze slightly.

Our skin slaps loudly against each other, but our voices are louder. Daryl is a little quieter now, but I can still hear him clearly. His whimpering and growling always gives me a pleasant shiver and I moan louder and louder. "So good~…! God~!" Every time I moan something, his cock twitches hard inside me, which always makes me grin. His rough fingers wander down between my legs and he starts rubbing my clitoris. My vision goes black for a moment and I moan his name loudly. "Oh Daryl~…!" "'s good…~ So good~… oh fuck~!" The archer growls loudly, his blue eyes now back on my body.

My legs start to shake and my movements become more and more sloppy. You can really tell that I haven't had good sex in a long time, my body is no longer used to such phases. Daryl seemed to notice this, though, because he grabbed my hips again and thrust into me from below. My eyes immediately rolled back and I was briefly taken aback because I hadn't expected him to suddenly move so well and so quickly. "Just like that~! Yes~!" I scream loudly, my upper body falling onto his. I bury my face in the crook of his neck while I let my legs relax. Daryl now does all the work and fucks me hard. God, I've missed that feeling.

His balls hit my ass, just as his skin slaps harder and harder against mine. With his strong grip he moves me against him and he hits my magic spot perfectly. I see stars in my mind's eye and just moan loudly to myself. I feel Daryl's rapid breathing on my head. I am a moaning wreck and I cling tightly to his top. Although I didn't care at first, I now want it off. So I sit up slightly again and gently tug on his shirt and vest. Daryl gives me a warning look before he moves even faster inside me and strokes my clitoris again. "Ahh fuck~! I'm gonna cum~!" I scream loudly and move faster.

Daryl growls louder and louder, his cock twitches more and more inside me and his breathing is also much faster. "Yah~… me too~" He growls, in a rough voice. Whining, I move faster until I finally reach my orgasm and moan loudly. My orgasm overwhelms me so strongly that my eyes roll back in my head and I start to shake violently. It's been an incredibly long time since I had an orgasm like this, but I can finally enjoy it again and not fake it. My inner walls squeeze Daryl's shaft hard, so that his orgasm also reaches quickly. Before he can come inside me, however, I quickly sit up so that his sperm lands on my inner thighs.

The archer is breathing quickly and heavily, his eyes are closed, probably to come to terms with the current situation. "So good…" I whisper quietly before I fall onto him and calm my breathing. He strokes my hips gently with his hands, his heart is pounding fast against his chest and I can hear it. "Ya good…?" His question makes my heart flutter before I look up and kiss him gently. "Yeah… and you?" The archer just nods at my question before he lies down again, relaxed, and looks at the ceiling. He probably can't figure out what just happened himself. "… we can repeat that, right?" My question makes him sigh loudly.

But we have actually done it again. When my boyfriend is in Alexandria, Daryl and I behave as we always do, ignoring each other most of the time, only giving the other brief glances that always warm me up. And as soon as my boyfriend is out on runs, I have invited Daryl over, but always for different reasons. Sometimes I have trouble carrying something heavy, then my shower didn't work out and today I just invited him to dinner. A "thank you" for always helping me.

"Yes, right there~!" I moan loudly as I look down. Daryl props himself up over me, one arm next to my head, the other hand between my legs. He has rammed two of his fingers deep into my pussy and he moves them in and out quickly, which takes my breath away. His entire hand is already shining with my arousal, as he has already brought me to an orgasm with his fingers. "Jus' one more time…~" The redneck whispers quietly against my neck, which he then starts to kiss. His stubble tickles my skin and a pleasant shiver runs down my spine as I feel my second orgasm. Although the situation feels so good, I have the feeling that Daryl is thinking about something. But I can think about that later.

"Oh fuck~! Daryl~!" I scream out loud as my second orgasm rolls over me. My legs shake like crazy and my breathing is rapid. My vision blurs for a moment before I see the beautiful man who makes me feel so good again. "So good~… oh Daryl~" My voice is shaky due to the overwhelming orgasm. Daryl slowly pulls his fingers out of me and looks at them for a while before wrapping his fingers around his cock. I've now managed to persuade Daryl to always take off his pants and shirts. He refuses to take off his vest, but it's also pleasant when the leather rubs against my skin. With his hand, which is full of my arousal, he massages his shaft for a while before positioning himself between my legs.

His blue eyes look intensely into my (E/C) eyes while his arms support him next to my head, on each side. "Ya ready~?" I immediately nod to answer his question. He gives a short, amused snort before ramming himself into my pussy. I moan loudly in excitement, wrapping my legs tightly around his waist. The archer moves his hips hard against mine and he pulls out of me for just a moment. His blue eyes look deep into mine and I have the feeling that right now there is only us. Just the archer and me, no one else. No boyfriend I'm cheating on, no walkers who are making our lives difficult and no other people who wouldn't expect anything bad from us. And in that moment it became clear to me.

I fell in love with Daryl Dixon. And not just because of the divine sex.

"I-i love you~!" I moan loudly, my eyes looking deep into his. The redneck stops briefly before I feel him twitching hard inside me and pressing his forehead against mine. "´ love ya too~… lil´ cheater~" This nickname makes me giggle before I arch my back and moan loudly. Without me noticing, Daryl has moved a hand to my pussy and he massages my clit quickly. He massages my clitoris in quick circular movements, which makes my eyes roll back. "Ah fuck~! Daryl~! Daryl~!" I moan his name over and over again while I feel that I'm getting closer and closer to my third orgasm. My breathing is getting faster and my inner walls are getting tighter so that I can feel every detail of Daryl's cock. "Yar so tigh´~…" He growls loudly. His lips find my nipples and he sucks on them greedily. He also gently runs his tongue over my now hard nipple. My eyes widen in surprise and I look down at him. I can hardly see his blue iris. His pupils are so wide, full of lust and hunger, it makes my insides tingle.

"'m gonna cum too~…" "Cum inside me~! Please, I need your seeds inside me~!" I beg him loudly. Daryl just growls quietly, at first he wants to speak out, but he sees my determination. So he nods briefly before ramming himself into me even harder. Gasping loudly, I let my eyes roll back again and I open my mouth wide. My legs shake more and more and I press Daryl's pelvis even harder against mine. My heels press firmly against his ass. "Fuck, Daryl~!" His name rolls loudly from my lips as I feel my third orgasm. Completely overwhelmed, I scratch Daryl's shoulders while the archer continues to thrust into me.

It only takes two more thrusts before Daryl comes hard inside me. The feeling of his hot seed inside me overwhelms me and I gasp loudly. Daryl's growling gets louder and louder until he breathes loudly and then becomes completely still, his face resting on my chest. "'s so warm…" I hear him whisper quietly. Smiling gently, I stroke his hair while I try to calm my breathing. Swallowing hard, I look up at the ceiling before Daryl sits up, pulls out of me and looks deep into my eyes.

The archer hesitates briefly before gently kissing my lips. I hum against his lips in surprise before returning his kiss and gently stroking his cheek. "Ya should tell him…" He then murmurs quietly against my lips. I look at Daryl in confusion before I understand what he means. I smile at him uncertainly before gently pushing him away from me and sitting up. "I can't Daryl… he'll kill me if he finds out about us." Daryl just looks at me quietly before looking down and sighing quietly. My inner self is currently fighting with itself.

I love Daryl, but I'm afraid to tell my boyfriend. How will he react? What will he do to me if he knows? What will he do to Daryl? Too many questions are swirling around in my head, but my thoughts are interrupted by Daryl, who gently takes my hand in his. "We can tell together…" His suggestion makes me smile before I nod and pull him closer to me. We kiss gently before falling back into bed and Daryl pulls me on top of him.

"(Y/N), what the hell!?" But then I hear someone scream loudly. Startled, I immediately pull away from Daryl and look at my boyfriend in shock. His wide eyes are first on my naked body, then on Daryl's almost naked body. "What the fuck happened here!?" Well, this is going to be funny.

#daryl #daryl dixon #daryl twd #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #twd #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixion x reader

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alavestineneas · 7 months ago

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and if you are there, why do i feel alone in this room?

pairing: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!reader summary: The woman—a siren, some kind of sea beast lurking in deep, salted waters—sits near him with the ottoman under her feet that still seemed to deny her the comfort of rest, her eyes glinting with mischief when she notices his stare. Taunts, even, forge obliviousness to the spells she casts. Strange, otherworldly—redundant. Everything about her, down to the light gown and a headdress that showed little of her face, Feyd-Rautha was not used to seeing. warnings: mentions of death, violence, implied/referenced child abuse, religious symbolism, mentions of sa (!), blood and other parts of body, very non-healthy relationships chapter 1 - chapter 2 !this work is part 2 to the i can feel the soil falling over my head; no people are here, just the void in my chest! word count: 7,3k

author's notes: hi beautiful people! today, I have finally finished this chapter! be aware that this piece of literature is explicit and touches on some very heavy themes, including sa and child abuse. Please be mindful of it! As always, your opinions, suggestions, and critiques are welcome in the comments. Love you, and have a tasty read!

There are a lot of books stored in her memory, locked in the neurocytes safely. They are tucked into the cortex with love and tenderness that YN otherwise taught herself to suppress as a sign of her weaker self. But papers were non-living, so she felt like it was less dangerous for her to show warmth towards them; after all, if the objects can not acknowledge your love, does it really count as real? She read everything, mostly in an attempt to prepare herself for something she did not know the face of; she read to build the shield around herself, in desperate hope to be able to help at least her future self. YN read even now, although her foolish childhood desires were long gone, just to get a glimpse of the girl she was before the monsters escaped the pages.

The book she re-read the most was nothing special, nothing suiting the image she moulded herself into—a giant, relatively old encyclopaedia of animals inhabiting the furthest corners of Known Imperium. The letters inside, although faded a little, were left almost untouched by eyes—maybe it was what drew her in in the first place—to cherish something seen as unneeded. YN learned the small paragraphs almost by heart; she liked the idea of someone taking enough time to observe something as small as a roden to know its habits. She liked the idea of it happening to her one day. As it always is, it did not.

She chose her favourite animal without that much thought. Although even the notion of having something beloved was foolish, YN was made to choose; she and her sisters played the game of forest most often. The game was simple: pretend to be a creature you are not, forgetting the countless rules they had to follow. Pretending they have claws and teeth; pretending they can protect themselves not through intrigues and hidden motives but through open, bold force. Irulan was always a Katanga Lioness; she liked it because of the proximity to their house's symbol. YN did not; the grey pages of her beloved book described them as "observed to also scavenge on carrion of animals that were killed by other predators or died from natural causes''. What king of the animals steals the work of others simply to feed themselves? She did not tell Irulan that, of course—why would she?

YN chose a mountain lion for herself. Sure, she may have made a mistake thinking it was just another type of lion, but the game went too far to change anything, so she stuck with that. She even grew to love it—the drawing of the mountain lion on her character sheet, the way it prowled through the forest in her mind's eye. It had many names and many homes. Adaptive. Captivating.

