Tumgik
#Something something there was a lamb that was loved like a daughter and you took it
tomatobird-blog · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
Devotion
53 notes · View notes
call-sign-shark · 1 year
Text
Heaven In Your Eyes || Masterlist
Tumblr media
Pairing: Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC (Heaven Lavey Shelby)
Additional content/Info: CLICK HERE
Fic Summary: He meets her at church one dreary night, guided by her singing. Her name? Heaven Lavey. White ivory hair, fair porcelain skin, and petite shape, this almost ethereal creature is Arthur's strict opposite. Yet, all it took was one dive into her heavenly eyes for him to be convinced God has sent His sweetest angel to save his bastard soul. The two lovebirds, obsessed with each other, are determined to live their love no matter people's judgments and no matter the dangers of a Peaky Blinder's life. They are together through the best and through the worst.
But behind her holy appearance and sweet facade, Heaven Lavey is dangerous. With rumors of witchcraft and murder, her shady past weighs on her shoulders. And if she is a blessing for Arthur Shelby, she will soon prove to be a curse for those who dare to stand in her and her husband's way. Even Thomas Shelby himself.
She is Arthur’s Angel, but don't get fooled by her doe eyes: for the rest of us, she is the White Devil.
And by extend, you are too.
Why? Because Heaven Lavey… It’s you.
TW: Major character death, explicit sexual content, canonical violence, graphic description of violence, blasphemy, witch trials and burning of innocent women, dependent relationship (if Arthur and Heaven are happy in their relationship, they are obsessed and possessive, which leads to bursts of violence and deifying from Arthur. By no means I am claiming their relationship is healthy, but it is what works for them)
Tumblr media
ACT I.
♢ Ch. 1 || Heaven in Your Eyes
♢ Ch. 2 || Never Did, Never Dared
♢ Ch. 3 || Something Wicked This Way Comes 🔞
♢ Ch. 4 || Dead Bird at Witchin Hour
♢ Ch. 5 || The Hell in His Eyes
♢ Ch. 6 || The One They Should Have Burned
♢ Ch. 7 || Of Matches and Gasoline 🔞
♢ Ch. 8 || Tango on Broken Dreams
ACT II.
♢ Ch. 9 || For Whom the Bells Toll
♢ Ch. 10 || Closer to Heaven or Closer to Hell? 🔞
♢ Ch. 11 || When The Bridges Burn
♢ Ch. 12 || As They Always Did
♢ Ch. 13 || Cross My Heart and Hope to Die
♢ Ch. 14 || Pure As a Lamb 🔞
♢ Ch. 15 || Women Like Me in a Men's World
♢ Ch. 16 || Après Moi le Déluge ( c o m i n g . . .)
♢ Ch. 17 || ( Il Diàvulu Biancu)
♢ Ch. 18 ||
ACT III.
♢ Ch. 18 ||
♢ Ch. 19 ||
♢ Ch. 20 ||
♢ Ch. 21 ||
♢ Ch. 22 ||
♢ Ch. 23 ||
♢ Ch. 24 ||
♢ Ch. 25 ||
♢ The series can be longer.
Some events from the show are taken and obviously reworked. Yet, except for a few quotes and scenes, everything else is imagined by the author.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Related works - in chronological order-
♢ From Blood We Will Grow
♢ To Bark and Bite
♢ Kaiser Meeting Cyril (requested)
♢ A Bone to Pick With It (requested)
♢ Perfect Lines
♢ Savage Daughter
♢ A Slice of Us (Modern!HYE)
♢ Love Ritual (@zablife's celebration)
♢ The Woods Whisper 1, 2 (Halloween Horror)
♢Little Lamb 1, 2, 3 (Yandere!AU)
Moodboards and other content
♢ Playlist
♢ Moodboard Aesthetic
♢ Moodboard Chapter 6
♢Heaven In your Eyes Act II trailer
♢ Moodboard Chapter 12
♢ Heaven in your Eyes chapter 16 trailer
Looking for more? Check out Heaven's masterlist I and II.
Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @zablife @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @peakyltd @chaosinkest1996 @vanhelsingsbigtoe @cherubswhispers @he6rtshaker @bemyqueenofdarkness @cljordan-imperium @cjarbo @red-riding-wood @rysko
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
euphemiaamillais · 3 months
Text
cry, kill, die part 3 - coriolanus snow
Tumblr media
after seeing you with sejanus, coriolanus decides that he just has to do something about you… and he will stop at nothing to get what he wants
cw: 18+//piv sex//blowjobs//fingering//alcohol//victim-blaming//sejanus slander (from coryo obviously)//hate fucking
part 3 was inspired by this ask
Tumblr media
you’d had such a lovely night with private plinth at the hob, in spite of the protestations of a certain coriolanus snow. however, when you woke up the next morning to find said man in your living room, talking to your father in a hushed voice, your stomach sank.
‘sweetheart,’ your father nodded at your presence.
you were wearing one of your little pink nightgowns, and could see coriolanus trying to eye you discreetly—he wanted nothing more than to rip it off you.
‘daddy, what’s private snow doing here?’ you bit your lip, anxious to figure out what he was plotting. he was always planning something; just so he could get to you.
your father cast a disappointed look, his brows furrowed in frustration. private snow looked serious too, and their gazes flickered from you, back to one another. your father stood up, walking several paces to where you stood, and grabbed you by the shoulders.
‘darling, private snow has informed me of what happened last night,’ your father began. your brows cocked, watching as a schadenfreude grin crept across coriolanus’ lips.
‘last night?’ your mouth rounded into an o of surprise. had he seen you kissing private plinth. it was all very innocent.
‘why didn’t you tell me? i’d have dealt with it immediately,’ he began to rub your upper arm, eliciting surprise in you. when did he ever show this much affection?
coriolanus shifted a little, eyes dancing with sick delight as you struggled to figure out what happened. your father took your frantic gaze to mean that you were still upset, and so took the liberty of spelling it out to you.
‘private snow informed me of how his comrade…’ your father dropped his voice. ‘took liberties with you.’
you could hear a pin drop in the room. your heart pounded, and you watched as coriolanus tried not to laugh. you knew private plinth would never dare to try anything—in fact last night you had to beg him for a kiss, what with him wanting to be proper and all.
coriolanus must’ve been there and seen how close you two had been all night. you knew his jealousy ran deep, but you didn’t expect for him to stoop so low as to accuse his friend of defiling you.
‘daddy, please, it isn’t true!’ you felt tears pricking at your eyes, but your father only offered a sympathetic frown and sat you down on the couch.
‘you don’t have to defend him, sweetheart. private snow has been very helpful in the matter. i just can’t believe one of our own would do this… and to my daughter of all people!’ his voice boomed throughout the room, and you felt yourself shrink into your seat.
why? why would he do this? poor private plinth, he was so sweet. he’d never in a million years think of touching you, not unless you were married. on the other hand, private snow had been the one to take liberties with you—twice. you wondered what your father would think of him, ploughing you while you begged him to go harder.
‘daddy!’ you cried out. ‘please don’t shoot him…’
you scrambled to make a defence, but realised it was in vain. he’d likely have him hanged, and so you settled on pleading for mercy over truth. what use was truth when private snow had been so convincing?
‘oh pumpkin, i’m not that harsh,’ he laughed a little, stroking your hand. ‘no, i’ve decided he can serve the rest of his peacekeeping days in eight. they need all the men they can get out there, and he’ll be far away from my little lamb.’
coriolanus smirked, and you cast him an angry look. how dare he? you were at least relieved that sejanus wasn’t going to be killed, but eight? you’d never see him again, and you’d hoped that maybe your relationship would progress a little.
but of course, coriolanus had to have you all to himself.
‘you should really be thanking private snow,’ he dropped his voice. ‘i think he has good intentions, sweetheart.’
you looked like a lamb at the slaughter, trembling a little while your brain tried to comprehend the situation. there he was, coriolanus snow, laughing. laughing at your misfortune while your father sent the only man who had shown you some semblance of kindness, away.
‘private snow, i’d like to see you back here at 1800 hours,’ your father commanded. snow rose, and saluted your father, stiff as a board.
you furrow your brow. ‘what for, daddy?’
‘well, i thought you could let private snow take you to dinner, as a thank you.’
you had been dreading that evening all day, praying that you’d catch a cold and even going as far as to stand too long in the sun. but it was summer, so of course a cold was out of the question. it seemed that you had to go.
it wasn’t that you completely despised snow. you couldn’t. your mind circled back to how good he’d made you feel with his tongue, his cock. you hated how your core burned at the thought of doing it all again. you’d really only kissed sejanus to make him jealous.
only you hadn’t expected him to go this far. you thought it would just be a little game, like last time, where he’d chase you into your house while your father was out, and show you who you really belonged to. it was cruel of him to spread such falsities about private plinth. he was sweet to you, a kind soul if there ever were any among the peacekeepers. it broke your heart to think of him, alone now in eight. there’d be no getting out now. 20 years of hard service in the second-poorest district. your heart throbbed.
coriolanus arrived at your house at 6 o’clock sharp, which pleased your father. he was always one for punctuality. coriolanus had even made an effort to look nice, wearing his cleanest set of commissioned day-clothes and a pair of well-polished shoes. of course he was trying to impress your father, appear as if he was the innocent one in this situation and not poor sejanus.
if only your father knew what coriolanus had done to you—and in his own home. he’d have him hanged.
‘good evening, commander,’ coriolanus greeted him with a salute, and your father gave a curt nod.
you were sitting on the couch, dreading the evening, but you attempted to look nice, wearing another sundress, this one covered in tiny blue flowers. coriolanus drew a breath when he saw you, and the way the dress hugged your curves in such a way that he couldn’t help but think about how well he knew what lay underneath.
‘darling,’ your father called to you, snapping you out of your idle reverie.
you put on your best smile though, not wanting to displease your father, and greeted private snow with an innocent smile. your father hadn’t mentioned what happened between you and private plinth, but you could see how cautiously he was eyeing you, watching for if you so much as gave the eye to coriolanus, or blushed too much. he would have to keep a tighter leash on you now that you’d been spoiled by one of his own men.
‘private snow,’ you said dully, watching as his brow quirked up, and a small frown crept at the corner of his lips.
‘miss hoff,’ he remarked curtly. ‘what time do you want her home, commander?’
you hoped your father would save you from having to spend the entire evening with coriolanus, but he smiled—a rarity even towards his own daughter—at coriolanus and answered him in a suspiciously jovial tone.
‘i trust you to keep a rein on my daughter, private snow,’ he watched you like you were the suspect in some act of treason—after all, private snow had acted with such decorum; it was his own daughter that he decided to flirt too much and end up with one of his own men between her legs.
‘have her home by midnight, at the latest,’ your brows quirked up; he’d never let you stay out that late, not even when he’d approved of sejanus. you were always to be home by 9:30 sharp. any later and you’d be on dawn wake up for days on end. it was particularly hell in the summer.
you attempted to hide your scowl, but coriolanus could see it clear on your face. he pursed his lips, and the two of you bid your father goodbye before you could raise any suspicion of your disdain. after all, you’d rather face the wrath of coriolanus, than your father. even if neither were ideal, at least you could get him sent away if he proved too bothersome.
you walked in silence until you were past the gate of the barracks, dragging your feet in the hopes that they’d give out before you could make your way to the hob.
‘you’re very quiet today, bunny,’ coriolanus remarked, lacing one hand around your waist as you attempted to walk ahead of him.
‘i’m not exactly in the best mood,’ you scowled, glaring at him.
‘aren’t you excited to go dancing?’ he quipped wryly. he could see the distaste stretch across your face.
‘you know why i’m upset, coriolanus,’ you retorted, trying to foist off his hands from your waist.
it only made him grip harder, and your mind was cast back to the way he had grabbed your hips as he bucked into you. damn him for being such a good lay—you had to admit it, you’d been thinking about him at night for the past week, fantasising about him climbing through your window and fucking you as you tried to keep quiet so your father couldn’t hear. the thought sent a thrill through your body.
‘hm,’ he mused, voice trailing off as he kept his gaze away from you. he felt, guilty perhaps. not that he’d admit it, but you could see it from the way he refused to look at you, appearing far too interested in the dirt on the walking track.
‘why did you do it?’ you asked, waiting for his response.
he was silent for a moment, as if he was musing upon his thoughts, and you wondered if he might refuse to answer. you tried to keep your frustration at bay, and began to curl a lock of hair around your finger to distract yourself. he met your gaze again, but stopped you both in your tracks, unlacing his hand from your waist.
‘i had to have you all for myself, bunny,’ he hummed, stroking your chin. ‘couldn’t let sejanus touch you like that.’
you shook your head. ‘it was a kiss, coriolanus.’
you two had begun to walk again; nearing your way to the town centre—you were nearly at the hob.
‘mhm, but your daddy doesn’t know that. thinks private plinth got you drunk and took you into an alleyway. told him i heard you screaming and begging for him to stop—that it hurt. he’s furious that his daughter’s a little whore now.’
your heart dropped—what would your father think now, that you were some kind of slut who gave it away after a few drinks? you’d thought that coriolanus had been more polite with his words, but it seemed he had veered to vulgarity to underscore how dire the situation had been. not that anything had actually occurred. he had a knack for fabrication, you figured. perhaps he got off on the thought of sejanus’ misfortune.
‘and i wonder who’s fault that is,’ you snapped, eyes burning with fury.
‘you’re lucky i didn’t tell your daddy that you enjoyed it. imagine what he’d have done if i said you were begging private plinth to go harder, and that you were telling him how well he filled you up?’ coriolanus laughed, lips quirking into a wry smile.
‘you’re cruel.’ you spat, feet moving to storm off, but he caught your wrist.