She does not know why it came into her mind suddenly—maybe it was the dim light of the closed arena. The air circulated here freely, cooling through the complex systems of vents, even though it seemed to be deprived of any life—just a mechanical circle of the same molecules moving around her seated figure and returning to the hidden openings again and again. YN looked straight ahead; the two men were still sparring.

From her bench, they looked like one—two bodies moved so swiftly that one was unable to differentiate where the lines of their limbs ended. YN squinted her eyes; she was alone in the seating area, and still, she dared not move closer. The taller, thinner figure possessed skin so white it looked almost translucent underneath the cold light—YN wondered if she would be able to see the structures in his body through his clothed stomach. He moved well, almost too well for her not to press her lower row of teeth to the top one, hiding the tongue in a cave of pearl bones—she had hoped he was worse with his bare hands. YN had counted four hundred and five seconds before he made a mistake in his steps; it was a lot more than her own results, but for a man, he was good.

Feyd-Rautha had style; she had to give him that. He fought like a serpent would: calculated, precise. His fists knew the most effective targets, and his legs knew how to escape the blows of his opponent. If YN was to guess, he relied on muscle memory less than a usual fighter would, preferring to dwell in the moment instead. It made for a good show, sure, but it was not practical. She smiled to herself; of course, the na-Baron could not know what the real battle was like. How unfortunate for him—how delightful for her. YN still can't believe he let her watch his training every morning—was he really that stupid not to realise her motive? Was he too confident to consider having weaknesses?

Regardless, she saw what she needed to do - for three hours every day, she set unmovingly on the third bench in a small fighting ground, imprinting his every move in her mind. There are so many moves you can use and so many tricks you can do before she learns them all. YN did not care for the cold gaze thrown in her direction when Feyd-Rautha collapsed on the ground, taking a moment to rest before lurching onto his opponent again. She can wait.

Mountain lions are stealthy predators.

The days she spent here changed into months, their slow steps morphing into each other until time became a blur, a concept she did not grasp. Feyd-Rautha was a hard one to warm, but before she would mould him into something she wanted, YN needed to heat his DNA to a certain magnitude; otherwise, he would simply break. She would've gladly accepted this turn of fate too, but right now, keeping na-Baron alive is far more convenient for the Bene Gessarit. For her.

A concubine. A slap in the face: it seemed like life was determined to dissolve the small bits of her dignity in its endless pool of secrets. She was not a wife to Harkonnen na-Baron; no, she was to be his whore. If she was not too tired, she would've felt a pang of fear on her rising with oxygen lungs; a concubine's position is even lower here compared to one of a lawful wife's. YN remembers the words of her teacher as she prepared her for the union: Harkonnen concubines are killed after their first night in a position; if one is lucky enough to escape the fate by being with a child, she bears him until it's time for the baby to be born. One of the greatest honours for a Harkonnen is to take the life of his mother as soon as he enters the world.

She was to join na-Baron for breakfast today—a proposal YN waited long to receive, but part of her wishes she never did. It was worded like an invitation; YN knows it was not. Harkonnens rarely spoke when they did not give orders—a creature of habit, she supposed. So, she did what she had to: follow the slave to the chambers designated for the meal. The hem of her dress shone with a colour so foreign to the fort around her; YN needed to make herself stand out. Men are much like children, she learned—the more colourful the toy, the more likely they will want to play with it.

The walls were heavy here. They didn't bend in the shapes she was used to, preferring to stand tall. They didn't have to hide their strength underneath a complicated facade—quite the opposite. They paraded it, wearing it like the honour it is. Staying unremorsefully unbending. Maybe it's the air or a different measure of gravity; maybe it's her habit of soaking up the surroundings and letting them poison her insides, growing rotten in between the folds of her stomach tissue, but her legs are metal, stone-cold, pulling YN deeper and deeper into the floor. She tries so hard to ignore the three creatures in the corner.

They are hairless, much like the man in front of her, and dressed in matching black. YN would've mistaken them for Harkonnen royalty if it were not for the iron collars on their necks and the glowing black eyes that seemed to follow her every move. She would've been happy to have some company and not be forced into solitude with na-Baron if it were not for a still convulsing body on the floor. A body she did not recognise, but it could've easily been her own.

The creatures seemed to enjoy the involuntary moves of the soon-to-be corpse; they closed their eyes in delight and bared the sharp, black-coloured teeth in sheer pleasure as they lurched into the white flesh. They ripped it apart with only their hands, not bothering to use the prepared knives for more than a big incision from head to stomach. The sounds of chewing and gnawing filled the room, echoing off the walls and sending electric impulses down her body. YN was used to the metallic smell and the bright colour of arterial blood, but this was not a simple death. It was a show, and she was the long-awaited watcher.

Feyd-Rautha seemed unbothered by the sight near him. His hands, covered in thick streaks of blood, were deep to his elbows in the body. He dissected the corpse with precision, his eyes focused and his grip steady. He looked calm, even peaceful. Na-Baron was in good humour today. ''I must say, your arrival has graced us with much more than just the dowery; nothing could've made this union more auspicious—such a rare bird you are, daughter of our generous Emperor. A princess, yet treated no better than a common slave.''

Here it was: the thing she was thinking about all the way to this strange, garbage planet in the dress that pokes bleeding holes in her abdomen with each glass she downs. From his lips, it sounds even more bitter; even savages found the way the Emperor sold one of his daughters so easily strange. "Both of our houses have traditions far beyond our understanding," YN shrugs, scaring her thoughts away like annoying flies. Here, in a room so far from the comfort of her home, they moved too fast, bringing nausea to her throat.

She is here to secure the bloodline of House Harkonnen, to ensure the balance needed in the Imperium. YN does not notice how suddenly her gaze darkens or how tightly the hands that rested on the chair are now holding the pleated velvet of her ruby-red gown. Oh, the baby. The tiny creature inside her womb, the future head for the Baron's crown to be placed upon. The yet unconcieved child she could not feel love for. She was given no other choice but to risk its life before even giving it a chance to obtain its gift.

''Then you will find my present to be quite fitting.''

YN watches in silence as na-Baron reaches inside the rib cage of the corpse. He reaps out an organ with one swift motion, almost like plucking a harmful sprout from the garden. The organ is broun and rosewood, a weird mixture of shades that make it harder for her to focus on anything but the thing in his large hand. The gift he meant to give was a human heart.

She feels his walk long before she sees a figure departing from its place at the table; she guesses the end point of his manoeuvres too easily. It's almost funny—a cruel, senseless joke; how obvious the slight tremor in her hands is; how heavy her eyes become at the sight of Harkonnen black. The body positions itself near; if she squints, she can hear the hot breathing somewhere between her shoulder blades. His hand snakes around her neck quickly, positioning the organ right in front of her mouth. YN can detect the smell hitting her nostrils before she closes the receptors in them. She wants to scream, but the notes die in her throat. Who would she scream for? She hears the creatures hiss and whisper—the heart is a good part, from what she can make out. It did not need to be wasted on people like her.

''Will you not accept it?'' Feyd-Rautha's words are mocking, but his dark blue eyes stay virgin to the laughter. They drill small spots on her neck from behind with such force that YN can almost feel the burnt smell of her sweat-covered skin.

She takes a breath. Her own heart shrinks, its vessels beating with intensity twice as much as needed. Still alive, she notes absently. Still breathing. The feeling is natural and easy; the forced calmness in her body tingles the muscles, braiding her nerves into a pattern similar to the netting. Then, she opens her mouth.

"If I shall lick the blood of your hands, Feyd-Rautha, dare to make it your own."

That's it.

Maybe the Emperor was right to spare her none of the Sardaukars and a quarter of her dresses. She did not need more; she was not expected to survive long enough to use half of her clothes. YN chucked under her breath. Dead over diet preferences—how profound.

After a moment, the pale face behind her also twists, allowing the blackened teeth to escape the grip of thin lips. Like this, na-Baron looks less human and more like the evil he was said to be. He throws the heart to the creatures—they catch it greedily—and places a bloodied hand on her shoulder, the droplets of crimson going unnoticed on the brightly coloured cloth. ''Very well, then. Let us eat.''

YN nods. She looks around almost instinctively; nothing could make her eat a thing after the sight she just witnessed, but she refuses the na-Baron once; she is not about to do it again. The food is a lot, but her plate is almost empty: only a small amount of salad is here, sadly staring into the hunger in her eyes and a now featherless creature in an unnatural pose, suggesting its non-poetical death. The bird is small, almost delicate; its wings are pitifully glued to the body. YN does not want to let her mind draw the comparison, and does not allow her brain to admit a direct analogy; she dissects the bird with a dull knife and puts a piece in her dry mouth. The creature tastes good—almost too good to be expected in this brightly lit hall.

Most often deer is the mountain lion’s staple diet. However, they can survive preying on small animals as well.

The night covers Giedi Prime rather quickly; it never lingers, politely waiting for its masters to finish their daily affairs; it hits like a coward, from behind, trapping those not careful enough to hide before its arrival. The harsh, toxic waves of lazy winds hit the walls of the halls coldly lighted with a few sphears; they look like deep forest clearings, forming a system of endless options, ultimately leading to one, inevitable, end. His work chambers aren't big; he does not visit them often for them to be. The solitary metal desk before him is filled with letters, drafts of laws, and official documents, all waiting for his approval. It exhausts Feyd-Rautha to no end, the sheer stupidity of most of the advisers here; almost half of the documents were riddled with errors and inconsistencies. The forever present in his head dull migraine grows stronger when he opens the shortest letter; he almost busts his skull open when the pain heavies.

He ponders too much—the type of thoughts you can feel running on your tongue but never escaping. He is not used to being in the mist; all of his life is so painfully contrasted that no doubt of its nature can survive the sharp edge of his mind. There are things he can escape—forget, even—but some linger in his ribcage too long for them to vanish. Soon, they grow into his lungs with small, unbreakable threads, becoming him. He used to try to get them away from his heart, as if it held some value. Now, he is smarter, older, and more indifferent, he lets them pierce yet another piece of human flesh with no sorrow.

Of course, he remembered her face. The same face that haunted his sleep ever since she dared to appear before his eyes. Feyd-Rautha, naturally, found her little frolic that day. He spent an entire evening studying her work, analysing every move she could've made with her blade to achieve such outcomes. Sure, some things he would've done differently, but the sheer brutality of an animal he would not have guessed the girl possessed charmed him. Feyd-Rautha was a proud man, but he, too, held a love for beautiful things. For that, he hadn't told the Baron of the sight he discovered in the reading room. For that, he is now willing to pretend to believe her eyes when the fear fleshes in them.

Feyd-Rautha curses; she sickens. Like a bone stuck somewhere down his throat, not letting him live without a pang of mocking. She lurks, and whispers—Feyd-Rautha wants to smash her pretty head against the wall just to reveal the secrets she hides from him so he can finally understand the hold she retains. He is no stranger to the desire to own, or devour, but the fear in the back wall of his stomach is an alien in his body. He tries to hide it—to paint over it with anger or violence—but it remains a constant presence, gnawing at him from within. It's no use; the woman is a shark, designed to sense the fright. Maybe that's what brought him in in the first place—the steel eyes so similar to his own in a narrow hall all those years before. Maybe he was so used to the danger that he craved it subconsciously, looking for it to make him feel like himself again. A reoccurring childhood nightmare he can't escape; he doesn't want to escape.

Feyd-Rautha finds the chair to put his weight on and waits until the tingling, spinning sensation spreads from his temples down his neck, finding its way into his bloodstream and passing his organs one by one, until none are left uncorrupted. Of course, he expects it. The woman slipped into his brain and now chews her way into it like a parasite downs the rotten body. He knows he should be terrified, but instead, he feels a strange sense of relief. Feyd-Rautha can hear the whispers of his own mind fighting to remain the only owners of the secrets and desires buried within. He feels his eyelids heavy; a second later, the whites of his eyes are staring at the ceiling, the blue eye lenses dissolving in light.

Water. The first thing he feels is ice-cold water dripping onto his face, filling his lungs, and sending a shock through his arms. This body does not feel like his; it's too small, too narrow. His eyes are trying to adjust as fast as they can, jumping from one blurred spot to another until finally catching a glimpse of the surroundings. His brain does not have time to process the picture; his nose is filled with fluid again, and his open mouth is gasping for air but only taking in more liquid. He tries waving his hands around, but the stronger grip is firm on his nape, pulling him further down into the depths. The hand yanked him out just as he was about to fall into darkness again, the sound of water changing to loud screeching.

''How dare you hit me, devil child? Let the water wash away your dirt. Repent; beg for forgiveness for all of your rotten nature.''

The voice is unknown to him; it is harsh and filled with fury. The woman's face is twisted in anger; splashes of water on it match his. He can't tell if they are from his antics or tears. The woman's grip tightens, her nails digging into his skin. The black clothes on her figure make her status known - a Bene Gessarit witch. Feyd-Rautha tries to lurch forward and hit her back, but her strength is overwhelming. He feels panic coursing through his veins instead of oxygen—a sensation he did not think he could experience anymore. He wants to bark a response to show her that he is not afraid, but his voice catches in his throat.

Feyd-Rautha has no time to wonder what the woman wants; she brings his face to the bathtub again, and he opens his mouth involuntarily, frantically begging not to do it anymore. He says everything she wants to hear; he cries out and promises to wash his sins away. The voice does not sound like his at all. He is desperate to end this nightmare now, but some force holds him here. The woman is not satisfied; her ears are deaf to his pleas.

His face ends up on the water surface a moment later, his nose hitting the wall of the bathtub as the woman holds him down. He feels his body go limp with utter horror; this time, the shouting woman won't stop. Her voice grows quieter, replaced by the sound of small waves hitting the brim and spilling; from right to left, the water turns red, and his tongue tastes the iron he knows from sliding blades into his mouth.

''Echidna, what the fuck are you doing? Let her go; she is going to choke!''

''Get that spawn to me, for I will not let her ruin my life anymore! I must finish what I have started!''

Feyd-Rautha's head is filled with oxygen once again; his lungs take a desperate breath in, sending too much air to his blood system. He falls on his back, the world spinning. He does not care for the weeping woman in black or the chaos unfolding around him. His only thought is that everything is finally done and that the white floors are a magnificent place for drops of liquid to fall from his normally bald head's waterfall of hair.

He wakes up suddenly, the sensation long gone. His steps are heavy again; the body he inhibits no longer feels like a cage. The voices have left him for now, and the only thing on his forehead left is small drops of sweat and a pathetic, frightened, beating heart. The cold breeze from the darkened sands surrounding the city wishes to prove otherwise—it heavies and plants its spikes into his reddened cheeks. The horizon gleams at him, almost taunting; not a single star is to be seen under the imposing clouds. He will kill her; maybe he will even enjoy it. Feyd-Rautha can handle a lot, but not the shame of being seen. Not the guilt of being caught wanting.

There are only three ways to hunt a mountain lion: tracking, waiting in ambush, and with dogs.

The gliding motions of heavy fabrics across the wooden floors created a strange pattern of a song now centuries old. Here, in a room so long that the wind travelled through the hollows, her careful steps seemed to almost fall silent. Nothing was there for the preying eyes to see. YN closes her eyes; with that, even for a moment, the world stays still. She knows where the hollow staircase will lead her; she feels it in her stomach with every step she takes. YN knows nothing about the future, but the past lives deep in her memories, haunting her every move. She knows she shouldn't have done it. Travelling through one's mind is a sin she can't escape; she will pay the price for it in her blood, but the Bene Gesarit did not send her here to survive, so it's of no use to be afraid now. It makes no difference for the dead if you weep at their grave or not.

The burning sphere of light in the hall stops spinning; the doors open without any noise, although if the pounding eardrums had not stunned her hearing, she could've noticed the faint thuds. YN waits; there are no flashes of her happiest memories or the faces of her loved ones in her drained mind. No, in what seems to be her last moments, she thinks of what she could've been if the world had not given her a sword to turn into.

Feyd-Rautha appears in the hall; his steps aren't rushed, and his expression is stone-cold. She eyes him shamelessly: nothing. She sees nothing; she senses it deep in her crying bones. He drags her by the hair like a mother would with her misbehaving child; roughly, he pulls her towards the exit, his grip tightening with each step until the door behind them closes and her knees meet the cold ground with a nasty thud. The bruises will stain them soon, not that it matters now.

''You should've known better than to cross me,'' he hisses, his voice gruff. It's cold, chilling—the way his lips part to reveal a sinister smile. ''Now, you can think yourself vanished, little witch.''

YN does not answer—what fool would beg the deaf? The blade against her chin is sharp; she knows how attentive he is when it comes to inflicting pain. It pokes right into the Omehyoid muscle, a dull pain shooting through her body. If she has got to die, it may as well be from his skilled arms. How beautiful he is in the twisted pleasure he finds in her suffering. Unearthly, almost too perfect to be made of simple flesh and bone. Something was unnerving, unforgettable in the net of veins under his pearly skin; it was as if he were a work of art, meticulously crafted to bring physical pain and optical pleasure in equal measure. A silver glint under the defined cheekbones, a redness of lips filled with blood vessels. For a second, YN wonders what it would be like to bite into it, like an apple that lay too long under the golden sun; would the blood slip as generously as the sweet nectar? Handsome as poison, as a black sun on his forsaken planet, as death.

''Go on. Kill me, then; let me escape you once and for all.''

Under the deep sea of his eyes, something moved; his eyes dipped into her, part by part. Like the slow, deliberate dance of a predator stalking its prey, his gaze lingered on her, calculating and intense. YN lowered her head to push the knife a little deeper into the flesh. A strange thought lingered in her brain; she found herself on her knees in front of him, almost willingly. She has worshipped God all her life; who, if not her, can recognise his creation? The Devil. Lucifer. Satan. The man with horns so big they once touched the skies; a corrupt angel, fallen from grace so long ago he couldn't remember way back if he tried. They have warned her about him, but is it her fault that God has disowned her earlier than she could? Did it really matter to her, before whom to kneel, as long as she felt a sense of power and control in her submission?

All that mattered now was that he wanted to hurt her. He wanted her.

She sees the recognition flicker on his face. Caught. The blade slides quickly across her exposed neck, the blood sprouting out in a weak, painfully quick stream. Feyd-Rautha kissed her, biting her bottom lip till the stream of boldly coloured blood trickled down his chin. He did so like an animal would, baring his teeth and dragging them across the pulsating vein on her neck. YN's laughing cry echoes in the empty room; she is forced to admit that he felt good.

Never approach a mountain lion; most mountain lions prefer to avoid confrontations, so never approach them and make them feel cornered.

The woman—a siren, some kind of sea beast lurking in deep, salted waters—sits near him with the ottoman under her feet that still seemed to deny her the comfort of rest, her eyes glinting with mischief when she notices his stare. Taunts, even, forge obliviousness to the spells she casts. Strange, otherworldly—redundant. Everything about her, down to the light gown and a headdress that showed little of her face, Feyd-Rautha was not used to seeing. The beautiful substance of her hair caught the light from the sun like a mirage in the desert, reflecting in his eyes with painful hits. The jewels, too, have found their way onto her clothes, but they were hidden beneath the layers of fabric. They shined brightly, impertinently, framing her figure in a glow that seemed to come from within.

To his surprise, the skills woman possessed spread out to politics as well, with her witch training proving useful in court. Feyd-Rautha did not miss how his advisors grew more uneasy when she entered the room, her careful eyes scanning their faces for even a hint of betrayal or deceit. Like a proud discoverer, he ached to share his new-found wonder with the blind audience, but something in him protested in a mare thought of showing the precious jewel of his eye to the cluster of unworthy. So, Feyd-Rautha did the only thing he knew how— all of his secret observations were done from afar, masterfully hidden behind the facade of casual indifference.

As he drags yet another blade across the surface of the whetstone, he thinks about her delicate hands on his neck, her ringed fingers tracing the lines of his jaw. Harkonnen men rarely wed; they just take what they capture—men and women—and turn them into slaves. Some, if particularly sweet, are reserved for fucking. There are no special songs for that; there isn't a specific word in their native tongue for wife, either. It doesn't matter; YN is nothing of the sort. A concubine, a possession, a tool for pleasure and procreation—the Harkonnen way was simple.

''Are you done eye-fucking me now, or do you need more time with your blade?'' she sneers, her voice mocking. Only she could get away with such bold defiance in his presence, but she does not seem to care for the unusualness of it.

YN motions for him to come closer, her eyes studying the way his legs move. Feyd-Rautha has no control over them; the steps make themselves. She plays the game very well; the chase fuels something primal within him. Thirst. Hunger. It was the Harkonnen training talking to him—the wild, ancient sensation taking over his insides and imprisoning his mind in a cage of helpless desire. It spread its tentacles down to his fingertips, nesting in his abdomen. He positions himself in front of her, his body betraying him as he leans in closer, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Feyd-Rautha's hands repeat the ritual almost instinctively, rolling the hem of her deep purple dress up to her waist.

''Stop for a second,'' she whispers against his ear, her breath warm and inviting. ''Can I give you a piece of advice?''

Feyd-Rautha can feel the anger creeping into his body; he does not like to be refused. ''No,'' he grumbles, turning her around forcefully. "I don't need your advice," he snaps, his grip tightening on her arm.

YN does not seem to care for it. ''Don't do it. It will only lead to trouble.''

''What?'' He stops, his eyes narrowing as he absorbs the woman's words. The doubts that had lingered in the back of his mind suddenly grew louder, echoing through his mind. He releases her arm, his expression stoic. ''You are insane, woman. What are you talking about?''

''You know what I mean.''