‘maybe so, bunny. but i needed to remind you who you belong to.’ he remarked, pulling you flush against him.
‘i don’t belong to anyone!’ you yelled, stepping on his toe. you watched as his eyes darkened, but you knew he hadn’t felt anything in his combat boots.
‘oh bunny, you’re so dumb. you’re all mine. you belong to me, no one else. can’t let your daddy know you were begging for my cock, hm?’
‘you wouldn’t!’ you gasped, shoving his arm.
‘what should i tell him, hm? that you were on your knees, pleading with me to fuck you because you’re a little slut?’ coriolanus’ breath was hot in your ear now, fanning against your ear. you felt something tighten in your chest, and your legs buckle a little.
your body sought to betray you. even when you despised him, wanted him dead, your body still warmed to the thought of his touch, the very thought of his cock pounding inside of you.
‘please coryo, no,’ you shook your head, eyes welling up a little.
‘calling me coryo now?’ he chuckled. ‘i don’t think you despise me as much as you think, bunny.’
you crossed your arms, but realised you couldn’t walk away from him now and make a scene in front of all these people. you could hear the hum of music coming from the hob, and the sound of feet stomping to one of the covey’s tunes.
you supposed if you had to tolerate him, you’d drown yourself in cheap moonshine and pray that you had sobered up by the time you got home.
he kept a close rein on you, and when he saw you standing to close to anyone else, he immediately drew you back to him, clamp on your wrists, or waist, tightening.
you stumbled a little, body weakened by your slight inebriation, and he took note of this. while you were making a fool of yourself, it would be far easier to get you on your knees when you weren’t scowling at him.
‘private snow,’ you drawled. ‘come to take me away now, have you?’
he shook his head, looking at you with a scrutinising eye.
‘i have a mind to, if you don’t start behaving. you’re acting like a fool,’ he snapped, dragging you away from the crowd.
the music dulled, and you felt your heart pounding in your ears. your head swam, and your thighs felt sticky as you became more aware of the touch of him; his cool hands pressing against your pulse point.
‘oh, so you want to punish me?’ you teased.
clearly you’d lost control of your own ability to seethe at him, instead teasing him.
‘you’re practically begging for it, bunny,’ he mused, breath fanning your cheek.
he pulled you further away from the crowd, down the damp hall, and you wondered if he’d really dare to fuck you up against the wall? you’d be caught by anyone of the peacekeepers, who’d report you to your father. especially if they saw it was a fellow private who’d gotten his hands on you.
‘private snow, we really shouldn’t,’ you huffed, trailing behind him like a little puppy as he slid open the door to some back room.
you’d not seen it before, but it was far away enough that you’d not be spotted. it appeared to be a store room of sorts, but your thighs burned with such want that you didn’t even bother to wish for a couch or somewhere pleasant to let him touch you.
you’d not intended on it, not wanting him to have the satisfaction of fucking you again, but the drink had gotten to you. even if you despised him for what he did to sejanus, you couldn’t help but think about how good it felt, being stretched out with his big cock.
‘you want it,’ he sighed, thumbing the soft expanse of your cheek.
you shook your head, but the truth was in the way your skin danced with want, and how your breath hitched as he pressed you up against the wall.
‘poor bunny,’ he clucked his tongue. ‘what am i going to do with you?’
he leaned in to kiss you, and you submitted, hands lacing around his neck. his tongue was quick to make its way between your lips; he was hungry in his ministrations, and you couldn’t help but moan as he pressed a hand flush against your clothed cunt.
‘please…’ you sighed, tongue sliding over his, hips grinding into his touch. he was teasing you, hand ghosting over the fabric of your sundress. he didn’t even have the decency to touch you through your panties.
‘please what, bunny?’ he mused, smirking at the way you had once again become putty in his hands.
‘need you,’ you admitted, face burning with shame. in spite of all he’d done, your body still ached for him, to feel his cock stretching you out.
‘what a little whore,’ he cajoled. ‘you just can’t keep away from me, hm?’
his breath fanned your ear, and you found yourself reaching desperately for his hands, bringing them up against your bare thighs. he was cool to the touch, fingers skimming up the apex of your thighs, groping at the soft skin. you let out a whimper, core throbbing with need.
no matter how much you denied it, you needed him.
‘don’t tease me,’ you whined as he slipped a finger past your panties, feeling the slickness of your cunt around him.
‘fucking hell,’ he guffawed. ‘so wet and i haven’t done a thing.’
you gazed at him with wide-eyes, knowing you couldn’t put up a fight anymore. you were aching for him, soaking around his finger as he pumped it into you. you mewled, and begged him to add another, which he did, feeling you stretch around him.
‘please… need your cock, coryo,’ you pouted, the use of the familiar appellation causing his blood to burn.
it was like music to his ears; sweet and golden as were the whimpers you made as he fucked you with his fingers. he pressed a thumb against your clit, causing you to cry out—you looked like a pathetic mess, writhing up against the wall.
‘look at you, begging for it like a little slut,’ he sneered, rubbing his fingers against your clit, sending your head into a whirl.
coriolanus removed his touch from you, causing you to groan with dissatisfaction. you attempted to pull him back against you, but he gave your wrist a tight squeeze, his bicep muscles tensing beneath his overshirt—a reminder just how much stronger he was than you.
‘if you’re going to act like such a whore, you’ll have to do as i say,’ he commander, putting two hands on your shoulders and pushing you to the ground.
your legs buckled a little, but you found your place on your knees, seeing clearly with your eyes what he wanted you to do. his cock strained against his pants, and your mouth watered at the thought of taking it in your mouth again—all eight inches of it—until he came down your throat.
coriolanus grabbed your chin, forcing your mouth open, and you parted your lips willingly. he bent down, eyes meeting yours, and without a word, spat into your mouth.
‘swallow,’ he demanded, and so you obliged, swallowing his spit down your throat and offering him your open mouth again.
he undid his pants, pulling them down along with his boxers, and presenting his hardened cock to you. you pressed your thighs together at the sight of him; he was red and aching, the tip threatening to spill with precum.
‘now bunny,’ he stroked your chin. ‘you gonna be a good girl and suck my dick?’
you nodded, veering your head forward and pressing a hungry, open-mouthed kiss to the tip of his cock. he watched, mouth twitching into a grin at the image of you on your knees, desperate for his cock. you looked so perfect like this, eyes brimming with want, pretty lips curved as you pushed the head of his cock past your lips.
coriolanus let out a groan as your flattened tongue glided across his shaft. he grabbed your hair in his hand, tugging on it so hard you could feel your skin tingling. he began to buck his hips, desperate for satisfaction—if you were going to behave like such a slut, he might as well treat you like one.
his cock pressed right against the back of your throat, and you gagged, struggling to take him all in. he throbbed in your mouth as your saliva trickled down him, his eyes flickering over his girl. you looked so perfect, taking him all even though tears were pricking at the corner of your eyes.
‘fuck,’ he cried out, thrusting his cock against your lips.
you gripped at his hips, bobbing your head up and down as best you could, fat salty tears trickling down your cheeks. his balls slapped against your chin with each rut, and the fire between your legs grew even more. you needed him, more than anything in the world. in fact, you felt that if you didn’t have him right then, you’d die.
‘taking me so well, aren’t you,’ he cooed, feeling himself edging closer to his release. he didn’t want to let go, however, wanting to finish as he fucked you.
he pulled himself out, cock dribbling with precum, and watched as you whined, wanting to feel him cum down your throat. your lips ached a little from the stretch, but when he hoisted you up on your feet again you could hardly complain. he was about to give you exactly what you wanted.
‘gonna cum inside your pussy, hm?’ he teased, hands rucking your panties down to your knees, and then hoisting your dress up.
your cunt was dripping wet when he’d gotten your dress around your waist, and as he pressed you into the wall, he dragged his tip teasingly along your wet hole. he wanted nothing more than to shove himself in, but what fun would it be if he didn’t watch you squirm and beg for it?
‘please coryo,’ you whined, fingers clutching at the base of his cock, attempting to push it inside of you. ‘i need you, please…’
he laughed, and slapped your pussy with the aching tip of his cock, causing you to let out an exasperated gasp.
‘that’s what you get for being a fuckin’ slut,’ he scolded, finally shoving himself into you.
you gasped as he pressed his entire eight inches inside of your wet cunt, giving you no time to adjust to him. you clutched at his back, knees buckling a little from the feeling, head swimming with desire. it felt so good, but your body was humming from the shock of it all.
‘and sluts,’ he mused, grunting as he began to thrust into you. he was already halfway there, balls throbbing and aching to be emptied. ‘don’t get to cum. especially not when they’ve been whoring themselves to other peacekeepers.’
you sighed, dizzy with want, but his words still cut at you nonetheless. your heart stung a little.
‘coryo…’ your voice went soft. ‘i promise, sejanus never did anything.’
he grunted, the mention of sejanus’ name earning a hard thrust, and you whimpered as his cock stretched out your tight walls.
‘really, huh? you sure you didn’t get on your knees for him like you did with me? suck his cock til you were gagging?’ he taunted, and you shook your head, cheeks burning.
were those tears in your eyes that he saw? how pathetic. tears from a whore, at that. he couldn’t believe your gall, it was obviously for show. the translucent droplets trickled down your cheeks, and you felt your heart stab with the pangs of frustration and disappointment.
coupled with the feeling of his cock pistoning in and out of your wet cunt, it was throwing you through a loop. it was all too much, and you couldn’t help but begin to full on sob—why did it feel so good; the way his golden tone taunted you, the way the sound of his sighs echo melodically in your ears if he was being so cruel?
‘coryo,’ you wept, feeling your cunt clench around his cock.
you were just so perfect—sobbing and yet your body was yielding itself to him. he wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of coming though. he found his own pleasure begin to give way as you cried, your pretty eyes wet, lips plump from the salt mingled with the way he’d used your mouth.
‘can hardly speak, can you? fucking you so good that you’re too dumb to even remember your name,’ he groaned as he looked down at his cock, seeing the way your hole gripped him even as he slid in and out.
‘please let me cum,’ you whined, fingers tracing the nape of his neck.
he shook his head, silencing you with his lips. he was too close now to let your helpless pleas distract him. he focused all his willpower on coming, rutting into your tight hole, your muffled whimpers straining against his mouth.
you let him kiss you, surrendering yourself with a hopeless passion, whining as you took him further inside of you. your clit ached dully as you yearned for your own finish, to spill around him, but he sought to spite you; punish you for something you had not done.
coriolanus finished with a heavy grunt, the sound of his cock slamming in and out of your wet cunt echoing in the back room. you felt spurts of his sticky, hot cum coat your walls, and trembled as he continued to thrust. his body was humming with overstimulation, but the way your tight cunt clenched at his cock made him more determined to continue fucking his load into you.
‘you’re all mine now, huh?’ he murmured against your lips. ‘who’s going to have you now that i’ve fucked you full of my cum—certainly not fucking sejanus. no, he’ll never touch you again, i’ve made sure of that. you belong to me.’
you moaned as his lips trailed from your lips down the smooth expanse of your neck. he began to suck at the skin, marking bruises into you as your heavy breaths sounded in his ears. your forehead beaded with sweat, hairline sticky with the stuff due to your exertion.
you winced as he sucked a little too hard, and when he pulled away he looked proudly at the round, dark bruise he’d left right against your clavicle. there was no hiding that. even your father would see. the purple, shameful thing.
coriolanus slid out of you, sticky cum dripping down your thighs now, and brushed your hair away from your neck, admiring the mark he’d left on your neck. his branding.
‘nobody’s ever going to touch you again—nobody but me, huh?’ he scowled. ‘you, bunny, are going to be mine forever.’
323 notes · View notes
bunnyreaper · 4 months
Note
Demon Gaz, who's looking for a pretty little plaything to corrupt. Maybe a priests daughter, or someone who (somehow) has never sinned before.
<3
hopefully you enjoy this crime against christianity <3 cw dubcon, religion.
looking like such an angel, kyle finds his job incredibly easy. his beautiful brown eyes look like they're incapable of hiding a single sinful thought, never mind an entirely devilish being.
his smile is so bright the local god-fearing women think it could ward off any ill fate that could befall the town--if only they knew the reason for their downfall was their darling local charmer. 
you and kyle had been friends for a while now, he was new in town and took a shine to you immediately when you sat next to him in church one day.
from that moment on, he knew that he would make you his. 
it was easy to get you alone, under the guise of bible study, of reinforcing your father's teachings. the sessions started with quiet, companionable reading. kyle would keep you company, answer simple questions you had, and ask you about your life. 
no boys, no parties, no sin. 
he couldn't ask for a prettier, more innocent little thing to corrupt. 
your descent started slowly, in a way he couldn't have even planned. he didn't have to seek you out, as you followed him around like a lost lamb, unknowingly leading itself to slaughter. you tried to spend as much time with him as possible, obsessed with the way he looked at you like no one had before. 
you could sense his desire, even if you thought it to be something simple and innocent--the kind of love and admiration your parents' marriage was built from, the kind of devotion you had for your god. 
you had no idea of the lust that lay within--the corrupting, all-consuming need. kyle garrick was a selfish man, used to turning girls like you on their heads and feeding off their sins before moving on to the next. 
something about you was different. 
perhaps it was because he'd never met one so pure and untainted, or maybe it was because, unlike the others, you had no sense of self-preservation. it could be that you always had this look in your eyes like you wouldn't really mind if kyle led you astray, you'd follow him anyway. that was something he quickly became addicted to.
the poking and questioning followed soon after, kyle subtly guiding you to question the gospel, your father, and everything you've ever known, all for him. he pretended to struggle with his faith too, though he supposed it wasn't a lie, as once upon a time he had. 
you were quick to follow, enamored by your guardian angel in every way, believing he could never steer you wrong. 
after all, questioning is normal, natural, why we were given free will--that's what kyle always says. and with the sweet way he says it, so earnest and everything... there's no way the two of you are doing anything wrong.
so when he pulls you into his lap one day, bible in hand, you don't question it. when he asks your interpretation on a particular verse, and leads you to a certain conclusion, you don't question it. 
when he takes you on a walk through the churchyard flowers and kisses you under the flower-filled pergola, lips against yours like he's devouring you, you don't question it. 
from there, the rest is easy. coaxing you into sneaking out late at night, straight into his arms, getting you to give up your vow of chastity, your commitments to the church, your devotion to god.
instead, you worship him. his name falling from your lips like a prayer as he drives inside you, taking you for him forever. spoiling you for other men, breaking all your oaths. 
he stretches you out, shapes you to him, claims you with his cock, his cum, his fingers, the way his nails scraping down your body carves his name into your soul.
you cry out for him when your pretty mouth is on the end of his cock, you cry out for him when he's gone--tears beading in your eyes either way. 
and when they try to take you away from kyle, to make you 'see the light', 
all the lessons you've been taught about vengeance and grace fall away, and you search for a new beginning--disavowing your church, your family, your upbringing. 
and with your fall complete, when it's time for kyle to skip town? there's no way in hell he could leave you behind.