The unease boils in his stomach. How could she know? He was careful not to slip anything; she wasn't able to cast her spells anymore either. But her knowing gaze tells him otherwise. ''You can not know the future,'' he pronounces.

''I don't need to know the future to see the truth, Feyd-Rautha. Your judgement is clouded by rage, and your mind is not as sharp as it usually is. You are not as invincible as you think you are.''

She is bluffing, he thinks. He hopes she is. Feyd-Rautha almost wished there was no cloth covering her face, nothing to hide her expressions as she lay beneath him. He catches her flamed eyes and the way they circle his face in one swift motion before settling on the ceiling above. It unnerves him, but he refuses to show it. She is no master here; she is simply a servant. That is not what power looks like, if he ever recognised one, and Feyd-Rautha knew power.

''Get out, now.''

Nothing was portrayed on her face as she curtseyed; nothing was there when she turned and walked to her rooms, leaving nothing but the ghost of the human body's warmth.

Mountain lions are more at home in brushy areas than in open prairies.

And then, he disappeared. Like the sound of the morning birds falling silent in the cacophony of voices of the city on her home planet, there was no trace of na-Baron in the entire Harkonnen fortress. YN thought she was slowly but surely going mad; no one but her noticed the usual place by the window empty, and no one but her seemed to care enough to know where he went. She caught strange looks from a few, and frankly, she thought they were right. She looked like a mad woman, her hair quickly plated and her dress hurriedly laced, her eyes darting around the room in search of any sign of Feyd-Rautha's massive figure. Noon was dragged into the evening, and then night, for three, long days until she heard the long-awaited news: na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen had tried to usurp his uncle and had failed.

She has told him so. A fucking brainless ram, with stubbornness bigger than his cock—why did he think he could outsmart the Baron? He will pay for his dumbness with his blood, perhaps even his limb—the thought brought nausea to YN's throat. She was lucky the Baron did not consider her important enough to be knowledgeable of such schemes; she lowered her head in the desert, hiding from the sand storms of Harkonnen politics; she waited for two long weeks until the announcement was made; Feyd-Rautha was forgiven. The celebration in honour of this news is to be today; she is to attend it. Not like his concubine, YN supposed, but more like the princess she still was.

Now, she took her time. YN chose a gown she wanted long enough to make even a tireless slave yawn, savouring each moment before their meeting. She was a victor now, in their small game of cat and mouse. He was a cat, but the mouse could still outwit him with grace and style. YN smiled at the wondering attendants; she looked good, and she was going to meet him.

The walk from her chambers to the Grand Hall wasn't too long; she would've walked a thousand more stairs if it was needed. The doors opened without a sound, revealing nothing but a mere celebration of yet another year under the reign of Harkonnens. The lines of slaves changed one another, the uneven circles of people dancing appearing and fleeing to the cheerful tone of strings. She was set somewhere between two Harkonnen lords she had no chance of knowing; she felt a sense of unease creeping up her spine as she tried to maintain a polite smile. Their gazes didn't look right; something sinister lurked inside them—hiding a secret she had no chance of knowing.

One of them turned to her, a chilling smile spreading across his face. "How are you finding the evening, lady YN? Or, what should I call you?,'' he mastered a fake confusion. ''Perhaps, darling? Concubine has a cheap wing to it; quite unworthy of a face so lovely as yours, don't you think?"

Dirt. The thing that crawled under her skin at his words was like dirt, making her feel unclean and exposed. She forced a laugh, trying to brush off his comments, the crown of her hair moving with muscles underneath her skin. "I am a princess, my Lord. Address me as such."

It would be enough every other noon, but today. The man's face twists, as if he just remembered something; he turns, the wine in his goblet splashing on the tablecloth. ''I think na-Baron wouldn't be too angry if I stole a princess for the night," he sneered, his eyes darkening with malice.

''Does it matter to you either way?''

YN watches as the smirk, so similar to Feyd-Rautha's, appears on the men's lips, although it doesn't feel the same. She fights back disgust as the man nods, biting into a hefty chunk of prey. His eyes, once focused on her, drifted away. YN chose to follow them; the string of fat streaming down the man's mouth onto the silver tablecloth made her nauseous. She looked from one unfamiliar face to another, until the cold feeling in her abdomen crept its way onto her chest.

There he was. His figure is unusually crouching as he sits on the podium reserved for members of the dynasty. The dark blue eyes are red now; the thin blood vessels in them are torn and emptied. His body seemed to suck the light out of the hall inside, casting a shadow over the room. There are no scars on his smooth face, but the sunken cheeks and hollow eyes spoke of a suffering that went beyond physical wounds. YN almost wished she saw him dead; whatever this was, it was surely much worse. He raised his eyes slowly to meet hers; something flickered in them before turning back to their empty state. Feyd-Rautha parts his dry lips to say something to her—she can't understand a word he draws with his breath.

From the place nearby, the Baron's voice booms, his low, almost whisper-like vowels mending into one. His face, covered with layers of skin and dead cells, twists into what was meant to be a welcoming smile—the corners of his paper-thin lips dance, lowering themselves only to jump higher, and his eyes travel from one corner to another, unable to be still even for a moment. He speaks of things YN knows nothing about court intrigue, power struggles, and alliances that shape the fate of their world, heavy with hidden meanings and unspoken threats. She does not listen until he gestures towards her, a scent of spice and decomposing flesh lingering.

''Sergeant Voss has served me well, and his loyalty at the right time is not to be forgotten. Here, I bestow upon him the highest honour of all; what was once mine, is now his. Do not let go of her if she screams, Sergeant; the girl is a fine one.''

No. YN almost does not recognise the hand as her own as the man drags her to the bed that appeared out of nowhere, freezing with horror as the people around her continue to watch in silence, their eyes devoid of any emotion or empathy. The tradition, she notes, is the one she learned so much about bedding in front of the entire court as a symbol of unity. She choked on her own tears as the man smiled at her pleas for help; they seemed to make him even more pleased.

YN looks, frantically, to the place she saw Feyd-Rautha sitting just a moment before. He would help; surely, he would not let them do it to her—his servant, his concubine, his. But the seat is empty. The scream echoing through the hall does not register as hers right away; he has sold her. For his own freedom, for a chance to be free from the consequences of his own stupid actions. Surely, the Harkonnens could not get rid of her openly—it would mean war—but she was not immune to the man who now owned her. His hands travelled her body with such audacity that YN wanted to cut them off—to cut her chest just so she could not feel the fingers digging into her skin. A sole reminder she was a woman first and a human second.

Mountain lions are solitary hunters.

The man undressed himself quickly; all of the soldiers were trained to do so. She should run; she should fight back, but the pair of unmoving hands pinning her wrists down was a stark reminder of her helplessness. The man lowers himself closer, his hot breath against her neck making her shudder in fear. She can feel him against her skirts; she can feel the weight of his body pressing down on her. The adrenaline is pumping through her veins; she will survive. Whatever it fucking takes, even if her body is bruised and broken, she will survive.

They prefer to ambush their prey from behind by swiftly and cleanly breaking the neck.

She bites—her teeth launch towards his cheek, feeling the warm flesh give way beneath her. She sinks them deeper, making holes big enough to draw blood. It's hot, and sickening on her tongue, but she does not have time for these thoughts; her next blow is in his stomach, with his knee jammed into his gut. She can feel his body convulse in pain, giving her a chance to throw him on the bed, his broad back facing her.

If they haven’t broken the neck, they will suffocate the animal.

There is nothing around that could serve as a knife; her captors made sure of that, and the sheets are too thin to wrap around his neck. She looks around the room, desperate for something to use, but the space around her is empty. YN curses as the man regains his composure and begins to struggle against her hold. Her elbow meets his nose with a sickening crunch, causing blood to spurt out. She takes a breath in; her hand wraps around his neck, forming a tight hold as she goes into the headlock. She chokes him, so desperately trying to live. And the man trashes against her grip, his white face turning a deep shade of purple before finally going limp in her arms.

Shame.

A thing that followed her after every life she took is now absent. Maybe the Giedi Prime's cruelty did have its effect on her; YN feels nothing but a sense of emptiness as she stands over the lifeless body.

''Do you have any more men to gift me to, Baron Vladimir? The night is still young.''

Her voice has changed. It holds a certain hiss now, a rasp that wasn't present before; it has matured and bloomed into half an octave deeper tone. It bites through the noise easily, cutting sharply.

The Baron laughs. His eyes gleam with amusement as he gestures towards the door. "Plenty more where that came from, my dear, but it's enough for today. Here,'' he throws something in her, a smirk ghosting on his lips. ''You've earned it.''

YN catches it and inspects the object in her hand. A small, golden broche catches the light, glinting in the dimly lit room. A head of the Bighorn ram stares back at her, the symbol of House Harkonnen. The taste of victory mingled with the metallic tang, leaving a bittersweet sensation in her mouth. Joy courses her veins—she isn't afraid. Finally, she is not afraid. Finally, she can look at her blood-stained hands without humiliation. Is it her fault she was born a better knife than a person?

Bighorn sheep are not a primary food source in most areas. However, when a lion does kill a sheep, they typically will continue to do so over and over again, until the herd is depleted.

tag list:

@oh-you-mean-me @juliskopf @moonsoulk @mamawiggers1980 @ashy-kit

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kiefbowl · 2 months ago

Text

so I just made a couple posts about this post, and rereading it I am going to try to be charitable as possible to everyone involved, but the vibe of this post really bothers me. but op deleted the post so I'm blocking out all the names out of respect for that, but I want to talk about this post

I think this is a very normal ask. It's literally just "hey, what are your opinions" and I don't see why that shouldn't be welcomed in a supposed feminist space. questions drive conversation, and not everyone is of the same opinion, life experiences, or knowledge, you know?

To be charitable to the green poster, they're just answering. I do think the "is literally the most anti-punk and anti-feminist thing you can do without genuinely hurting other people" is a bit much, and I also think she's misreading the op. I read Op as asking "if you're a feminist, what are some of your general opinions on subversive make up, and here's a list of examples: goth punk emo" and green is saying "conforming to patriarchy is never punk, and make up is patriarchal."

So I think the next response from Op shows that she took it a little personal as if being called out for doing the most "anti-feminist thing you can do without genuinely hurting people," which to be fair I'd probably be a little miffed too on a first read. And I think she's trying to pull out her question a little bit more, trying to re-contextualize it so that green gets what she actually meant. But this is a casual social media site so she's being casual and social. She's saying "okay, sure, but I'm asking about make up trends that are outside of what's commercialized" but I guess the big no-no is that she said "not male fantasy." Because yes, I ultimately agree, just because it's a more subversive culture, doesn't mean it's specifically feminist, or that the trends with-in aren't dictated to some degree by male fantasy. And then of course she asks: "If a woman wants to, isn't it regressive to say she can't?" So, to be fair to Op, she never specifically asked if make-up was specifically feminist or punk. But to be fair to green, green never specifically said a woman can't wear make-up.

But this is when it goes a little sideways, because frankly neither of them were being rude-rude. But green's next response is pretty rude imo. I think the subtext is "you're a big dummy." Op is not, and Op's first ask is what actually could be a very interesting jumping off point to discuss a variety of intersecting interests for feminists. Because I'm going to be real with you, there is no "The Answer" to make-up. Just because make-up and consumerism is never specifically feminist, doesn't mean it's always specifically anti-feminist. Sub cultures like Goth can be multiple things at once - subversive, and conforming. They also don't exist solely in one way. Copse make-up isn't feminist not because it's make-up, but because it's just make-up. But, like, yeah there's an element of subversiveness within western culture. There's also an element of acceptance, as long as it stays in the agreed on designated zones. A tee-shirt can't be feminist, either. Even if the tee-shirt says something feminist-y and subversive, like idk "I hate men and I love to abort their children" or w/e. Like okay, it's just a tee-shirt. And if you didn't make it yourself, it was probably made with slave labor, anyway. So you can wear it to the feminist poetry open mic at the local coffee shop, and you can wear it to a conservative's house, and the reactions in either place don't prove much about it's effectiveness. But it is a form of self expression, it's a form of participating in our culture(s) one way or another, and women are people they do participate. They can't not. So participating with some level of intention is better than her letting life passively happen around her. It's just not one thing, which makes it interesting.

So with all that being said, I think op's response is a sassy response to feeling like they're being spoken to rudely, which I think is fair enough.

This is not fair enough, and I find it bizarre. Maybe I missed something in another comment or post, but Op didn't 1. talk down to anyone and 2. didn't insult anyone who disagreed with them. But, to be charitable to pink - I understand why some women are on edge with the proliferation of troll accounts. But my ultimate advice to any women, young or old, trying to participate in a feminist space is to know that feminism is not a "solved" thing. Women have a variety of ways to think and approach a problem, and just because two ideas are conflicting doesn't mean they can't both have some merit. And since I think Op is a genuine person, this comes across as ostracizing a woman for asking a good natured, good willed question towards feminists to incite some discussion. A thing that should be welcomed if anything.

And then this response tries to be fair to Op, but also seems completely tone deaf to what she ever said. When in any of this exchange did Op ask for validation on anything? She admitted she is in a sub culture that both men and women use make up in, didn't specify what the subculture was, and then asked "hey, what are your opinions on this situation a little outside the norm of how we normally criticism make up." Then reacted to what one person's responses were, which the first response was simply direct but the second one was dismissive and rude.

So my point is, in order to be a successful feminist, I think you need to be able to navigate conversations with women that involve thinking outside the bun without devolving into sassiness when they aren't in complete lock step with you and have a predictable amount of curiosity. Feminism is a living discipline, and this could have been a moment of a meeting of the minds and a moment of cooperation to consider multiple sides of a question. That should be the ultimate goal.

And, to circle back to complete fairness of green's first response: when women are being direct with you, and maybe even misreading you a bit, it's worth taking a beat and thinking "can I read this in a kind tone at all? and if yes I'm going to assume that was the intention" because it can help get these conversations moving in the direction of cooperation rather than fighting.

And ultimately, have fun out there :)

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whispering-ways · 1 year ago

Note

Hello! I was wondering if you could make a Dom!Gyomei x Fem!Hashira!reader smut?

๑✧♡ heart to heart ♡✧๑

✧ summary: you are a recent hashira who's been assigned on a mission with gyomei

✧ pairing: gyomei himejima x f!reader

✧tags: cursing, fingering (f! receiving), nicknames like baby, sweetheart and daddy

✧ notes: i'm sorry for the delay in fics, but I'm working through all my tasks rn! i've been applying to grad school so i haven't had much time to write •́⁠ ⁠ ⁠‿⁠ ⁠,⁠•̀ but now that's done with, I can start pumping out some more fics ♡ i might write a part two to this with more smut if people like it but idk

You just finished training and were about to gather your things to relax when you felt a large hand on your shoulder. “Hey there! I couldn't help but notice your impressive training session! As a newcomer, you were quite remarkable! But next time, I feel you should improve your stance and work on....”

“Ugh, there he goes again,” you think, listening to Gyomei list out some improvements you could make to be a better Hashira. You tuned his words out and tried your best not to get irritated, but you couldn’t help it. He was always correcting your technique and giving you advice when you didn’t even ask for it.

You understood that it was probably because you had just recently become a Hashira, but his comments were unneeded in your book. You couldn’t place all the blame on him though; it was Kagaya after all that told his right-hand Hashira to take care of you and ‘help you feel welcome’. Nevertheless, it still pissed you off. It’s not like you didn’t know you needed improvement. It was just him saying it that annoyed you.

You knew you probably should keep an open mind before judging Gyomei. It’s not like he was a bad person; he was a kind and nice person, but something about his holier-than-thou attitude just made all his ‘observations’ come across as patronizing to you. I mean, you never asked for his opinion to begin with. If you needed someone’s opinion, you would just ask Kagaya. You rolled your eyes, wondering when Gyomei would just leave you alone.

“Ah, I regret that I failed to mention it earlier, but Kagaya-sama has entrusted us with a mission. I was initially supposed to undertake it solo, but he believes having both of us together would be advantageous. It seems he has faith in your abilities, but he also believes having me by your side for your first mission could aid in your personal growth,” he said with a hint of a smile. That was new; he never smiled.

“Weird, but you know what, good for him. It wouldn’t hurt to smile once in a fucking while. Crying all the time has got to be making his eyes hurt. But there he goes being patronizing again. You wouldn’t be surprised if Gyomei was the one who really suggested it to Kagaya rather than the other way around.

Regardless, you nodded your head and asked some more details about the mission. He let you know that you both had to set out on your journey at 6 a.m. sharp tomorrow. So you gave him another nod of understanding, hoping that’d indicate you wanted to be left alone. Thankfully he got the message and shortly after walked away, leaving you to spend the rest of the day getting the relaxation you knew you deserved.

You woke up early the next day to pack a bit for the 2 day trip ahead of you. After gathering a few things and putting them into a bag, you headed out to meet Gyomei. Luckily, it didn’t take you long to find him. As you opened your door to see him standing right outside your door. “Jesus, you scared me. Couldn’t you at least knock or something?,” you asked, already annoyed with him.

“Ah, I’m sorry, I’ll make sure to do that next time we go on a mission.”

It was almost cute that he thought you’d want to do another mission with him. You would rather eat a bag of nails for breakfast instead; the only reason you were going on this mission was because you didn’t want to be rude to Kagaya.

You close your door behind you and let out an exasperated sigh, readying yourself for the journey. “Okay, as long as you’re ready, let’s get going then.” Gyomei grabbed a small bag behind him, threw it above his shoulder and said, “That’s the spirit! Starting early is always the best!”

After about 30 minutes of walking, you’d both finally reached the grassy mountain you needed to trek to get to your final destination. You weren’t gonna lie, just the thought of trekking it made you tired, but you needed the mission experience, so you trudged forward.

It didn’t help that Gyomei was so far ahead; it was like he was rubbing in your face how much better he was than you. He stopped for a second to look around, which gave you just enough time to catch up with him. “Can’t you slow down? Your pace is like a giant’s, there’s no fucking way I can keep up,” you exclaim.

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize, sweetheart. I’ll be sure to slow down a bit! Please forgive me!” he said, tears rolling down his face.

“It’s fine, just...let’s get going,” you replied, continuing to walk along the path. You regretted asking him to slow down a couple of minutes later when he tried making small talk by asking millions of questions. If walking way off from you was irritating, then this was just pure hell.

You’re sure he can tell how pissed you are; your tight-lipped smile showed nothing but disdain for all his questions. But he just kept on talking anyway. A few minutes later and after trying to ignore him, you give up and decide to succumb to some small talk. You talked to him for a little bit about the mission, but that didn’t last too long as you noticed a slight drizzle start to cover the mountain.

The two of you started closer to the trees near you, hoping that their large spanning branches would keep you both somewhat dry. All chances of that happening left once the light drizzle turned into a heavy pour. There was no way that you both could continue your journey without getting hurt since the earth beneath you had become absolutely slick with water.

You two decided to wait out the rain and find shelter to keep you both dry for the time being. After what seemed like forever, you finally spot a broken-down house in your periphery and quickly get Gyomei’s attention, dying to get out of the rain as soon as possible.

“Look, there’s a house or something over there,” you say pointing at the building. “Let’s head there and hope the family is hospitable enough to let us stay there for a bit till the sky clears up.” You start walking in the direction of the house without even waiting for a reply from Gyomei, who starts wordlessly walking behind you.

As you get closer to the house, you notice how delipidated it really is. It seemed that no one had lived there in years. Almost all the windows were either cracked or completely broken; dust and cobwebs were littered in each corner of the house.

“Well it’s not a palace but at least it’ll keep us out of the rain,” you said, wiping off some dirt so you could finally sit down. You stretched your legs, sighing in relief, glad to finally catch a break.

You closed your eyes, enjoying the peaceful sound of the rain. The peace didn’t last too long as you heard some rustling noises behind you. You turn around to see Gyomei pull out a sleeping bag from his backpack along with a lantern.

“I think that the rain isn’t going to let up anytime soon, so I’m setting up for the night. I think the best decision is to sleep here tonight and start on our journey tomorrow,” he explains, sitting on his bed. “If you’d like, I can set up your bed as well.”

“It's fine, I didn’t even bring a bed anyway. If we have to sleep here tonight, I’ll just sleep on the floor,” you say, turning around. “Besides, it’ll work out the kinks in my back.”

“Nonsense, I insist you take the sleeping bag then!” Gyomei retorted.

“No I��m fine, you use your bed; you’re the one that brought it. I’ll be fine.”

“If you insist,” he says, continuing to set up. He pulled out some supplies from his bag to light the lantern and in a few moments, the whole house was filled with golden light, making the space as comfy as it could be.

But unfortunately, not even the warmth the lantern brought helped to make the house any less cold. The rain kept pouring and with it came a frigid breeze that swept through all corners of the house.

You tried to keep it discreet but there was no hiding the chattering of your teeth. Gyomei soon picked up on it too. At first, he did his best not to comment; after all, it did seem like you wanted your own space. But his worry for you took over and he yet again asked “Hey, are you sure you don’t want the bed?”

“Ugh..I told you I’m fine. It’s your bed, use your bed,” you replied back, annoyed he kept pressing the issue.

“Are you really fine? I can hear your shivers from here. I know it’s cold and the bed is quite spacious anyway so it wouldn’t be too much trouble at all,” Gyomei said scooting over to offer a spot on the sleeping bag. You couldn’t lie, you were pretty cold so you gave in and agreed to share the bag. You stood up and sat down next to him, leaving ample space between you two.

A few moments pass by with nothing but the sound of rain to fill in the awkward silence between you two. This was soon broken though when Gyomei said “So...what do you think about being a Hashira?