235 notes · View notes
samoankpoper21 · 2 months
Text
JJK Men As You're Giving Birth
Tumblr media
Gojo Satoru: This dude is the definition of a little shit I'm not even joking 🙄 he's taking pictures of you looking a hot mess for "memories" 🙄🖕🏽 "Okay hunn' ima need you to give me one big push." the doctor instructed. You took one big breath attempting to push when your concentration broke from your annoying husband's voice. "Pft! Hehehe. Babe, you should see your face." "Satoru," you seethed through gritted teeth. "Did you just take a picture of my face?" "Hehe. I'm going to put it as my lock screen." You squeezed his hand attempting to hurt him but you already knew it wouldn't have an affect on this man, after all he's the 'strongest'. "I swear to God Satoru this is all your fault!" you shrilled. "Eh? But you like it." "Just shut up!" you began squeezing his hand harder as the contractions picked up. "That's it hunn'," encouraged your doctor. "Keep breathing like that." You looked up to see your husband smirking and, blame it on the pregnancy, but you saw red. "Toru, keep smirking and I won't ever let you cum in me again." "Whoa now, don't say something so rash." " Toru!" "Oh look a head."
Tumblr media
Kento Nanami: I swear this man is literally a god send 🥹 he will let you talk your shit because he knows and understands that it's not easy to carry another human, especially considering the constant pressure on your bladder, pain in your back, boobs, and legs. You squeezing his hand roughly was nothing in comparison to the pain you were feeling down below. Nanami leaned forward kissing your sweaty temple. "You're strong love, I know you can do this." "Nanami," you choked out. "It hurts." "I know love but you just have to give us one more push and he'll be out of there. Can you do it for me love? Hm?" You weakly nodded your head inhaling a large amount of air. You began to grunt and push, squeezing his hand again. What felt like an eternity of pushing finally ended when you heard your son's cry pierce the tense atmosphere. You instantly cried as you saw tufts of blonde hair, the umbilical chord still attached. Nanami leaned down planting another kiss to your temple. "You did so good love. I'm so proud of you."
Tumblr media
Geto Suguru: Much like Nanami he would be a god send HOWEVER he's an empath so your feelings of pain/negativity may rub off on him 😅 It has been more than 5 hours since you were in labor and your daughter still did not want to come out. The doctor recommended that you lean forward on your bed while standing making the dilation process speed up. "Suguru," you exhaled. "Yes love?" "I can not with her." "What are you talking about?" "She ain't even here and she's already working my nerves." "Babe, don't say that." "I just...why isn't she coming out yet?!" "Baby, look at me." You looked up with tears in your eyes. He can't fault you for your frustrations, he's partially to blame too. Walking towards you he embraced you swaying side to side. "She'll come when she's ready and when she decides to I'll be right here."
Tumblr media
Choso: This poor sweet lamb 😅 he's such a nervous wreck he low key doesn't know what to do with himself "Alright hunn' keep pushing, keep pushing!" instructed your doctor. You were squeezing the life out of Choso's hand but he didn't mind, as a mater of fact he was stuck. He saw a head come out and slowly after arms. "That's it! Keep pushing, keep pushing!" You took a huge breath and screamed, not fully registering that Choso was screaming along with you. The doctor didn't seem to mind, this was nothing new to her. She's seen all types of new expectant fathers so for one to be screaming with his wife wasn't an unusual sight. You paused, panting, glancing at your husband. He was panting too when your brain finally registered the low baritone screaming along with you belonged to him. "Pft. Baby was that you screaming along with me?" "Yes," he shyly replied. "Can you give me 2 more pushes hunn'? your doctor asked. You nodded your head, locked eyes with your husband; and as you began to push you both screamed at the top of your lungs.
Tumblr media
Toji Fushiguro: Much like Satoru he's a little shit. Not only will he allow you to talk your shit but he'll talk shit back to you 🙄🖕🏽 "Give me one big push." the doctor gently instructed. You took a deep breath, held it, and pushed. Your were gripping Toji's hand for dear life and the motherfucker had the audacity to look bored. "What's with your face?!" "What the hell are you talkin' bout?" "I'm sorry that this isn't entertaining to you." you spat out. "You're making something out of nothing. Stop it." "Or what?" Toji leaned down expertly planting a kiss on your head while whispering, "You don't want to know the answer to that." You scoffed and rolled your eyes, the pressure from Toji's hand tightening around yours. Surprising him, you pulled him towards you by the nape of his sweater, wanting to laugh at how his eyes nearly bugged out of his head if it weren't for the pain. "Baby," you purred. "We're not fucking for a while." He smirked as a new wave of contractions coursed through you causing you to give a tiny push. "We'll see about that."
Tumblr media
Ryomen Sukuna: He's trying to be the best supportive husband he can but much like Toji he's talking his shit: to you, the doctor, the staff 🙄 *le sigh* "You almost got it babes I just need one more really big push and he will be out of your way. Can you do that for me babes?" you nodded to your doctor. Sukuna stood there looking pissed. "How long does it take for a baby to come out?" "Kuna! Really?" "I'm just saying all you have to do is push." "All I have to do is push?" you incredulously asked. "All I have to do is push??!! Fuck you dawg! You wanna try pushing a big ass head out of a small hole?! No? Didn't think so! So shut the fuck up. I swear to gawd Kuna-" a wave of pain shot through you as you squeezed Sukuna's hand again. His eyebrow shot up as he slyly said, "I like that look on you, being in pain." Through gritted teeth you say, "Remind me to never let you cum inside of me again."
104 notes · View notes
duskyashe · 1 year
Text
NaNoWriMo Day #2
[masterlist] [part two] [part three] [part four]
Prompt found here
=============‹«⟨·•★•·⟩»›=============
The thing about being the half-ghost protector of a small Midwestern city whose rogues gallery consists of both the inhabitants of a parallel dimension intrinsically linked to the "living" one as well as goons from the government, is that you tend to get a bit lonely. There's never any representation for him or others like him among the well known heroes of the world, he's really got no one to model how he should fight his city's crime. Sure, Superman has a lot of powers that are similar to his own, but he's a beloved alien not a hated eldritch entity. And sure, Danny loves knowing there's other sentient life out there, but when the government is one of his rogues, it's kinda hard to look up to government approved heroes.
Though Captain Marvel was pretty cool, not gonna lie.
But his point was, as far as Danny knew, he was the only eldritch being/cryptid to have taken up heroics, ever, and that… that hurts sometimes, that he was the only one out of a rather large cast of possible "other" beings in the world to decide that protecting others was worth more than his own potential safety. He was both the frontrunner and the sacrificial lamb. If he succeeded in changing the narrative, in convincing humanity that supernatural beings and entities couldn't be defined by a few really well known bad nuts, then others would publicly fly his banner, but if he didn't, if he failed, then, well, no ectoplasmic skin off their metaphorical noses, y'know? It was isolating.
Danny honestly expected the rest of his existence would be defined by that loneliness, by being the only hero to be of a supernatural flavor others were actively terrified of. Until, that is, Sam and Tucker nearly broke his bedroom door down one Sunday morning, breathless and beaming, which was so out of character for Sam that Danny was kinda expecting his ghost sense to go off signaling she was being overshadowed. But no, she wasn't. She was genuinely excited about something, enough to act like the daughter her parents wished she was, not the down-to-earth goth beauty they actually had.
"Woah, guys, what's up?" Danny asked, sitting up from his sprawled out position on his bed. Tuck shut and locked his door while Sam pulled her phone out and showed it to him. He stared at the screen in shock for a few minutes as his friends got their breathing under control. "Is… is that… is that what I think it is?"
Sam nodded, grinning like a loon. "Tuck double checked everything. There's multiple cases with enough correlation between them, buried deep enough in the web, that for it all to be one big hoax or just a huge coincidence would be functionally impossible. This is real, Danny. You're not alone anymore." On her phone was a website, which looked like a newspaper of some sort, with a headline reading, "The Cryptid Known as Batman Strikes Again! Twoface Back in Arkham!" It was posted just last week. Danny took Sam's phone and looked through the open tabs. There were articles and blog posts and Reddit pages and YouTube channels dedicated to what seemed to be a whole clan of cryptids who made Gotham City their home. All of them praised the elusive clan. Thanked them for protecting them. For saving them.
Danny started tearing up. He couldn't help it. Here was proof that what he was doing wasn't all for nothing. It was possible to be a hero loved by those he protected while being a member of the supernatural, part-time though his membership may be.
It was at that point that fourteen year old Danny "Phantom" Fenton decided the entity called "Batman" was his hero, his idol, the being he looked up to most of all. His method of fighting crime was a tad too violent for Danny, but his style was perfect. He couldn't change who or what he was, not without some serious side effects, but if "Batman" and their clan could turn the public's favor to their side despite being so obviously not human, something even literal aliens didn't attempt to do, then screw it, Danny was going to do the same thing. He would embrace his ghostliness as Phantom, instead of trying to pretend he was still human in that form. Maybe that was his problem, anyway? Could others tell he was pretending to still be human as Phantom? It didn't really matter at the moment, but it would be interesting to test that going forward…
=============‹«⟨·•★•·⟩»›=============
In the end, a year and a half is all it took for everything to completely fall apart. Danny would say he was surprised, but honestly, he'd seen this coming as far back as that incident with Pariah Dark, which ended with him ascending the ghostly throne. The way Amity Park reacted to that whole ordeal was rather telling. Although a number of the younger crowd had started shifting their views of Phantom, too many of the adults still saw him as a threat and vilified him, even after he saved all of reality.
Living in Amity Park had quickly become too dangerous for him and his team—Sam, Tucker, and Jazz—, but while Jazz was fairly easily able to get custody of Danny and get the two of them away from the boiling cauldron of tension, Sam and Tucker didn't have that option. His core protested leaving members of his fright behind in such a hazardous situation, but with no idea how things would go down where Jazz and Danny were running to, they had to leave them for the time being. If everything went to plan, then Jazz would call the rest of their fright to them.
Thankfully, with him being the ghost king now, his ghostly rogues had cut back on their attacks on his haunt during the past year, instead scheduling time with Jazz to teach him more about ghost culture, as well as other supernatural beings and their cultures. Due to these lessons, Danny, Sam, and Tucker would often debate what kind of beings Batman's clan had and how many beings the clan contained instead of finishing their homework.
Batman was obviously an entity loosely tied to shadows that had ascended to minor divinity over the past few years, while Robin had to be some sort of fey being, considering their eternally youthful appearance. This theory was backed by Robin's ability to mimic the voices of seemingly anyone. Raven, the next oldest member of Batman's clan, had to be eldritch in origin, though it was interesting that they claimed a name so closely related to death and prophecy. Danny and his friends couldn't quite agree on what kind of eldritch being Raven was, just that they were one.
Condor was an interesting being to debate, as the name also had strong ties with death, as well as rebirth. Sam thought that meant Condor was a Phoenix that wanted to stay on theme with the rest of the clan, while Tuck thought Condor was some kind of zombie. Jazz was actually the one to propose Condor may have been a lich, which honestly kind of made sense. Condor was known to have looser morals than the others in the clan, which fit with the general idea of how liches come into being, especially if those they killed came back as undead servants like some rumors claimed.
Around the same time Condor showed up, whisperings of a being named Oracle started showing up within the forums Tuck had hacked. While there was no confirmed record of appearance for her, there were multiple accounts of the other members of the bat clan sending words of thanks to her, so she might have been the actual spirit of the Oracle of Delphi, which would be so cool.
Ibis was definitely some sort of trickster spirit, possibly even a kitsune. With their tendency to dance around an opponent until victory was assured and their tenuous grasp on the humanoid form, they couldn't really be anything else. Black Bat had to be another entity loosely tied to shadows, though they seemed more eldritch than Batman was. Starling could literally only be a banshee, what with her death shrieks every time she attacked. Weirdly enough, Signal seemed to already have a supernatural theory attached to them, said theory being that they were the bat signal given sentience and humanoid form, though Danny thought they might be more of a vengeful spirit.
There were likely others, those not as well known or even ever seen. There always were. For Danny's fright, that was Ellie, who was constantly on the move, especially now that she'd mastered teleportation and portal making. While most of his former ghostly rogues knew of Ellie, the only humans that knew of her were members of his fright and Valerie.