“Jesus fucking Christ, why’d he have to say something,” you thought, internally cringing at the fact that you now had to make small talk. “Uhh..well I guess it's um... good I guess. I don’t really know what to say,” you reply as you look towards the ground and lantern, anywhere besides Gyomei’s face.

“Ah, that’s wonderful! I’m glad you’re having a good start! I hope you like the other Hashira, they are like family to me,” he says, a small smile spreading across his face.

“Oh, cool. That’s always...uhh...real nice I guess,” you say, trying to remain as cold as possible. Your plan was to get him off your back and to leave you alone, but as time passed on, it didn’t seem like you were ever going to shake him off as he told you many stories of the other Hashira.

“I know we must be together for our line of work, but I truly consider all the Hashira my close friends. Or well, at least most of them I think...” he said, trailing off. You couldn’t help but be intrigued at the end of his sentence.

Now you were never one to gossip, but you were definitely a sucker for a bit of tea, and his phrasing definitely showed signs of a bit of tea. I mean Gyomei? Having beef with someone? Unheard of.

“Oh come on, you can’t just drop a statement like that without spilling the tea...” You press,, not prepared to give up. “No details, no good tea.”

You could see Gyomei squirming around a bit, debating whether he should explain or not. After a little bit, he sighs and looks at you, as if preparing himself.

“Okay...it’s just, you, we don’t have that strong of a relationship. I feel like you just don’t like me for some reason and however I look at it, I can’t seem to figure out what I did.”

“Fuck, I should’ve kept my mouth shut,” you thought. You didn’t want to get into this conversation now, not ever really. But you couldn’t just leave him hanging like that. You buried your face in your hands, letting out a long sigh. “It’s not that I don’t like you. I don’t have problems with you.”

“Then what is it because there must’ve been something I did. Everything we talk you just seem tired and annoyed,” Gyomei said.

“Look, I don't hate you, but sometimes it feels like I'm just an inferior version of you. Like, when you're so good at what you do, it's hard to feel like we're on the same level. And sometimes, these little comments you throw at me, even if you don't mean them in a bad way, make me feel like I'm not good enough for us to be equals.

I mean, you're like a prodigy with so much experience. It's hard not to feel like I'm always lagging behind you, you know?" You were doing your best to explain how you felt, but just hearing yourself made it obvious to you that your disdain was immature.

“For me, you’ve always been my equal. You’ve got a solid foundation of abilities and experience that match up with my own. However, things felt pushed too fast for me; I never got the chance to properly settle into being a Hashira. I’m doing my best to get a hang of this new position, but sometimes it’s hard not to feel like I’m falling short of everyone. So I guess in that sense, I really am not your equal,” Gyomei says, looking down to the floor.

There's a quiet gap between you two before you say, "...Yeah, I guess I judged you pretty quickly. I should've been more open to what you had to say, but I wanted to be a perfect Hashira, you know? Taking criticism is just a little hard for me, but I'll work on that in the future." You feel somewhat foolish after talking about how you felt; none of this coldness was really necessary to begin with - your dislike towards Gyomei felt almost useless.

"I apologize if my criticisms appeared more judgmental than I intended. However, in my opinion, you're already perfect like a diamond; you're a Hashira for a reason. Still, all diamonds require a bit of polishing, and that's all I was aiming for - to help you shine with some advice and techniques," he said cheerfully.

You have to admit, that comparison of his got you a little flustered. Yet, its sweetness gave you a lot of comfort. "Let's put this aside and be friends, alright? Let's start all over, and I'm sorry for not giving you a chance earlier," you say with a smile, shocked that you're actually having a conversation with Gyomei like this.

“I’m glad to hear that. It’s nice to see such a beautiful smile on you for the first time.” You look up at him, eyes wider than saucers. “Not that you aren’t pretty all the time...I mean..but you know that.” Gyomei said, red from head to toe.

You chuckle at Gyomei's flustered state, finding it endearing to see the big strong man reduced to a blushing mess. He's truly a sight to behold. "If I said you were a sight for sore eyes, I'd be selling you short," you comment in turn.

Out of nowhere, a gust of cold air hits your body, sending tingles down your spine. "Would you...uhh...like to come a little closer?" Gyomei proposes. "I noticed you shiver and I run pretty warm. I wouldn't mind a platonic cuddle to stay warm, if you're alright with that."

You never thought making up with him would mean that you’d be flirting with him, but you couldn’t complain. I mean he was hot and you wouldn’t mind messing around with him a little bit.

So you scooch a bit closer to him, your arms barely grazing his. He was right, he definitely was warm; you could feel the heat radiating off of him. But that still wasn’t enough to warm you up.

You're somewhat confused when you hear Gyomei laugh. He adjusts his position and spreads his legs apart, as if offering you a spot to sit. "Come, sit a little closer, there's no way you're feeling warm there," he says, patting the area between his legs.

Taken by surprise by his forwardness, you nonetheless place yourself between him, your legs resting against his. It's a little awkward between you, but you aren't one to back down from a challenge, and he IS rather warm.

You’d never really noticed the size difference between you two, but you definitely did now. His muscled thighs surrounds you, practically pressing your own togtether. He stretches back behind you to give you some space. You sit for a little bit and you both kind of sink into the feeling of being so close to him.

Gyomei looks down to you and asks, "Can I help keep you a little warmer?" Hesitant, you nod in agreement - but deep down, you can feel your cheeks get hot just by looking at him. This sudden rush feels like it's moving far too fast for anything meaningful to come out of it, but something about it just feels right.

He suddenly lifts you up and sits down in a cross-legged position, placing you right into his lap. The ease with which he picks you up surprises you, but you're not thinking about warmth at all now.

“How are you feeling now? Warmer?” Gyomei says.

"Yes, this...it feels pretty nice," you answer, leaning your back against his chest. At first, the touch of his hand on your thigh is nice - but once you've settled, it becomes almost...teasing. The warmth is nice, yeah, but enough teasing already, so you decide to make your own move.

You get up from his lap, leaving Gyomei worried he pushed too far. But that feeling dissipated once you sat back on his lap, now facing him with your legs wrapped around him. You looked up at him through your eyelashes to see him absolutely flustered. He puts his hands on your back bringing you closer. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were flirting with me Gyomei.”

He pulls back, a little shocked, but it doesn’t take him long to reply “Hmm... perhaps I am.”

“Oh yeah?”

The sexual tension is practically tangible, but you neither speak nor move as you gaze at his lips. Only your eyes speak; he understands and moves in for a passionate kiss.

The unexpected roughness is a surprise, but a welcome one, as you melt into his embrace and grasp for a hold on his neck, drawing him closer to you, your body flush against his. One hand reaches for his chest, using his necklace to pull him as close as he can be - his hands on your waist, just barely touching your hips.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue running along his own bottom lip, requesting entrance into your mouth. Once you opened your mouth, his tongue enters once more, and the sensation sent a wave of chills down your spine.

You slip your arms around his neck to pull him in closer, your body pressed against his as your skin ignites with a flame of excitement. He pulls you back slightly, exposing your neck to him, before diving in once more to to suck on your neck. You whine out under his touch, squirming with delight beneath him.

He bites down hard, leaving a hickey in his wake. He takes a moment to proudly admire it, only to pull you into his arms, leaving you mildly confused. He suddenly lifted you and placed you against the wall, his arms slamming at either side of you as he began to kiss you again.

Gyomei's hand slides down your side, coming to rest on the back of your knee. He uses his other hand to grab you firmly by your back and pull you in closer. You instinctively wrap your leg around his back, holding on tight now.

His hand departs from its prior position, as he casually caresses your inner thigh, his fingers brushing against your slit. He was taken aback to find that there were panties instead of the anticipated pair of shorts, but hey he wasn’t complaining. His fingers began to play with the edges of your panties, twirling them between his digits.

He eventually pauses and asks, "Are you okay if I go further?" as he begins to tease your slit with his fingers.

You nod wordlessly and he continues to kiss you. Your body trembles in anticipation as Gyomei's tender lips lightly graze yours. He pulls you close, and with a swift gesture, he removes your panties and tosses them to the side. The touch of his fingers sends electric shocks throughout your body.

Your body quivers with anticipation, your heart beating erratically as his lips trail down toward yours. He removes your panties with a swift motion, discarding them carelessly to the side. His skilled fingers lightly tease your clit, eliciting a muffled moan.

His middle finger circles your entrance, before plunging in with no warning. His finger was bigger and thicker than anything you’d ever felt before, so when he added another finger, it nearly overwhelmed you with pleasure.

You feel like your knees are about to give out, but your body can't help but squirm. Gyomei looks at you with a passionate glare. In a frustrated tone, he asks, "Sweetheart, you're gonna have to stop squirming around like that, how am I gonna make you feel good if you do?"

“I’ll do my best...not to~,” you moan out as he continues to relentlessy pound his fingers into your pussy.

“If you want more pleasure, you gotta call me daddy princess.”

"I...I promise not to squirm then daddy," you whine as you try to maintain a firm grip on your promise. However, despite your desperate efforts, you end up squirming more as you near climax.

Gyomei suddenly stops and states, "You're still squirming baby. You can't disobey your promise to daddy. But don't you worry, I have the perfect solution for this."

Gyomei's arm effortlessly slides towards the back of your knees and he slings you over his shoulder, leaving you in a state of shock. You start smacking his back, in hopes that he’d put you down.

Yet, instead of providing an explanation, Gyomei simply laughs. "I love how feisty you are," he comments, smacking your ass and leaving a glowing red handprint in its wake.

"Just you wait, baby. I'm gonna make you feel so good," he states, a playful gleam in his eyes. You stare up at him with anticipation, excited for what he was going to do next. Little did you know what the night had in store for you.

#demon slayer #gyomei himejima #kny gyomei #gyomei x reader #demon slayer gyomei #kimetsu gyomei #kny x reader #kny fanfic #himejima x reader #kny himejima #demon slayer smut #gyomei smut #kny smut #himejima smut #gyomei himejima smut #demon slayer gyomei himejima #kny smut fanfic #demon slayer fanfic

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evvyyypeters-fics · 3 months ago

Text

Intro/ Rules!!!

Hey! Welcome to my blog!

Just a disclaimer that I did have another blog, but that one got deleted on accident because I’m a silly goose so most of my posts in the start are reuploads from that account! (Boosts on reuploads are appreciated if you're seeing this at a recent time.)

Please follow my main account if you want to. Where I post my more personal, opinionated and laid back content.

This account is for my writing. I mainly write fics based around Evan Peters, but I will (rarely) post some more original content or even dip into different fandoms or familiar characters.

My requests are always open unless stated otherwise! Please feel free to send me your ideas and I will try and get to them as quickly as possible! Please make sure to read the rules (below) before sending a request!

Rules for sending a request

(Warning! I am still a student and I also get burnt out really easily, so please expect a week long MINIMUM before recieving your fic request. I will try my hardest to get to all requests, and ASAP, but I will not make promises to anyone. Even mutuals. Please keep in mind my mental health and work schedule, thank you.)