At the time, spitballing ideas about the members of the bat clan in Gotham was just all fun and games, a way to practice the knowledge they were learning in a more practical and entertaining way than just bookwork. Now, though, Danny couldn't be more grateful they had spent so much time on those debates, countless nights they stayed up late trawling through the deep web to stay up to date on the latest on Gotham's guardian deity and his clan. Because they had such solid guesses on what beings made up the bat clan, they'd be able to appeal for sanctuary in a more appropriate manner than if they had no clue at all.
As his and Jazz's bus drew closer to Gotham on the horizon, Danny anxiously checked that the duffle with their offerings was still secured. He hoped the bats liked their gifts; they had barely any concrete info on any of the more public members, let alone the lesser known ones. He wasn't sure what they'd do if Batman refused their appeal; with the schematics to rebuild the Fenton portal within easy access of the GIW, they couldn't risk hiding out in the Infinite Realms for fear of drawing Danny's subjects into a fruitless war.
Please, he prayed to Gotham's guardian deity, please don't turn us away. You're our last hope.
=============‹«⟨·•★•·⟩»›=============
As Bruce was getting ready for patrol that night, he felt the creeping rise of anticipation. Something was going to happen tonight, something extraordinary. He just wasn't sure if it was going to be a good thing or not. Like usual.
For the past year and a half, Bruce had noticed an odd trend. Whenever something big was going to happen, something that would affect the entirety of his city, he'd feel antsy all day, right up until whatever was going to happen happened. It certainly helped cut down on the number of times they'd been caught with their metaphorical pants around their knees, but not being able to tell if the nebulous something was going to be good or not was annoying. Though, to be fair, there weren't a lot of good things that had happened since he started noticing his new sense.
"Listen up," he sighed as he stalked over to the conference table in the cave. "Something's going to happen tonight, something big. As usual, that's all the information I have, so you know the drill; if you see anything unusual, call it in." Bruce looked over his brood of children, most of them adults in their own right by now. Goodness, the years have flown by fast. "Try to stick relatively close to each other tonight, please. I want to be able to watch each other's backs in case whatever it is manages to get the drop on us."
Dick nodded with a grin. "You got it, B," he said, slinging an arm over Damian's shoulder. "C'mon, baby bird, let's run through our stretches one last time before heading out, yeah?"
"Tt, it is Todd who needs those stretches most, was he not the one to strain his knee last week?"
"You listen here, you little—"
"He's not wrong, Jay. You sure you don't want my stretch routine? It'd do you wonders, y'know."
"You mean your torture routine, Replacement? How you can get your body into some of those shapes and still call it stretching, I'll never know—"
Bruce shook his head, a small smile playing at his lips. He wasn't quite sure when that change had happened, but he'd be forever grateful it had. It pained him when his sons fought each other.
A small hand came to rest on his shoulder, drawing him out of his thoughts. He glanced down at his daughter and smiled at her look of concern. "I'm alright," he reassured her, "just thinking."
Cass looked at him thoughtfully before nodding. "It will be alright. Tonight will be good. We will stay safe. You stay safe, too?"
Bruce was nodding before she finished speaking. "Of course. We should head out, any longer and Stephanie will try banshee striking the first shady person she sees," he said, an amused glint in his eye as Steph cried out in indignation from over by the batmobile.
An hour into patrol, and Bruce's anticipation skyrocketed. Whatever was happening tonight was happening soon. "Everyone, check-in."
"Raven here, checking in, all clear here." Dick.
"This is Condor, everything's normal on my end." Jason.
"Robin, checking in, nothing is out of place." Damian.
"Starling here! Just some run-of-the-mill muggers, currently crying for daddy!" Steph.
"Black Bat. Clear." Cass.
Where's—? "Ibis here. B, I think I found the source of your feeling. Sending Oracle my coordinates now." Tim.
"Understood. En route now. Do not engage without backup, understood?" Bruce demanded, taking off toward the beacon indicating Tim's location.
"I'll try, B, but I get the impression they know I'm here."
The anticipation rose again. Whoever Tim was watching definitely knew he was there. "We'll hurry."
=============‹«⟨·•★•·⟩»›=============
Tim clung to the gargoyle overlooking one of the many rooftop shrines to the Bats and the Birds. There, sitting cross-legged about a foot in the air next to the shrine, was a glowing teenaged boy with snow bright hair and Lazarus Pit green eyes. He was wearing a black and silver armored suit, similar to the suits he and his siblings wore, with a flowing cape that blended into the night hung from his shoulders and a greenish black crown floating just above his head. In his lap was a black, gray, and green duffle bag that looked to be rather full, and in his hand was a beat up looking photograph. He couldn't make out what it was a photo of from this angle, but he'd recognize a well-loved photograph anywhere.
"In position, IIbis, you may initiate contact." Bruce said over comms. Tim didn't bother acknowledging he heard and instead carefully unwound himself from his hiding place in the shadows. Carefully, he danced down the side of the building he was on, contorting himself into inhuman looking positions as he went, until he could silently drop onto the roof with the shrine. He slowly slunk forward, keeping low and accentuating his curiosity. That was the key, here, he really was curious about this kid. That was what sold IIbis as something other, something not human.
Tim was about five feet from the shrine when wide, glowing green eyes suddenly found his own, covered though they might be. Tim froze, holding the slightly exaggerated pose he'd found himself in, crouched and arched in a way that screamed wary curiosity. Cautiously, he rolled his head to the side and chirped slightly.
"You really do exist," the kid breathed in awe before he shook himself and straightened, grabbing the duffle from his lap before letting his feet meet the rooftop. "Hi, um, I was wondering if I could possibly meet with your clan leader, Batman?"
Tim stared at the kid for a long moment as Bruce silently made his way to the shadows of the shrine. At Bruce's signal, a soft tap on the comm, Tim shifted and rolled and contorted until he was standing in a much more human-like fashion, then purposefully turned only his head to look directly where Bruce's beacon said he was. The kid whipped his head around right as Bruce seemingly melted out of the shadows, his size and sheer presence seemingly dwarfing the kid, who sucked in a surprised breath but barely moved an inch. Impressive.
"Yes?" Bruce growled softly, not the unpleasant, gravelly growl reserved for criminals, but the warm, gentle rumble reserved for kids and victims.
The kid's awe only grew more pronounced, but somehow he still managed to pull himself together enough to speak. "H-hi, my name's Phantom, I'm not sure if you've heard of me or not. I'd like to ask for sanctuary for myself and my fright-mates. Our previous haunt has become rather hostile towards us, and I'm not strong enough to keep them safe. Um, I've got some gifts for you and your clan, I wasn't sure how large your clan was, so I'm sorry if I offend you or anything with the lack of gifts for everyone. M-may I pull them out?" He asked, lifting the duffle slightly to indicate what he meant.
Bruce was silent as he waited for the rest of the bats and birds to form a loose circle around Phantom, stances mostly non-threatening, and stepped forward into the glow coming from the kid. At this point, the kid's awe was nearly palpable, glancing at as many of them as he could but always facing Bruce and not moving more than his eyes.
After a further moment, Bruce tilted his head slightly and nodded, causing the kid to outright beam.
"Right! Well, first, for yourself, I have a set of ghost steel batarangs, enchanted to return to their case once they leave a hundred yard radius. They're tied specifically to the case, so you can lend them to someone else, but it's recommended you be the only one to use them for the first ten uses in live combat. Next, for Black Bat, a cloak made by the best undead tailors this side of eternity. Made from the shadows themselves, whoever wears it becomes functionally invisible in low light conditions and beyond. I was also told it grants slight shadow manipulation, as well. For Robin, a shape shifting sword from the fey realms themselves, fitting for a changeling child. All curses and tricks were totally removed, as we weren't certain you wouldn't share it with some of your clan mates, and we didn't want to accidently cause any problems that could have been averted—" Phantom kept going, pulling something from the bag, naming who it was for, and explaining a little about it, before putting it back in the bag and moving on. But what drew Tim's attention, time and time again, was the fact that Phantom seemed to be under the impression they were actually members of the supernatural—he all but called Tim a kitsune, and definitely implied Damian was a changeling! It was both amusing the kid honestly thought they were members of the supernatural, and rather concerning at the same time. They were all human, weren't they? They were method acting every time they suited up, heck, Tim was nothing more than a self trained contortionist that could mimic a few bird calls and knew a bit of self defense. Why did this kid, who was possibly an actual ghost, think they were supernaturally inclined? Were they really that good at method acting? Or was there something more to it than that?
=============‹«⟨·•★•·⟩»›=============
Hey, guys! I literally stayed up working on this until midnight, so already in pushing my self proclaimed boundaries (⁠;⁠^⁠ω⁠^⁠)I had so much help from my friends on the @batpham-discord-highlights discord server, I'll look into tagging everyone that helped in the morning when I'm not struggling to stay awake (⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠;⁠) I hope you enjoyed this long fic, guys, cuz I was NOT expecting to write 3,266 words today! Good night, good morning, good day!
1K notes · View notes
kit-williams · 2 months
Text
I wanna be your slave
Tumblr media Tumblr media
White Scar: Nogai Sengik Darling: Хонгор which means honey in Mongolian
tw: yandere, corruption kink?
TAG LIST: @bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog @thevoidscreams-a-back
You were going to get married soon... to be the 5th wife of the first son of a neighboring tribe. Your parents were getting a number of goats for this agreement. Your friend, Yesui, sat next to you as the two of you were weaving in the field just looking out at the distance... you would lose this view... you would loose Yesui... you would lose seeing Lord Nogai maneuver as fast as he could around the rocks on the path from the impossibly distant fortress of the White Scars.
But this is your fate as the 7th daughter of your father but from his 3rd wife... to not marry for love but for duty. You were going to miss it all... as you lean against Yesui letting your hands stall as the words told you so many times... 'you shall do this for the good of the family'... 'you can easily learn to love your husband'... 'it hardly matters as long as he keeps you alive...'
You could feel Yesui hug you tightly... she was lucky... she got to be the first wife to one of the boys that she truly fancied... you? Well you were assured he wasn't going to beat you but it seemed that after his 2nd wife... his 3rd and 4th wife he had trouble to remember their names and that made your heart ache. "You'll be okay." She says petting your head as you just numbly nodded... "Oh look! It's Lord Nogai oh his speeder bike." She says trying her best to get you to perk up as you watch him race faster than the wind down the dangerous winding path in the distance.
You remember when he learned that you and Yesui tended to sit here and were able to watch him you could tell it always made him swell with pride. Your tribe was less nomadic and in a central spot that allowed the white scars to visit a few times a month when they knew a new tribe would be passing by and be able to recruit. It meant that Lord Nogai could show off his skills and then drive up to you and Yesui and talk perhaps occasionally share a quick meal before you tell him which families are here.
"You can be brave..." Yesui whispers knowing you were tempted to not even tell Lord Nogai of what was going to happen... but Yesui swore that there was a fondness he held for you in his eyes and besides... everyone else knew what was going on why not someone who would eventually come and possibly collect your sons?
The bike came to a stop just at the top of the hill they were on and the two of them went to go greet Lord Nogai as he took off his helmet and his dark brown nearly black eyes looked at the two of them as his black hair was tied back and now only being tussled by the wind. "And my two favorite girls!" He says with mirth and laugh as this was something you'd miss... no matter the occasion... he would be happy... he could make you laugh and make you savor life as easily as he rushes into battles with a smile on his lips and joy in his heart.
"So who is visiting the clan today." He says as you two tell him who is there and you can see the quirk in his eyebrow when you mention on how the Yeke are here.
"They normally don't visit around this time of year what's the occasion?" He says cocking his as Yesui elbows you and this causes Nogai to focus on you with a smile still on his face.
"I'm getting married to Sukh." You finally say feeling the pressure leave your chest like a hawk with a kill in its talons.
Nogai makes a half sucking in air half click of his tongue against his teeth sort of noise as his brown nearly black eyes look away as if processing that information. "So when will you be in your new husband's home?" He asks in an oddly worded way but you dismiss it as just him being above such things.
"Next year once the lambs are fat and weaned from their mothers." You say unenthused... you can't help but think how you'll miss Nogai as he comes around so often but you've been spoiled for attention... spoiled for his friendship.
He nods before putting his helmet back on, "Well we have many more times we can still converse and share some curds to eat." He says with his chipper voice. The two of them back away from the massive bike as he drives off with a simple goodbye and you sigh as you lean against Yesui.
"See that wasn't so hard." Yesui says as you .
"Yeah... you're right." But oh how wrong you were. Homecoming was a nightmare as you placed the baskets down and look at the family as one of your sisters comes by and slaps you screaming at you. Suddenly so many people were screaming at you as you were being talked to, talked down too... praised by your one grandmother as she kissed your cheeks holding your face just crooning happily. Your heart was hammering as you were brought home as you looked at your father and his wives.
"Sit." Was all he said and banished everyone else however grandmother took her spot in the yurt with a smile on her face as she looks around before gesturing to your father to start. He inhales looking at you sternly, "What did you do."
You look at your father confused, "I have been out in the fields-"
"Did you spread your legs for him too? Was Sukh not good enough?" One of the wives said.
"What?"
"Be quiet." Your father snaps to her before looking at you again. "Nogai. He came to the village as it sounds like you know. What did he say to you?"
You wonder what Nogai said... normally everyone was thrilled by his visits; though you saw him pass by and did not see a boy with him so no one was suitable enough to be taken for the space marines which would be cause for celebration. "He asked the normal affairs... I mentioned that I was getting married to Sukh of the Yeke..."
Your grandmother lets out her whistling laugh. As you watch your father sigh and everyone seems to shift in rolling emotions, "While I was talking with the Yeke... Nogai came and made his usual pleasantries..."
"He asked for your hand in marriage in front of the Yeke." Your grandmother interrupts laughing and you look at her shocked.
"He did what?" You manage to say.
"Don't play dumb! What did you do?! Why have you brought this upon us? You were suppose to get married and-" the second wife begins.
"Be quiet!" Your father snaps again and you just grip your dress looking confused. "Have you been seducing him behind our backs?" He says sternly.
"No!" You say quickly as you hardly have flirted with the warrior. Perhaps in passing... failed attempts from you before you were told whom you were to marry. The most scandalous thing you can think of is sitting in his lap as he let you ride on his bike with him and perhaps sharing some food with him letting him feed you some rich food as you shared your simple curds and other hand made meals for him. "Nothing I have done... I.. no I have been a good daughter." You say desperate to defend yourself. Your eyes glance to your mother but she refuses to make eye contact with you most likely cowing to the wrath of the second wife... you cannot read the indifference that exudes from the head wife... you can feel the mirth from your paternal grandmother. No one is happy with you... "Father-"
"Out. I need to think." He demands and like a good daughter... you obey. You stay away from your sisters who hold their wrathful mother's opinion... a whore. Is what you hear whispered... how dare you seduce an Astartis? When you knew your place. You feel the desire to cry but you decide to hold it all in until the next day during chores to cry... everyone else is called for meal... it is a brother that tells you that father still is upset and deciding your fate.
The wind is cold... as you sit outside just waiting as you soon hear that whistling laugh as a small portable pot is placed next to you. "Yesui would appreciate the extra food... given her moon blood is about to end..." She says with a small knowing smile.
"What did I do? What happened?"
She starts to laugh again petting your head, "Your father and the patriarch of the Yeke were finalizing your marriage to Sukh when Nogai entered. Jovial as always but like a trickster he hid his intentions close to his chest. He sat with them... ate and drank with them... showed your father one of his trophies from a great distant conflict... its a wonderful knife. Refused to take it back and when your father asked why. Nogai said it was his offering for your marriage. Everyone was stunned... and it only all fell apart after Nogai left. Personally dear I am happy for you my great aunt got married to a white scar. His second wife is angry at you..." She waves her hand, "Upset that not one of her daughters could catch his eyes but it was you."
"But I didn't do anything?" You say feeling the tears threaten the corners of your eyes.
"Why do you feel like you have to have done something? That's why my great aunt was chosen as I was told... they simply pick a person they like. Go eat with Yesui." She said petting your head one last time before you go over to her yurt and lucky for her she and her husband are willing to house you for the night.
The next month is miserable as your family sways between praise and condemnation... how she feels like more of an outcast and she practically flees to the field when she hears the Yeke are coming back around. Father seeing if he can't marry off another daughter... its all but guaranteed that Nogai will marry you but you feel so mad.
You avoid him when he comes in to the village but there is no avoiding him when he leaves as he parks his bike and comes to you. "Will you share a meal with me, Хонгор?"
You slap his chest ignoring the pain in your hand as hot tears roll down your cheek a months worth of anger. "Why are you so foolish!" You shout at the space marine as he sits down unfolding the bundle. He lights the small portable fire and sets a pot down on it reheating the meal as he is clearly listening to you but setting up his meal. "Why! Why have you done this!" He pours himself some fermented milk as he motions for you to sit, "NO! I will not! You have caused my family to be in an uproar over your actions! My father's 2nd wife is seething at me... my own mother will not defend me... the Yeke are threatening my family for making them look foolish!" Your tears roll down your cheeks as you're so mad at Nogai. "WHY!"
He sets down his mug, "I did not think my request would upset you. Perhaps I should have..." He mused his words... his eyes looking to the sky before softening, "I should have told you my intentions. And for that I apologize." You squirmed under his apology as this wasn't what you were expecting.
You wipe your overflowing eyes as you sob at the concern on his face... everyone who did support you had to do so softly and then you feel him wrap you up in a hug as you hug him back. "Why did you ruin everything?"
"Ruin?"
"This is what I was told I would do... told I would be! I was a good daughter and now my siblings are calling me names... I was slapped the day I came home! I was a good daughter!"
"You never stopped being good, Хонгор..." You feel the ghost of his lips against the side of your head. "My dear Хонгор... it will be alright."
"What wife will I be?" You say sniffling.
"Out of all of the wives I have had or currently." He says with a cheeky smile in his voice.
"I care not."
"You will be my first and so far only wife... so I suppose you'd be a head wife." He says pulling you back into the long grass with him his arms wrapped around you as you can smell the stew cooking hearing the bubbling of the contents inside the pot.
"Why..." You say softly listening to his hearts beat and of course he would hear you speak.
"Why else would a man take a wife? Yes perhaps to secure alliances... to secure cooperation between families..." He sits up with you and you feel his hand under your chin tilt your face up to look into his gentle brown eyes, "But I want you because I love you."
Your throat tightens as your eyes meet his as your breath is held for far too long... his mouth kissing just the corner of yours. "White Scars rarely take wives. My grandmother told me... you all are free spirits laughing... lovers you will take and like trickster spirits fleeting lovers... so-"
You are cut off as he takes your hand and presses it to his throat. Your hand trembles at the feeling of just his throat against your hand... you feel unworthy to hold it but he keeps it there as he leans in pressing his forehead to yours. "I offer you myself... I offer to be a kind and fair husband... I offer you my freedom."
"Nogai no." You say recoiling but he keeps your hand on his throat, his hand on your hip, keeping you close.
"Yes Хонгор. Listen to me... I give you my all. I give you myself." He says with devotion in his eyes, "I can take you away right now..." He whispers... "I gave your father payment for you... you can come away with me. It's all your choice..." His hands cup your face and you realize you're holding his throat all on your own. Your heart beating fast and hard as no mortal woman should have this much power... is this what your grandmother's great aunt felt when she was taken? Your heart and mind are racing as everything you've been taught... been told to sacrifice are all falling to the wayside as you pull yourself closer and kiss him.
A meal is shared between the two of you and you know he lingers longer than he normally does but you are unwilling to let him part... He tells you he will only leave when you dismiss him... and you let him linger... until it is so very late and he offers you to rest with him as he seems to have a small tarp to make a lean to with.
Perhaps you could be a little selfish?
74 notes · View notes
ghostheartfelt · 10 months
Text
*:・。☆ tags: damsel in distress!reader, reader will have a father daughter relationship with dutch, slowburn romance, no use of y/n, reader is nicknamed "Miracle" once she settles in with the gang. THIS IS SET BEFORE THE FLEE OF BLACKWATER.
*:・。☆ warnings: mentions of kidnapping/attempts of kidnapping, blood and gore (mostly js people gettin shot n shit 🙏🏼 it's rdr afterall.) period typical undertones of sexism. canon typical violence. mentions of animal abuse/neglect
〔☆〕 desc: during a little break at the saloon, you're interrupted by an O'Driscoll who presses a gun to your back and forces you out of the saloon for a kidnapping. the Van Der Linde group comes to your rescue.
.. ☆ next part | masterlist (tbe)
—✩ A WOLF’S BANE P. ⅰ ✩—
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
word count — 2.3k
a/n: hey! this is part one of my arthur morgan x fem!reader slowburn series. i know it starts off a little funky, but i promise you’re in for a treat!! feedback/ideas are greatly appreciated! 🤭🪭 this part is mostly focused on the reader developing relationships with the other members of the gang. (p.s i promise reader isn’t a mary sue 😭 this is just for build up!)
Tumblr media
Your hands stay busy loading and spinning the barrel of your duel Widowmakers. They were beautifully customized, and you just purchased a brand new cylinder from the gunsmith. There were elk carvings on the wood handle—your holsters having the same stitching as they rest on your waist under your coat—and freshly polished metals.
You were quietly listening in on the discussions that swarmed at every angle in the Saloon. You’d traveled from Strawberry to Valentine to receive your prescription from Doctor Calloway.
Smithfield has tried a fair amount to ask you out for a dinner, or a horseback ride to Saint Denis, and as much as you loved horseback riding, you declined kindly.
He mailed you a letter asking that you come to his office to obtain it. You caught a stagecoach and paid five dollars for the ride, then took yourself to the saloon first for a quick lamb heart stew, which was something you always made sure to grab upon visiting Valentine, making you a familiar customer with the owner, Mr. Smithfield.
As you stood and adjusted your skirt while stuffing your revolver into its holster that stayed hidden under your coat, a barrel of a gun pressed against your back. Your eyes shot open and you refused to turn your head to see who your threat was.
The man stunk of alcohol, cigarettes, and pure grime, and the scent only grew stronger as you felt his face press against your hair to whisper in your ear.
“Act natural, pretty thing.”
His body closed in against your back with his hip bones digging into your waist. He wasn’t very tall, nor muscular, perhaps about five foot six.
“Do you always greet a pretty woman like this?” You hiss quietly as he twists the gun into your back, guiding you out. He makes sure to snatche your purse from off the table you were seated at—which you didn’t mind too much since you were struggling financially with only about thirty dollars to your name—you didn’t even get to pay your tab off. You hoped Smithfield would understand.
“Shut up and move, girl.” He rejoined.
Undoubtedly, your heart raced in your chest as you both stepped out of the Saloon. There’s another stagecoach with a few other men seated, causing your eyes to widen. This is a kidnapping, not a robbery, you thought, and that was when sweat began to head down from your scalp.
“She’s a good one, Welts!” one snorted. He had crooked and several missing teeth, a lazy eye, and his brown hair was greasy, and he just looked downright disgusting.
“O’Driscoll will be real happy!”
That was when you froze in your place as you were turned around and patted down for any extra goods; the male in front of you had managed to find a pearl necklace from the depths of your dress pocket, and you scrambled to try and grab it from him.
“Please, don’t take that, take anything else.” You were surprised to find yourself pleading to this man. To an O’Driscoll.
Welt’s head tilted and he let out a loud laugh before he took his revolver, slamming the barrel and cylinder rough against your cheekbone, immediate pain and heat surged as it quickly began to swell, and your body twists, landing on the ground with your palms flat in the dirt below you.
You reach one of your hands—that had grains of tiny rocks stuck in your bleeding skin—up to touch your cheek, a quick feeling of regret causing you to yank your head away from the pain.
“You’re a scum!” you try to turn your head, yet he grabs a full fist of your hair and unsheathes his knife, cutting off a thick chunk of your locks. You gasped weakly.
The men above you bursted into laughter while instead tears stung your eyes. “Speak when spoken to, woman,” he grimaced. You feel for the hair he sliced, and your lip quivers. These were definitely Colm O’Driscoll’s men.
Welts gripped your upper arm, and pulled you onto your feet. Accidentally, you rip your dress from your feet getting caught in the fabric as you struggle to stand with the man swinging you around like a lasso.
You feel his revolver get pinned into your back once again as he taps the barrel against you, gesturing you to walk towards the coach. You hesitated, which he didn’t take kindly. You heard the hammer click, and that’s when you caught yourself walking.
“Hello, gentlemen!” an exuberant voice joins in, and you turn your head to look at the man. He was neatly shaven, besides just a bit of clean stubble along his chin. His hair seemed slicked back at the top, even with a black hat, and he was in a long-sleeved white and blue striped shirt, a black vest, and black slacks.
His boots were black with brown spurs. He had his hand on his belt, though not over his holsters that you think were home to dual revolvers. You were just about tired of seeing men with guns.
Guns. You thought. I’m as dumb as a rat—you shimmy your arm down to press against your waist, feeling for your Widowmakers. You felt the hardness with your wrist, playing it calm, and cool. Welts was just as dumb, if not more—he hasn’t even realized you were armed, not that you knew how to use them, anyway. Your hand drags away. Most likely, you wouldn’t be able to beat the man in a sharpshoot.
“Now, a little birdy told me you were being not so nice to this innocent woman, is that true?” The black-haired male, being passive aggressive, sends you kind eyes that leave you feeling skeptical.
You notice his friends.
One was in a low ponytail, and had a sombrero on his head, and the other had olive skin and a hat with a small feather in it’s band.
“She’s my wife, she’s drunk, and these men have offered to take us home. Go along with your business.” Welts snarled as he pushed your shins into the step of the stagecoach. Never in a million years would you even think to date or marry an O’Driscoll—especially not him.
His hair was greasy, and there was collected dirt behind his ears. With his gapped teeth, and his uncared for eyebrows. You wanted to murder the ratbag for laying his dirty fingers on you.
“You tellin’ me the little birdy is a liar?” the man asks, his tone lowering.
“Hell is your problem?” Welts’ eyebrows furrowed.
His gun against your back was starting to feel like it was forming a circular mark on your back from the muzzle.
“I surely don’t remember a time where I saw a loyal man pinning a gun to his wife’s back,” another one of the man’s friends appeared. He had darker skin, Native American features, and a braid running down his own back.
His arms were folded against his chest that was covered in a brown long-sleeved tunic.
“Do you know this man, miss?” His eyes drag to yours with a softer expression creasing his features.
Once you open your mouth to speak, you’re silenced with a quick shoulder shove forcing you into the coach.
“She does, now leave us be.” He sat himself down next to you. Your head turns to look at them as your face twists into fear.
There were five men; the black-haired one, the one with the braid, the male with the ponytail, the scarred Scottish man, and another male who was a bit taller and quieter. His hair was more brown, his face was scruffy, and he wore a black gamblers hat.
“Come on now, hold your horses, compadre!” The one with the ponytail waved his hand in the air, though the man standing in the front seat of the stagecoach flicked the reins against the hinds of both of the gray and black horses, causing them to squeal and chase out of Valentine.
Panic surged through you, raising your adrenaline. When you try to crane your head to see if the men decided to leave, your chest is pushed back against the seat by one of Welts’ companions. Suddenly, the one who’d exchanged you the soft look—which you now have come to believe was the leader—yelled out, and all the men followed his command. “Saddle up, boys, we got ourselves a couple’a maggots!”