Dos:

Any character portrayed by Evan Peters or Evan himself (Disclaimer: All fics pertaining to Evan himself are NOT accurate depictions of the real-life counterpart/ his character. I will have a warning on those fics that they should only be seen as a fictional/ dramatic/ idealistic version of him and is not meant to substitute as real information or depiction of him.)

Any character from AHS (American Horror Story)

Other fandoms I’m in: MOE (Mare of Easttown), Umbrella Academy, Challengers, OBX, RE (Resident Evil), Pedro Pascal (drool), Heathers, My Life With the Walter Boys, The Last Of Us, NARCOS, YOU, Riverdale (might add more in the future. This isn’t guaranteed, but if you’re interested in me writing for any of these please suggest them to me.)

Smut, fluff, angst, whatever

I’m not picky, anything is fine with me unless it crosses my boundaries (below)

Don’ts (ick):

Scat and vomit fetishes. Absolutely not. Hard no. Not sorry.

Vore or any weird shit like cannibalism and other more “alternative” kinks

Any sort of r4pe or 4ssault/ non-con. I might delve into dub-con but there will still be a basis of consent (like a previous discussion or understanding).

Any sort of incest. That includes step-cest. Absolutely not.

Illegal age gaps or hard age gaps and ageplay. This includes an 18 year old/ barely legal with anyone over 24. My age gaps will always be 20+ if it includes someone the age of 30 or over. I will also not do any sort of ddlg or “littles”. It’s not my forte and I especially won’t do it if you sexualize it.

On the topic of age, all characters (including reader) will be 18+ when it comes to smut or sexual-related fics. I will try to add this warning when it is crucial to specific characters, but please know that all characters that you request smut of that are originally minors WILL be aged up and that will be depicted inside the fic. There is no exceptions to this rule.

MLM, (T)MLM, (T)FLM, etc. are a no for me. As AFAB I only know how to write for the cis-fem experience and while I love my gays and theys, I just don’t feel comfortable in my ability to do gay or trans/ trans-gay relationships justice. I also don’t feel that it’s my place to write for them. On this note, most of my fics will be reader x male character related but that does not mean that I won't write F4F just because that's in my comfort zone and I understand that experience better.

Too specific of reader details. This also goes into what I said above, but I will no write for race or body type specific readers. I am a cis-white averagely sized woman and while I’m a hard ally, I genuinely just don’t believe I can accurately depict those experiences or people so I will always try and keep the reader as blank as possible so that anyone who reads my fics can be in that character’s shoes.

Tangent: Sadly, I don’t write lots of GN fics just because as a writer I DO insert myself into the story because visualization is how I write. So often the reader will be fem and may have more euro-centric features, typically unintentional. If you have a problem with that, I recommend you find another writer to consume/ create your fic ideas or make your own. (Please do, we need more writers in the EP fandom. This is tough work, truly.)

Now that we’re past the hard stuff, here’s some information about me! (Some may have been clarified before, but here’s a clearer run-down.)

Basic Information about me:

You can call me Evie or Evvy!

I go by she/her and they/them

I’m cis-fem and bisexual!

Some of my hobbies:

Writing (obviously)

Reading (duh)

Drawing (check out my main account for some fanart)

Collecting Bear Paraphernalia (figures, mugs, plushies, t-shirts, etc.)

Collecting vintage

Thrifting

Fashion

Some of my favorite musical artists!:

Lana Del Rey

Ethel Cain

Mazzy Star

Boa

The Smiths

Lesley Gore

Queen

Skeeter Davis

Lady Gaga

Deftones

Morrissey

Chappel Roan

Akira Yamaoka (underrated producer IMO)

Many others I will spare you to not list, including VOCALOID artists under this part

My favorite movies/ shows!:

AHS (uhm)

MOE

The Days 2004

Anything by Tim Burton and Jim Henson

My Life With the Walter Boys (cringe I know, but Noah Lalonde is so hot ok pls spare me)

Pearl, Maxxxine, etc

Anything by Sofia Coppola (queen)

The Breakfast Club

Pretty in Pink

Sixteen Candles

Riverdale (yes, sadly. Bughead is otp idc)

Alice in Wonderland (you know which one)

My favorite books:

The Virgin Suicides

Girl, Interrupted

Cuckoo Song

The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo series

Nana

Honestly anything by Ai Yazawa

Anything by Clamp

The Stranger

Lolita

My favorite games:

Silent Hill

Resident Evil

American McGees Alice in Wonderland

Siren series

Sims4

Animal Crossing

Alice by American McGee series

Anything by Puppet Combo and 616 Games

Hatsune Miku Project Diva and Mirari

My favorite Celebrities:

Evan Peters (no comment.)

Taissa Farmiga

Lily Rabe

Pedro Pascal

Noah Lalonde

Christian Slater

Emma Watson

Lana Del Rey

Lady Gaga

Chappel Roan

Aurora

Lili Reinhart

Things I hate (despise):

Emma Roberts

Julia Roberts

The Roberts

Tumblr creeps

Creeps in general

Bigots

Emma Roberts

Halsey

Incest

Zionists

Did I mention Emma Roberts?

Emma Snoberts

Thank you so much for reading this yap session of information! Please boost my posts if you’re willing and able, it really helps with reach and gives me motivation to keep writing! I love seeing all of your reactions to my work!

If you wish to contact me, whether about your requests or just to become friends/ mutuals and just chat, please feel free! My door is always open to anyone who wants to have a friendly discussion, or if you want to know more about me!

Masterlist to be added...

Main Account if you didn't see it

Tagging to boost/ mooties/ ahs fans (mainly users I can remember rn cuz my spirit animal is literally Dory from Finding Nemo istg):

@fear-is-truth @jazz-berry @irl-violetharmon @taintandviolent @evanpeterswifeyyy @lemoniiiiiii @t8-ak47

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coochellati · 3 months ago

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hi hi! Long time fan of your blog—and It’s really inspired me to write my own Bruno fic, any tips for a first time bruno writer?

HELLO!!! 💕

First of all, I just want to say thank you so much!!! Your kind words have made my day—no, my month. 😭🩷 AHHH I LOVE THIS QUESTION!!!

Okay, so I have a big tip for writing Bruno, (or anyone, really,) and I learned it in Araki’s book, Manga in Theory and Practice. This is a technique he uses to make sure his characters are always acting “in-character.”

Every time Araki creates a new character, he fills out a character history sheet for them. It’s a basic sheet containing all sorts of important stuff such as their personality traits, dreams for the future, forming childhood experiences fears, etc., and he uses that sheet to figure out how his character would react to any given situation. In Manga in Theory and Practice, Araki includes a blank Character Sheet and an example of what a filled-out one may look like.

(this isn’t actually the original Dio character history sheet—Araki lost the OG. This version was made from memory. I don’t know if the original was actually this blank.)

Since Araki hasn’t released one for Bruno, I decided to make my own.

(This image is huge. HUGE. 6232 x 5519px!! Unfortunately, tumblr compressed it so you can’t read all the tiny writing :( can you tell I was an overachiever in school? Here’s a link to the uncompressed photo in Google Drive!!)

You are welcome to use this sheet if you’d like! (Anyone reading this is free to use it.) This sheet contains canon information as well as my assumptions/headcanons since Araki hasn’t given any kind of answer to some of these questions. You don’t have to agree with them. After all, everyone has their own interpretation of Bruno Bucciarati—this is just the way I see him.

Here’s how my process goes: whenever I put Bruno into a situation where I’m not sure how he’s going to react, I consult the character history chart.

For instance: what if Bruno is in a situation where he catches reader smoking weed?

This is something I haven’t always been sure as to what he’d do—I’ve changed my opinion on this multiple times. Weed is legal in many places, after all. However, after looking at my filled-out character sheet, I now have a more solid idea of how he could react.

Canon information: Bruno’s dad (his only immediate family) became injured because he witnessed a drug deal. (Which ultimately led to his death.) The way Bruno sees it, drugs killed his father. He also can get very worked up over matters that are personal to him, such as when Diavolo attempted to kill Trish, or when he caught Passione peddling drugs.

Using this information, I believe that Bruno is probably going to be very angry at reader, even if it is legal nowadays. It wasn’t very legal in 2001, and Passione likely trafficked weed on top of everything else. Sure, weed isn’t cocaine, but it was still a very stigmatized drug at the time.

(so yeah. Bruno would not be very thrilled about my love for Mary Jane… I’d quit for him. Also, this is just my assumption—it’s okay if you don’t agree with me. There are infinite ways to interpret a character, and your opinion is just as valid as mine.)

My advice to you is to fill out your own character sheet! Here’s a version that has no headcanons/assumptions if that helps :) (Unless you want to use mine, lol. But I know my word isn’t gospel, and you likely have differing opinions on him.) If you want to reword it entirely, here’s a full-res blank version!

Another reason I recommend this because you’ll really get to study his character. Being forced to think about his strengths/weaknesses, forming experiences, the relationships he has with others, or hell, even where he was born can really help form an idea of the character you’re writing. Through this exercise, I feel like I’ve gotten closer to Bruno. When it’s a character you love, filling this out feels like you’re spending time with them.

I’d also like to note that this character history chart is ever-evolving. As I continue studying Bruno's character, my opinions and mental images of him become clearer. It feels like I'm a sculptor carving a statue out of marble, gaining a more defined picture with each detail I learn. The sheet above reflects my view of him at this current moment in time, and it will likely change in the future.

Another tip I have for you relates to writing his dialogue. Bruno can be a little weird. For instance, he often speaks quite eloquently:

He’s very self-assured:

But then, there’s moments like this:

I recommend studying his speech patterns. Hell, I’m always learning more about the way he speaks.

I’ll leave you with this: In the end, there is no “right” or “wrong” way to write Bruno. How you write him is up to you, and your interpretation is just as valid as anyone else’s. Don’t worry about what others may think about your version of him—just do what feels right for you. Write Bruno the way you see fit. :)

I hope this helps!!!! Don’t forget to have fun. 💕

thanks for the ask!! <3

#bruno bucciarati #bruno buccellati #jjba x reader #vento aureo #bucciarati #jojo’s bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #my asks #vento aureo x reader

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yandere-daze · 6 months ago

Note

Hello first time anon here!

I had questions about your yandere genshin academy au. Does a yandere ever pretend to be a darling, kind of like the inverse of the current situation? I was wondering because if they have a darling that was turned off by yandere actions and wouldn't allow others to get close, this would be a way to earn their trust. Also do darlings ever turn yandere or are they just born one way or the other?

Hello, welcome to the blog! I hope you´re having a good time here ^^

These are a lot of good questions so let me just give my opinion on them one by one!

tw yandere, normalized yandere behaviour, mentions of obsessive behaviour, stalking, blood

I think in an AU like this, yanderes don´t try to hide their yandere tendencies as much as they normally would. These sort of yandere x darling relationships are kind of idealized actually and so they often don´t see a reason to hide their own intentions.