You heard two, or three, or four, of them whistle a call to their horses and moments later, they were chasing down the stagecoach. You felt a tinge of hope, and trusted that these men would save you.
“Can these sons’a bitches go any faster?!” Welts hands gripped the seat the driver sat on with his head turned over his shoulder.
When the shooting began, you quickly ducked and let out a distressed noise. Bullets flew all around you, and you covered your ears. You looked up, and immediately the driver had a bullet pierce his skull. You screamed, some of the red paste splattering onto your face. The driver fell off the front of the coach, and you gasped as the wheels ran over the body, the lump making you wobble. You lift yourself up, and take a hold of the seats to stabilize yourself.
The horses stressed, unsure what to do, and you looked around frantically. Another one of the men attempted to cross over and take hold of the reins, but he received the same fate, instead his body leaned over yours, and you pushed it off the edge before it toppled on you.
“Girl!” One of the men yelled, catching your attention. “Do ya know how to drive that thing?!” His accent was thick, and his voice was deep with a slight rasp. You’d gotten a more clear look at his face now that it wasn’t half-covered with his hat. “I said, do ya know how to drive it?!” His horse sped up along the side of the coach, and you frantically nodded your head. You used to be a Stagecoach Taxi at fourteen. You just hoped you still had it in you.
You tore the fabric of the hem of your dress some more until the fabric stopped just above your knees, then hopped over before you’re pulled back by the neck; a man’s arm choking you and smashing both sides of your head as he squeezed his arm making you fall back onto the floor. “Stupid bitch,” the man huffed and grunted, shooting off a few rounds.
“Arthur, Arthur, no!” the leader yelled from behind. “You’ll risk shootin’ her! Put that gun down!”
He was right; the coach was teetering from side to side, and would be sure to tumble off the edge of a cliff if it were to get close enough.
They’d be sure to go off-road with the horses only knowing to go in one direction at the speed they were currently.
These horses were abused, whip welts covering both their hinds and backs, it was disgusting.
You sputtered out a few coughs as the man cut off your entire circulation, your fingers to pry at his arms and your nails scratch at his skin.
He drops you and you slump onto the floor. You hit your head on some metal, yet quickly recover. While the man is distracted, you throw your head at his pants and bite on his groin through the slacks, immediately, he lets out a yowl and accidentally pulls the trigger of his Litchfield Rifle as he falls off the carriage, which ricochets off a steel base, and strikes your shoulder.
A cry leaves your throat and you slap your hand over the wound. Blood seeps through the cloth of your ruffled top, but you swing yourself back over and take hold of the reins.
You feel your head pounding, but you pull back the reins and attempt to slow the horses down, though they don’t abide. The horses are panicked, unsure how to react.
“Don’t stop the coach!” the man with the feather in his hat, shooting over his shoulder.
”Well, what the hell do I do then?!” Your eyebrows furrow. “There’s more! They just keep comin’!” you turn your head at his words, and your eyes widen to see more O’Driscoll men trailing behind on coaches and horses.
“Jump on my horse!” The man with the striped shirt yells in your direction, and you look at him as if he’s crazy. “I’ll grab you, don’t worry about falling, but hurry it up!” His voice booms, going rasp.
“Now! Now!” He pulls back the reins of his horse, causing it to halt, and with a running start, you jump off the coach and onto his horse, his arm pulling you up as you almost fall off the horse’s hind to sit upright.
The horses to the coach attempt to stop at the edge of the cliff they ran too, though the coach pushes them over. You gasp, and turn your head as your hands grip the man’s jacket that was in front of you.
“Sorry for the inconvenience, sweetheart,” he clears his throat, and turns his horse around. His friends caught up, and their horses skidded to a stop.
“Dutch! What the hell was that for?” The male, who had directed you to not stop the stagecoach, his face was twisted with fury.
“Do you trust me, or not, son?” The man, who now is identified as Dutch, questions him, then elbows you lightly. “John Marston, he’s the hothead if you couldn’t tell, ain’t that right, boys?” He let out a humorous laugh. “Damn straight.” The one with the sombrero howls.
You had to keep yourself from passing out, which failed miserably. “You alright back there, miss?” He nudged your body again. Your eyes began to shut on you, and you slumped against the man’s back, then began to slide off the horse and onto the ground.
“Shit, shit!” Dutch took quick notice of your wounds. “Ain’t any of you tell me she was shot!” He wheezed, rushing off his horse. Everything faded to black.
208 notes · View notes
spookytastemakercolor · 8 months
Note
Overprotective dad Bob Velseb??? 💳💥💳💥💳💥
Dad knows best!
Dad!Bob velseb x Daughter/Son!Reader
Yesssssssss!!!!!!!!!! You have gotten my interest little Mothling! (And just at the perfect time!) I don't see anything about headcannons so for you I shall give a short story! And I know EXACTLY what to write about! TW this is very gorey and graphic.
Warnings: Blood, gore, cannibalism, nudity, mentions of cheating, Bob being overprotective as hell, dead body, killing, cursing, teeny bit of angst, tooth rotting fluff
Tumblr media
The front door slams shut as you run upstairs to your room, tears streaming down your face. The sound of another door slamming in the house rings throughout the halls, Bob wasn't home yet. You were alone in the house, and you found that as a blessing as you cried into your pillow in your room. Bob was going to loose his shit if he found out.......
---- Time skip ----
It was late now, probably 2, before Bob came back home. He dragged a mutilated body with him and smiled crazily " Littl' lamb! I'm home! " his southern accent called out. He got worried and his smile went away when you didn't come and greet him, not even a reply from somewhere in the house! He dragged the body into the blood and guts covered kitchen, which desperately needed to be cleaned, and sighed in relief when he noticed you in the kitchen. " Littl' lamb! There ya' are! Ya' got me worried there when ya' didn't respond..... " he chuckled slightly as he threw the body onto a table that acted as a chopping board for y'all.
" So! Tell me my littl' killer, how'd your date go? " Bob knew you had been raving about a date your boyfriend set up for you two, he didn't approve of him at all but knew he had to accept him just for you. He was about to chop off a arm but stopped and looked over at you worried when you didn't say anything " Littl' lamb? " he asked concerned. You finally showed him your face, tears streamed and fell from your eyes. It looked like you had been crying all day.......
Bob quickly set down the butcher knife and quickly hugged you " Hey hey hey... It's alright littl' lamb. What happened? " he was concerned and also slightly angry, knowing your boyfriend had something to do with this. You hug him close and cry into his chest, not being able to talk without sobbing " H-he...... H-He cheated on me........ " " WHAT!?!?!?!? " Bob screamed, his voice was deep and sounded like a demon out of hell. Oh he was angry. . . . No. That's not the right word. . . . . . . . HE WAS ABSOLUTELY BEYOND WORDS FOR HIS ANGER.
Bob's voice was still deep and demonic as he held you closer than before " What. Did. He. Do. " he demanded a explanation before he went on a absolute murder spree. You sniffled, hugging him closer and starting to explain what happened between crying " H-He took me out to the park....... A-and once we reached the entrance I turned around to kiss him b-but he pushed me away......... " you started crying more as you continued " I-I tried asking h-him what was wrong......... B-but he laughed at me! " You started shaking slightly as Bob tried calming you down " H-He said I was pathetic...... T-that nobody would l-love the kid who's dad's a m-murderer........ H-He....... H-he....... "
Bob shushed you and started comforting you as you broke down, his grip was tight and his voice was comforting and strained " Ya' don't have to continue...... Just calm down littl' lamb.......... Dad's gotcha'........ " he held you close as you cried into him, he was holding himself back from going and killing that boy and hunt down every person related to him. But that could wait, you needed Bob right now.
Slowly Bob calmed you down, still holding you close as you started to feel better but not yet done crying. Bob was using whatever will he still had left not to just go after that boy already, his anger was rising the more he thought about it that he started to mumbled to himself about what he'd do once he got his hands on him. " I swear'. Once I get my hands' on him I'll- " he stopped rambling when he felt you shift in his hold, quickly turning his attention back to you with a soft expression on his face " I-It's fine dad........ Y-You don't need to waste your time like that.......... " your voice was hushed and small as you talked, voice slightly horse as well as you wiped away whatever tears came from your eyes.
Bob wasn't having it thought, he refused to, that boy deserved to be hunted for hurting his littl' lamb. That's when he had a idea. A smug and soft smile over takes his face as he looks at you, softly wiping your remaining tears away as he slowly started to calm down " Littl' lamb, hey, look at me. " you lift your head up towards him, the hug not as restricting as before as a look of curiosity is seen in your eyes. Bob's smile just seems to grow, not being able to restrain his pure excitement over his idea to cheer you up " Why don't I take ya' out for some killin'? Like old times'! " you slowly nodded in agreement, a small smile comes onto your face as the idea brings some joy to your gloomy mood.
" Sure! I just need to get ready! " Bob let's out a short laugh as you quickly leave his hug, running upstairs towards your room to most certainly change into something disposable. He had a soft smile on his face as he turned back to the body on the table, picking back up the butcher knife as he starts cutting up the body to put it in the freezer. As he cuts up the body a sickening smile grows on his face, his eyes going slightly insane as his pupils turn cyan. That BOY was going to suffer for what he did, and he'd make sure of it.
" Ya' messed with the wrong family ya' little bitch....... " He mumbled under his breath as he harshly chopped off the head, the sound of the cervical vertebra breaking instead of splitting only emphasising just how hard he slammed down the butcher knife. Blood sprayed onto him as he looked at the cracked vertebra blankly, his pupils a deep cyan and his smile wide with insanity. " Dad! Really! " the sound of you scolding him for getting blood on himself broke his blank stare, he turned his attention to you and chuckled nervously " I'll change! Don't ya' worry! "
---- Time skip ----
You both were outside of a all too familiar house, a look of pure confusion on your face as you looked over to Bob. " Dad, what are we doing here?????? " your voice was a whisper as you didn't want to get caught, or worse someone heard you and recorded your conversation. Bob had a soft and nervous smile on his face, looking over to you as he held his signature knife in one had and scratched at his neck with his other hand " I know ya' said you wanted me ta' leave it be, but I can't! He hurt my littl' devil and he needs to pay! So, I thought that if ya' kill him you'd no longer be so sad! "
You looked slightly perplexed at his confession, thinking about it as you tossed your own knife Bob hand made you between your hands. The more you thought about it, the more you wanted to indulge in the idea of killing your now ex more. It only solidified as you heard a door open from his house, and out walked a barbie blonde who waved bye to him from his window. You turn to Bob, adorning a insane smile on your face, as you gripped your knife handle hard in your dominate hand and let out a sinister chuckle " Well, I suppose getting rid of the source of my pain isn't so bad~...... "
Bob's own insane smile took his face, his pupils a nice cyan, and he let out a pleased chuckle when your voice mimicked it's own demonic tone " That's my girl/boy. " his own voice went demonic as you both had equally insane looks on your faces, oh tonight's bonding kill was gonna be F U N. You both made quick work of sneaking into the house and up the stairs towards his room, having to both contain yourselves from just running upstairs and getting to him already. The house was a complete mess which made it slightly difficult to sneak upstairs, various bottles were scattered everywhere and old takeout food or clothes were just strewn all over the place " No wonder he never let me over, it's a fucking mess in here...... " you mumbled with clear disgust, you may have a gory kitchen but it wasn't as bad as your ex's house.
When you made it upstairs his door was slightly cracked open, giving you a chance to hear his conversation he was having with someone over the phone. He let out a laugh as both you and Bob waited outside the door for the right time to strike, it seemed whoever he was talking to was a friend of his " Hahah! Yeah! You should have seen the look on her/his face! Like I'd ever date the literal definition of insane, she/he was absolutely obsessed with me! " that when you realize he was talking about you, more specifically how you had put your entire heart into the relationship and he viewed it as you being obsessed or insane. You didn't need to look over towards Bob to know he was SEETHING, the ever growing feeling of his death stare at the door told you all you needed to know.
" Anyway, I gotta go, Ashely is supposed to be coming over soon. " you almost felt revoltion and anger bubble in your stomach like acid, now having Bob stare at you in wait for if you'd break down the door or not. Ashely was his " ex ", but when he broke up with you she was there to rub in your face they'd been sleeping together since you two started dating. When he hanged up you waited a minute, hearing the light go off so he was in the dark and a twisted smirk came onto your face " Dad, do you think you can keep a eye out for her real quickly? " your voice was hushed as the unmistakable sound of the front door opening and closing is heard, Bob quickly catching on to what you were going to do and sneaking down stairs to " Greet " the new guest.
Slowly you opened the door to his room, your eyes giving you the advantage to see him laying face up on his bed. You had to suppress a scoff and gag as you notice him completely naked on the bed, his pathetic excuse of a manhood on display if the lights were on " Ashely! Why don't you come here~? " You had to control yourself as he called you Ashely, unaware it was you and not her. But you knew it wouldn't be long before he realized it's you, and your insane smile only grew as you made quick work of making your way towards him. You noticed cuffs attached to the headboard and quickly cuffed his wrists to the headboard, him chuckling as he was none the wiser to what was going to happen " Damn, really Ash- " " I'm not Ashely~.......... "
Almost immediately horror took over his face, he sorta freezes in place as he realizes it's you and that he was cuffed to his headboard. Bob ended up coming up the stairs holding something behind his back, giving a sinister and disgusted chuckle at the scene before him in the dark " Well then, shall we give him a gift before we begin? " You found a switch, causing the room to be flooded in red lighting which made you giggle, you moved towards Bob and looked behind his back which draws a excited gasp from you. " Oh yes! That's the perfect gift! " he ended up starting to struggle in the cuffs, causing Bob to get annoyed and quickly make his way over and stab one of his legs still to the bed. A bloodcurdling scream is ripped out of him, Bob's knife tearing through Muscle, tendons, nerves, veins, all the way to the bone which is split right where the knife was stabbed into.
A unmistakable crack was heard with the squelching of blood quickly rushing to the surface and spraying out the wound, no doubt to any of you that his Fibula and Tibia were possibly split from the middle through bone marrow and all. You let out a laugh and made your way over to him as well, making quick work to stab his other leg in the same spot and manner as his other leg, relishing in the scream that's drawn from him as you look to Bob with insanity almost plastered to your grin. " Let's give him his gift! I simply can't wait! " excitement oozed from your voice as your ex started to panic, his legs were most certainly useless and if he struggled he'd probably split the bones of his calves in half more than now. So in hopeless dispair he could only helplessly look between you two, eyes moving rapily between you two as his panic increased " S-Suprise? O-oh god. Please n-no. D-Don't tell m-me tha- "
Before he was able to say much more, Bob moved what he was holding behind his back to your ex's face, causing your ex to pale and almost vomit on the spot at the sight in front of him " Aww~, don't be like that with your G I R L F R I E N D. " in front of your ex was the mutilated head of Ashely, a permanent look of pure horror on her face in the form of a unreleased scream that never escaped her. At the base of her head, through the bloody mess that was there and dripped crimson red darker than a blood moon, her Cervical and part of her Thoracic spine hanged freely with a clean split right where Bob had cut her spine off. You clapped your hand's with glee as you looked at your ex's horrified face, grabbing at the exposed spine hanging from Ashley's cut off head and pulling at it.
The spine came out of her head and neck without much protest, causing the hole it left to pour a river of blood onto the bed with her tounge even falling out onto your ex's lap. Your ex threw up onto himself as Bob laughed and you wrapped the spine on your neck like a scarf, Bob throwing Ashley's head into your ex's lap and giving you a hug while putting pressure onto the knife in his left leg " That suits you so well littl' devil! " Bob said as he twisted the knife the right causing his Fibula and Tibia to actually split in half, a scream that was loud enough to cause you and Bob to cover your ears coming from him as crimson blood came from him like a water fountain. " Y-You're INSANE!!! B-BOTH OF YOU!!!! " you let out a laugh as you got out of Bob's hug and harshly grabbed your ex by the throat, causing him to slightly gasp for air as you were face to face with each other.
Bob leaned against a wall close to the bedroom door, having a smug smile on his face as he decided to let you have this kill for your outing. Your eyes were a deep cyan as you yanked the knife out of his left leg and held it against his chest, you truly looked like Bob's daughter/son in that moment as you adorned his famous smile and crazed eyes that everyone knew " I'm more than insane..... I'm the DEFINITION of insanity. Now. ⱠɆ₮'₴ ₲Ɇ₮ ₮Ø ₮ⱧɆ ₣Ʉ₦ ₱₳Ɽ₮.... "
---- Time skip ----
The walk back home was filled with laughter and maybe even a buzz of excitement? But it was very evident that both your bloodlust were satisfied and so was your satisfaction of revenge, if anyone needed more proof about that both you and Bob were covered head to toe in blood. Bob let out a content sigh as he wore a relaxed smile on his face as you both walked, looking downward behind you both to what little remained of your ex's body that he was dragging along (I'll spare the details about it.....).
" So my littl' lamb! Feelin' better? " Bob asked you while he looked at you with a small look of nervousness, he didn't want you to be sad after everything you just did to your mutilated and mangled ex's body. But when you gave Bob a relaxed and happy smile as you began to rant about how much fun you had and how you felt better, his nervousness went away as he felt absolutely pleased to know you were better now. He listened intently to your ranting and let out small laughs here and there when you'd reenact things you did, he especially laughed when you mimicked you're ex's crying and screaming finding it funny remembering how girlish it was.
When you finished your rant you were already home outside of the front door, Bob throwing your ex's body into a campfire near the house starting to pour gasoline on it, you let out a sigh and hugged bob from the side as he lit a match. " Thank you Dad....... I couldn't wish for anyone else to be my dad..... " Bob smiled as he handed the lit match to you so you could throw it on your ex, the final act to cut all ties with him, and hugged you back with a slightly tight grip on you. " Of course...... Anythin' for my littl' devil. " You couldn't help but feel absolutely important and loved when Bob said that, you already knew your dad loved you but it's always nice to hear him tell you that sometimes. You threw the match onto your ex's body lighting it ablaze as you and Bob hugged each other, the smell of burning flesh floating in the air but not bothering either of you as you simply enjoyed your father daughter/son moment. Bob wearing a bigger smile than the two of you as he knew that he'd never let another boy near you, he'd kill any boy who dared look you're way and dare speak or break your heart. It's like the old saying-
Father knows best!
Tumblr media
So this definitely derailed from what I was originally gonna do ( ;∀;). BUT it works and I have very little motivation to go back and rewrite everything..... So! I'm sorry this took so long but I've already explained what was going on in a different post so please don't expect a deadline from me, and I hope you enjoy what I have written! If you have requests you want to ask me to do check out my requests page (Pinned comment with all my rules and comfort level for writing) and for now BYYYYYYEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!
92 notes · View notes
liveontelevision · 23 days
Text
A lil' somethin' (nothin' fancy)
Here's just a little random Lucifer blurb I wrote today, I liked the words is all, so enjoy maybe?
No romance, no fluff, no reader 😬 BUT I am working on something cute right now so stay tuned!
---
They say Lucifer lost his will to dream.
It was published in a book for goodness sake. Everyone in Hell knew what a failure he was. That being said, he did still have some creative outlets. He was a showman at heart, litering the seven rings with amusement parks, circus tents and stages; specifically made for Lillith's concerts, but it was used for other things as time went on.
In reality, he could create anything. Any item you could think of, he could conjure up with just the snap of his fingers. And he used that power often. A thriving realm wasn't just made of sinner's. It needed a working class. Now, when it came to Lucifer, he had all the same abilities as his heaven bound brothers. And they could create life. It was something Lucifer loved to do when he was above the clouds. Or used to, at least.
Don't get me wrong, his powers are still as strong as they were when he was an angel, but when he tried to create life like he used to, it.. it was just different. Like his power had some kind of distortion that he had to work around. Cute little cherubs turned into red skinned creatures with horns and goat legs, cats came out with one eye, and lambs came out with sharp teeth and wings.
He didn't mind them, and he would never take away a life just because of its appearance. So, he found work for them, no problem. They'll keep the realm running smoothly. And as he created more imps and other hellborn creatures, he became better at it. After some practice and honing of his skills he created, what he would call, his best work. A handful of creatures he deemed as rulers for each ring of hell. The Sins. He took pride in each being, creating them to embody the true notions that came with the knowledge of truth. He put his deepest desires into a little spider clown he called Mammon. All of his wanting and indulgence into a lovely little lava pup, and finally, his truest love and devotions into a spunky little rooster. (And others to come)
But it all turned on him. They became his proudest achievements in decades, but people saw them all as ruthless leaders. And in some cases, that's simply what they became. His desires, indulgence and devotion were viewed as greed, gluttony and lust. Word of these beings would travel to Heaven, only solidifying his tainted image to his brothers. But.. it was okay. He had a family now. The sins all grew to be incredibly close to Lucifer and Lillith, even giving their sweetest child a taste of what a communicative family would look like. Lucifer wanted nothing more than to create a loving environment for his daughter once she was born. And he took pride in the fact that he did.
---
In my head, I like to think that Lucifer created the sins this way. I see fan art of it all the time, and it's just so?? Cute??? Like Beezlebub feeding of Lucifer's depression vibes and comforting him, and the sins babysitting Charlie in general? aH I eat that shit up. I'm def thinking of including them in stories in the future 🙌
Ok that's all, thanks for reading my little thing :)
35 notes · View notes
togetherhearted · 1 month
Note
Hello! I would like to make a request. Yone x Reader, who is the mother of his daughter. Before his death, Yone dated Reader. She studied with him at the school of swordsmen. When the war came, they began to defend their homeland together. At some point, they were sent to different fronts. Before they went to defend the country, they spent the last night together. After Yone dies, Reader finds out that she is pregnant. After a while, she gives birth to a daughter and brings her up alone. How does Yone find out after his return to the world of the living that he has a daughter? Will he meet with Reader? Thank you very much!
I admit I took some...different choices? I just went overboard with it. I hope it's still good!
YONE AND HIS DAUGHTER
Tumblr media
Love. You can find it in hopeless places, in the strangest people. This was another unlikely love story between sword masters. One bound to end with a sour aftertaste. They fell in love on the battlefield, met each other in the same bed and let their bodies become one. The union brought a what was going to be a lovely girl;a sword master;just like her parents. Sad that the father never saw her grow up;nor her mother. She stood by her side as much as life allowed her;till a wolf and a lamb came to claim her. She had no regret;she did for her daughter;she protected her. Then her lost father came back as a demon hunter.They met a night;the young woman fighting for her life. She underestimated a demon and was about to meet her fate. A blade stopped its attack. Once saved the man, Yone, was about to leave but something in the young woman he helped looked familiar;the same features as his lost lover and the same eyes as him. Then it clicked, and memories flew on his mind;those sweet and painful memories. Yone wanted to say something, anything, but nothing came out.He only bowed his head to her newfound daughter and parted ways. Although the young woman swore to have seen him around her wherever she went, like a silent protector.
33 notes · View notes
tangledupinyellow · 8 months
Text
Dreams | Joel Miller X F!Reader
Tumblr media
authors note: First (of what I hope to be many because I love this man) Joel one shot! Just a little something short and sweet
summary: You and Joel live happily on a little farmhouse because that man deserves it.
warnings/tags: Fluff, no use of y/n, taking care of a newborn, Joel being a little softy, no outbreak au, no Sarah
word count: 1.4k
Joel wiped the sweat from his forehead and exhaled, taking a moment to wipe the dirt on his hands on his already dirty jeans. He latched the last stall up, double checking it to ensure it was secure. With a satisfied smile, he hung up the rope halter beside the stall, having just put the last horse from the pasture into the stall for the night. 
The sun was just setting, leaving the sky a painting of oranges and pinks. He had been in the barn and pasture nearly all day, working in the warm autumn sun. However, he didn't mind it at all. Sure, he was sweaty, tired, and sore, but this was the kind of life he wanted. This was the kind of life that he had always dreamed of. And with you, he was able to live out his dreams.
Before heading out for the night, Joel made his way around the barn, double-checking each stall to make sure that all the horses were secured and settled for the night with enough hay and water before he would be back the following day.
Stepping outside the barn, he returned to the pasture once more. A slight wind hit his back as the day's warmth slowly began to fade. He couldn’t help but smile as the small flock of sheep grazed on the sweet grass of the field. They looked just as satisfied as Joel was. 
A warmth filled his heart as he looked at his lambs and sheep, having as much love and care for them as he did for his family. He took a lot of pride in this little barn of his, and it showed with how much time and effort he put into it every day. Joel was always a hard-working man, especially when it came to something he was so passionate about. 
After putting everything away and double and triple-checking the barn, Joel started to make his way back to the house that he shared with you.
Joel felt completely serene in times like this after a hard day of work. He felt accomplished but, most of all, relaxed. Living so far away from any town isn’t really something that he saw himself doing, mostly because he didn’t want to be away alone. But that was until he met you. 
After meeting you, he felt like a missing part of his life was finally complete. You were the missing piece of the puzzle. He felt as if he didn’t need anything else. As long as you were in his life, he would be satisfied. You felt the same way as he did. And so, you were more than happy to move with him somewhere far away in the country where it could just be the two of you, living the rest of your days together. 
Knowing that the sun was just setting and it was soon to be getting late, Joel was extra aware of being quiet when he entered the house. He quietly kicked off his boots, tossing them to the side while slipping off his coat simultaneously.
Running a hand through his messy hair, he looked around to see that the kitchen and the living room were empty. It was a small house, so he knew you would have to be around somewhere. But he had a pretty good idea of where you were. 
He smiled softly and kept his footsteps light as he began making his way over to the nursery. And just like he expected, you were there standing over the crib with your baby girl cradled in your arms.  
He kept his eyes on you as he remained silent, leaning back against the doorframe as he admired the sight. You both had brought your girl home no longer than a week ago. Having a daughter was still relatively new to him, but when he found out you were pregnant, he promised you and himself that he would be the best father he could be to that baby girl.
The sound of you humming your baby to sleep warmed his heart. The love of his life holding the light of his life was definitely a sight to see. Joel remained quiet in the doorway, cherishing this moment for as long as he could.
Instead of saying anything, Joel approached you slowly, coming up from behind as he wrapped his arms around your waist, his chin resting upon your shoulder.
You quickly looked over your shoulder when you felt the sudden contact before smiling when you saw that it was Joel giving you the embrace, “Well, hello to you too.” You chuckled, keeping your voice in a whisper so you wouldn’t wake your daughter, whose eyes were finally starting to get heavy.
“Is she almost down?” Joel whispered quietly, feeling the movement of his chin on your shoulder. Not once did his eyes leave his daughter while he spoke.
“Almost.” You confirm, rocking her slowly in your arms.
Joel hummed in response and nodded, slowly swaying with you as you rocked your daughter. You leaned back against Joel a little and felt yourself start to relax slightly. Ever since you’ve brought her home, you felt as though you never got a moment of rest. You were always up with her, every moment of the night. It was exhausting, but moments like these made those restless nights all worth it. 
You felt his beard scratching your skin as he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck. You leaned back a little more against him and smiled, staring down at your young daughter as she became heavier in your arms, finally getting the sleep that she needed.