I mean surely their beloved darling can see that they´re perfect for each other, right? What the yandere feels is completely normal so why should they feel ashamed and try to hide the way they feel for their beloved? What´s wrong with following someone home or sending them love letters covered in blood? Aren´t they just being romantic?

So in most cases, I´d say yanderes wouldn´t really try to hide.

One exception I can see is in the early stages, when they aren´t 100% sure how their darling feels about yanderes. Because you see, apparently there are people out there that see yandere behaviour as "immoral" or "unhealthy"? It´s almost unthinkable but these poor people must have had these misguided thoughts put into their heads...

So because the yandere can´t be quite sure about their darling not being so "unreasonable" they might be inclined to hide their obsession for a while until they´re sure. And acting as their darling´s friend is a good way to subtly get rid of their other friends too! And besides, a close friendship can often lead to romance, right?

2. Hm, I wouldn´t really say that darlings are born that way. Yanderes and darlings aren´t really different species so to say. Yanderes aren´t born like this either. These types of behavior emmerge similarily as they do in real life. Obsessive feelings and possessive urges can develop throughout a person´s life experiences.

Sometimes they only turn into a yandere once they´ve met their beloved for the first time.

How people become yanderes isn´t any different in this au, it´s just how that type of affection is seen in society that´s the difference.

So yes, under the "right" circumstances, whether that being a traumatic event or a lot of stress and pressure, a darling can turn into a yandere themselves.

Tag list:

@charming-mage @blueventss @tonightwrites @lady-of-the-sith-leia-skywalker @kio-may @heartsforseo @1aplepi @shiki-jin

#yandere genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #normalized yandere au #yandere academy au #genshin yandere academy au #genshin normalized yandere au #yandere #yandere x reader #gn reader #cw yandere #cw stalking #cw blood

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xjulixred45x · 2 months ago

Note

In the crossover between Dead Plate and My Child Lebensborn, what measures would Rody and Vince take with the Professor Solheim matter? What legal (and illegal) means would they take against him?

TW: MENTION/IMPLICATION OF CSA, PTSD ON CHILDREN, MURDER, ETC.

Ow man...

First of all, I don't think that either Vince or Rody would go unnoticed by the changes in attitude in their respective children, but definitely at the beginning they thought it was because of the Bullying issue than anything else (although they knew about Professor Solheim thanks to the bad guys). moments they put the kids through before this, you can tell they hated it before).

Surprisingly I think Rody might be the first to think that something is wrong with Klaus at school. Rody is much more trustworthy than Vince, so it wouldn't be strange if out of the blue Klaus tells Rody that he doesn't want to go to school or that he doesn't specifically want to go to Professor Solheim's classes.

Rody finds it strange at first, but soon realizes that Klaus wouldn't ask to skip school if something really bad was going on (not just bullying). this + when Klaus starts having clear PTSD episodes, make Rody not let Klaus go to school and have a serious talk with him.

When does Rody find out? God, he's devastated to hear Klaus telling him what happened and repeating that it's not his fault and he's right! It's not Klaus' fault. Rody focuses on comforting his little brother and letting him know that he shouldn't hide things like that, that he loves him and is sorry he couldn't prevent this, etc. In general, both of them crying together for a long time.

As for the actions Rody would take against Solheim, it's canon that he would hide a body for Manon, so I can see him going to kick Solheim's ass and even threatening him to never go near Klaus again. and this guy is STRONG (canonically he could break your arm by ACCIDENT, imagine what he could do on purpose), so he won't be satisfied unless Solheim has at least 5 broken bones.

(I can't go into much detail about the legality because Rody is broke bad, but maybe he could convince the other parents to file a class action lawsuit, also being the 60s I don't think Rody would want to put Klaus in that situation or re-traumatize him, SO i think that's all that he would do, not because he wants to, but bc it's all he can do).

Vincent, on the other hand, would take longer to notice the warning signs, since while he is observant, he is also constantly busy during the events of the game, so probably the closest thing he would have to a direct signal would be a of Karin's nannies said that she is acting strange.

and Vince begins to notice these more abrupt changes, how Karin is now more reserved and even rude, how she almost doesn't talk to him anymore (it would take an EMBARRASSING amount of time), etc.

although the definitive warning sign for Vince would be 1) that Karin doesn't want to be bathed and 2) that she doesn't even want to eat. He knows that SOMETHING happened and that Karin is too traumatized to say it, but she is giving him quite direct signals, which leads him to realize what happened, horrified.

Vince is definitely more clumsy when it comes to comforting Karin, but he doesn't lack desire. He mainly tries to comfort her by giving her her favorite foods and giving her a free pass to do whatever she wants (skip school, eat outside food, etc.). and even trying to be more physically affectionate (mainly giving her more hugs, this experience definitely made him realize how much he misses that side of Karin).

As for Solheim...he will be lucky if Vince decides to take the LEGAL route (if that were the case, Solheim would never come out of it, since with how well-known Vince is, public opinion would definitely DESTROY Solheim if Vince don't do it first). Vince tends to be erratic at times like this, so it would be very easy for him to get rid of Solheim PERMANENTLY, it's better that way, he wouldn't have to worry about it hurting Karin anymore.

I think Vincent would feel more guilty than he lets on, precisely because Karin doesn't even feel comfortable telling him what exactly happened (she probably explains it with drawings) and would try to improve his pedagogical skills based on this.

Rody is really just doing his best and still doesn't feel like enough, plus he's probably going to dump all this guilt and bad feelings on Solheim (with a good beating), and ressure Klaus about that 1) it's not His fault and 2) he loves him nonetheless.

Mind you, I don't think either of them will let Karin/Klaus go to school anytime soon, good luck with that.

In general, they both react differently, but they will do ANYTHING to get Solheim out of the picture and give the kids peace/closure.

BONUS: MANON

She would definitely be the one who found out first! (whether being with Rody or babysitting for Vince), she has both Rody's sweetness and Vince's questionable methods (time to make Rody hide the body...)

____

(ESPAÑOL)

TW: MENCION/IMPLICACION DE ABU$O SEXUAL INFANTIL, TEPT EN NIÑOS, ASESINATO, ETC.

Hombre....

primero que nada, no creo que ni Vince ni Rody pasarian por desapercibido los cambios de actitud en sus respectivos niños, pero definitivamente al principio pensaban que era por la cuestion del Bullying que por otra cosa(aunque ellos sabian del profesor Solheim gracias a los malos momentos que hicieron pasar a los niños antes de esto, puedes decir que lo odiaban desde antes).

Sorprendentemente creo que Rody podria ser el primero en pensar que algo anda mal con Klaus en la escuela. Rody da mucha mas confianza que Vince, por lo que no seria raro si de la nada Klaus le dice a Rody que no quiere ir a la escuela o que puntualmente no quiere ir a las clases del profesor Solheim.

Rody lo encuentra raro al principio, pero pronto se da cuenta de que Klaus no pediria faltar a la escuela si realmente algo malo estuviera pasando(no solo el Bullying). esto + cuando Klaus empieza a tener episodios claros de PTSD, hacen que Rody no deje que Klaus vaya a la escuela y tenga una charla seria con el.

¿cuando Rody se entera? dios, esta destrozado de escuchar a Klaus decirle lo que paso y repitiendo que no es su culpa ¡y tiene razon! no es culpa de Klaus. Rody se centra en consolar a su hermanito y hacerle saber que no debe ocultar ese tipo de cosas, que lo ama y lamenta no haber podido evitar esto, etc. en general ambos llorando juntos un buen rato.

en cuanto a las acciones que tomaria Rody en contra de Solheim, es canon que el ocultaria un cuerpo por Manon, asi que puedo verlo llendo a patearle el trasero a Solheim e incluso amenazandole con no acercarse a Klaus nunca mas. y este sujeto es FUERTE(canónicamente podria romperte el brazo por ACCIDENTE, imagínate lo que podria hacer adrede), asi que no estara sarisfecho a menos que Solheim tenga 5 huesos rotos, por lo menos.

(no puedo profundizar mucho en lo legal porque Rody esta en quiebra, pero talvez podria convencer a los demas padres para presentar una demanda colectiva, igualmente siendo los 60s no creo que Rody quisiera poner a Klaus en esa situación o re-traumatizarlo).

Vincent, por otro lado, tardaria mas en darse cuenta de las señales de alerta, ya que si bien es observador, tambien esta constantemente ocupado durante los eventos del juego, por lo que probablemente lo mas cercano que tendria a una señal directa seria que una de las nannys de Karin dijera que ella esta actuando extraño.

y Vince empieza a notar estos cambios mas bruscos, el como Karin ahora es mas reservada e incluso grosera, el como casi ya no le habla(le tomaria una cantidad VERGONZOSA de tiempo), etc.

aunque la señal de alerta definitiva para Vince seria el 1) el que Karin no quiere que la bañen y 2) que ella nisiquiera quiera comer. el sabe que ALGO paso y que Karin esta muy traumada para decirlo, pero le esta dando señales bastante directas, lo que lleva a que se de cuenta de lo que paso, horrorizado.

Vince es definitivamente mas torpe a la hora de consolar a Karin, pero no le faltan ganas. principalmente trata de reconfortarla dandole sus comidas favoritas y dandole pase libre para hacer lo que quiera(faltar a la escuela, comer comida de afuera, etc). e incluso tratando de ser mas afectivo físicamente (dandole mas abrazos principalmente, esta experiencia definitivamente le hizo darse cuenta de lo mucho que extraña ese lado de Karin).

en cuanto a Solheim...tendra suerte si es que Vince decide tomar la ruta LEGAL(si fuera asi, Solheim no saldria nunca, ya que con lo conocido que es Vince, definitivamente la opinión pública DESTRUIRIA a Solheim). Vince tiende a ser erratico en momentos como este, por lo que seria muy facil para el deshacerse de Solheim PERMANENTE, es mejor asi, no tendria que preocuparse de que le haga daño a Karin nunca mas.

creo que Vincent se sentiria mas culpable de lo que deja ver, justamente porque Karin nisiquiera se siente comoda diciendole que fue lo que paso exactamente (probablemente lo explique por dibujos) y trataría de mejorar sus habilidades pedagógicas apartir de esto.

Rody realmente solo esta haciendo todo lo que puede y aun asi no se siente suficiente, aparte de que es probable de que vuelque toda esta culpa y malos sentimientos en Solheim (con una buena paliza).

eso si, no creo que ninguno de los dos deje que Karin/Klaus vayan a la escuela en un BUEEEEN tiempo, buena suerte con eso.

en general, ambos reaccionan de forma diferente, pero haran LO QUE SEA para sacar a Solheim de la foto y darle paz/cierre a los niños.

BONUS: MANON

¡definitivamente seria la que se entero primero!(ya sea estando con Rody o siendo niñera para Vince), tiene tanto la dulzura de Rody como los metodos cuestionables de Vince(hora de hacer que Rody oculte el cuerpo...)

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

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