Kissing the top of her little forehead, you gently place her back down in the crib Joel had built for her months ago. Joel kept his arms wrapped around your waist as he watched you lovingly, putting your daughter down to bed with such tenderness and care.
“You’re the most perfect mother, y’know that?” Joel mumbled quietly in your ear, leaving a gentle nibble and kiss on your earlobe, making you laugh softly at the sensation, “And you gave me the most perfect baby..” He whispered, placing gentle kisses on your jaw and down to your neck.
“Joel..” You whispered and smiled, a bit surprised by all the sudden compliments he gave you, and pulled away from the embrace a little to caress his cheek.
“I'm tellin’’ the truth, honey.” His voice was hushed, being cautious not to wake his sleeping daughter while he stared into your eyes. You frown a little and move your hand up to his hair, running your fingers through his curls.
“Is everything alright?” You asked him, trying not to get too concerned.
Joel smiled before nodding, “I was just thinking..” He began. Just those words alone made you nervous. Usually, what followed that phrase was never something that was good.
You nod, encouraging him to go on.
“I’ve been thinking,” he repeated, “About you.. and our daughter.. and livin’ out here in the most beautiful little house with my family.. the family that I never even thought I would ever have,” his voice was soft and genuine as he spoke, the look of pure love never leaving his eyes, “And I love you. I’m able to be where I am because of you.. I’ve always had dreams of living out on a silly lil farm with silly lil sheep and horses with my perfect lil family..” you chuckled quietly as you listened to him, gazing into his eyes with just as much love, “I wouldn’t be here right now if it weren’t f’you. You make my life complete.. You’ve made my dreams come true, darlin’..” 
You stare at him with such love and adoration as he speaks, feeling your heart swell with each and every word that leaves his lips. Words couldn’t even express how much love you held in your heart for the man who stood in front of you.
“And you made my dreams come true too, Miller.. All of them..” You whispered before placing a gentle and sweet kiss on his chapped lips.
While living on a farm with his silly little sheep and silly little horses wasn’t precisely what you’ve dreamed about your entire life, being with him was; having a family with him was. And you would do absolutely anything to make him happy. He was your dream.
109 notes · View notes
starsshit · 6 days
Text
Dragons and Denial: Chapter 1 Nalu
Lucy's kingdom had been on the cusp of war long before she took her first breath. Despite being raised as both a powerful mage and a princess, she knew every breath she took was a mercy from Zeref and his demons. When the brutish neighboring kingdom of dragons offered an alliance, her father was quick to accept any conditions that their king may require, even if it meant selling his own daughter to their prince.
Lucy expected to hear more screams as she passed into the gates of Dragnof. The kingdom was known to never lose a war and the few survivors of their battles would tremble and refuse to repeat whatever occurred. Instead, she was greeted by children laughing in the streets, flapping of massive wings above her, and a strange sense of peace. The oddest thing she noted were the mixes of mages, rather than just the dragons they were feared by.  It wasn’t until she entered the castle that the sound of joy went silent, replaced by an odd, anxious sort of quiet.  Servants and knights stole glances at her as she passed, a few hiding their laughter behind their fist. She could only imagine what kind of horror awaited her.
“Keep up, blondie,” the gruff voice of the large man she was trailing behind snapped at her. She stiffened, biting back a retort and hurried after him. He didn’t seem like a noble, with piercings studded over his face and his long mess of black hair. Still, when he arrived to collect her, her father had referred to him as Lord Gajeel from Dragnof, so she knew he had to have some title. Her father wasn’t the type to give out respect unearned–or bought, to be more exact–so he had to have something to his name. Then again, her father also raised her as a lamb to slaughter since the treaty had been signed, so his sanity was still in question. “Do you humans not exercise?” He grumbled, turning to face her with a sneer. “Do you dragons not know empathy?” She demanded, crossing her arms and glaring up at him. For a moment, she regretted agreeing to take a few of her ladies in waiting with her, not wanting any of them to deal with the horrors she’d be sure to. Still, Lucy figured they’d all fare better together. Even against this.  Her keys felt heavy from their spot on her belt and for a moment she wondered how far she could run. Not far. 
The few feet she could maybe gain would only doom her kingdom. “Whiny,” was all he said, with an almost amused chuckle. “The prince and you will get along great.” At the mention of her betrothed, Lucy stiffened, feeling a chill creep its way through her chest.  She met him, once, when they were younger. They played together while the kings discussed treaties and alliances and despite how kind he seemed then and how quickly they connected, she never spoke to him again. She remembered him seeming oddly distraught at the idea of leaving and his father, King Igneel, had quickly grabbed her father to discuss something. When he left, he had knelt down to talk to the prince and Natsu left more calmly after that. She learned a few years later that the promise of her hand in marriage had been added to the terms of their alliance. Lucy spent years arguing against the engagement, refusing to speak to the prince, begging her father, but nothing freed her.
In the recent years, she tried anything to beg her father to release her, bribery, blackmail, even going as far to remind him of her late mother’s wish for her to find true love. When his eyes glazed over at the mention of Queen Layla, she told him that she had fell in love, that she had finally found the man her mother wanted her to. Instead of releasing her, as she had hoped, the king sealed her fate, promising to execute the man if he ever found him.
 Three years ago, she had received a strange letter, dropped off by a blue--oddly chipper--flying cat, who seemed as surprised as her when she opened the balcony door. It was addressed to the wrong location and the only return address was a name. Salamander.
The letter was even stranger, albeit, amusing.
The cat, Happy, urged her to write back, thinking it’d be ‘funny’ and she eventually agreed. Within a few weeks, they were writing letters daily, and despite Salamander's constant request to see her in person, she refused. Their correspondence had been one of her few sources of joy and she didn't want to risk it, couldn't once her father found out. She told Happy not to drop off any more letters and begged him to warn her penpal to keep a low profile.
Lucy suddenly stumbled over a fallen vase, nearly falling flat on her face, before Gajeel’s hand wrapped around her arm, easily pulling her back up. “Are you so lost in your head you can’t see ahead of you?” He demanded, eyebrow quirking in bemusement. 
Lucy huffed, stepping out of his grip and glaring up at the large man in front of her. “I wouldn’t expect someone like you to understand,” she hissed, shaking her head. “Ah, yes, because dragons are brutes?” “Because men aren’t sold as breeding mares,” she snapped and Gajeel blinked, something unfamiliar passing over his expression. “Oh,” “Oh?” “Don’t know what else you want me to say, blondie,” he said with a shrug. "I'm not gonna argue a fact." With that, he continued to lead her down the twisting hallways in silence.
Eventually, they came to a stop in front of two large ornate doors and he turned back towards her, opening his mouth as if to say something, before pausing for a long moment. "He wanted to see you," The man decided on, turning back to face the doors. "Hasn't since you were kids and all that." Lucy said nothing, merely watching as Gajeel pounded on the wooden doors. She briefly allowed her mind to drift to Salamander, twisting the engagement ring around her finger.  Happy had shown up before she left, begging her to take the various letters, or at the very least, hear him out. She closed the door, then window, in the cat’s face before he could risk giving her false hope, or worse, cost Salamander his life.
The door swung open and revealed a tall, annoyingly well-built, pink haired man who looked at Gajeel with the same amount of scorn Lucy had seen soldiers view traitors with. “It's too fuckin early," he groaned, running his fingers through his oddly spiked hair. “What’re ya–oh,”  Natsu paused as his eyes landed on Lucy, his nose scrunching slightly as though he was sniffing the air.
Dragons.
The prince seemed to light up, an easy grin falling over his face as he waved his hand in greeting. His tongue ran over his sharpened canines and despite herself, she had to admit he was very attractive. Her life could've turned out so much worse, but still, the turmoil inside of her refused to quiet. “Your highness,”  she murmured, bowing her head in a sign of respect. She blinked at the sound of an odd rumbling next to her and turned to see Gajeel's shoulders shaking as he laughed beside her.
“No reason to bow to the likes of him,” he explained between the bursts of mirth and she frowned, sparing a glance at the prince.  She expected to see him furious, ready to call for guards and demand Gajeel's apology. Instead, she was greeted with an annoyed expression and a glint of mischief in the prince's eyes. “He ain’t shit, lives off of his daddy's name." “Why don’t ya listen to your dad?” Natsu suggested, his grin growing as he cocked his head to the side. “Fix your face.” “Why you–” The two began arguing, seeming seconds away from a full out brawl before Lucy cleared her throat. Was she truly to live in such a backwards and behind society? “Not to interrupt this clearly meaningful conversation,” she began, ignoring Gajeel’s huff at her sarcasm. “But it was a long journey and I’d like to rest–”  She paused when she noticed Natsu stepping aside, as if to make space for her to enter his quarters.  Her cheeks heated and she turned to Gajeel helplessly, hoping that someone in this kingdom had a sense of what was good and proper.  The man–dragon– merely huffed out another strange laugh and turned to walk away. “Don’t scare her before your vows, flame brain,” he yelled over his shoulder before he disappeared, leaving her alone with the prince. 
“Ya coming in or what?” Natsu asked, looking at her as if she were the strange one. If she had any energy left within her to be angry, she would've been furious. Instead she just huffed out a sight, crossing her arm. “Really, you oughta make yourself more comfortable, don't know why you're standing in the hall like a lost dog." Lucy bristled, but said nothing and followed him into the large room.  Her eyes trailed over the mess, fighting the urge to roll her eyes at the clothes strung out on the floor.  She figured even the maids couldn’t fix the kind of chaos that resided within Natsu Dragneel.  “Ya gonna talk or,”  His voice trailed off and Lucy relished in the feeling of shaking the confidence of the infamous fire dragon for a moment. “Do we need to?” She answered, ignoring the way he winced at her harsh comment. She turned on her heel, walking over to his desk, rather than have to face the prince. Oddly, his desk seemed to be the only somewhat organized space in his room, save for a few papers and envelopes tossed carelessly onto its surface. She supposed he bever used it enough to dirty it. "It’s a political marriage, after all, not a love based one."
“So you’d rather marry a stranger?” He demanded, voice tight with anger and something that sounded far too similar to hurt. “Stay miserable for the rest of your life, purely out of your own stubbornness? Doesn't sound like a fun life to me." “It’s not meant to be,” she argued, keeping her back to him as her eyes trailed mindlessly over the envelopes on his desk. She wasn’t exactly interested in the contents but it was better than the delusions of the man behind her. “We grin and bear it for our–” Her voice cut off as she recognized one of the envelopes, or rather, the handwriting on the front. Her own. Addressed to Salamander with a poorly drawn heart next to the name. It had clearly been opened, but the pages themselves were missing and she slowly turned the envelope over in her hands. This wasn't real, he had to be okay, he had to--
“How do you have this?” Lucy’s voice didn’t sound like her own, it was too soft, too tense. It sounded how she felt, on the verge of shattering “Have what?”  She jolted, his concerned voice landing right next to her ear. How he had gotten so close to her, so quickly, without her registering it was beyond her. She merely held up the envelope, feeling her heartbeat in her throat. Natsu glanced down at it, then back at her, the silence echoing around them. He swallowed thickly, blinking.
Once. 
Twice.
Before he could blink a third time, she exploded, whirling on him with her fists raised. 
“If you hurt him, I swear–” Natsu caught her fists, his onyx eyes flashing dangerously. 
“I didn’t hurt him,--hey,” he grunted, narrowly dodging the knee that had come up to strike him. “Watch it,” he hissed, smoke billowing out of his nostrils.  “If I hurt him or killed him it’d be quite counterproductive,” “To your delusions? Happy wife, happy life?”
“Oh my–”  He dropped his grip on her wrists, taking a cautionary step back. “I wouldn’t hurt or kill your Salamnder because I personally enjoy being alive.” “I don’t follow,” Lucy’s arms crossed in front of her chest, eyes narrowing in on him. “Salamander is a dumbass, his best talent is creating trouble, how could he be a thre–” “There are better talents," Natsu grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "And no, Salamander isn't a threat to me, or vice versa, because we're the same guy." He paused, a frown creeping onto his features. "Or maybe we're each other's biggest threats? I don't know, I'm not exactly big on philosophy, but--" "You're lying," she hissed, her hands clenching back into fists and trembling at her side. She knew Salamander, she bonded with him. He was the one real thing in the web of lies and politics that had become her life.
"If ya had just heard Happy out, you'd know I'm not," he argued, crossing his own arms. At the mention of the beloved cat, she stumbled back. She could practically taste her fear, eyes darting around the room wildly. “Did you hurt him too?” “Jeez, ya got trust issues,” he grumbled, barking something in a language she didn’t quite understand. “Just hold up,” Natsu told her, a hand raised when she opened her mouth to speak.  
After a painfully long moment, she heard a familiar laugh and the blue cat flew in, a bright smile on his face.  “Natsu!” He cheered, flying in a quick circle above his head. His eyes landed on Lucy and he seemed, somehow, even more pleased. “She’s finally here?”
“Right in front of ya,” The prince responded with a rueful laugh, eyes darting back to Lucy. “I’m Salamander, right?”
“Aye sir,” The cat nodded, looking over at Lucy. “I tried to tell her but she slammed the door. And then the window.”
“I��you–”  The words seemed to catch in her throat as she felt the familiar sting of tears threaten her eyes. Natsu and Happy were beaming over at her, acting as though they had just performed the greatest prank known to man.  The one comfort she had in those past years of hell had been a lie.   “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
15 notes · View notes
yellowcry · 1 month
Text
Where's my friend the Smiley?
One by one, Pedro just seemed to abandon him It's Luisa. Of course. Everything is always her fault
Another work for Pedro ruins lives by @miracles-and-butterflies (How did I become a writer for this?? I have no idea what I'm doing for that point)
TW: implied/referenced child abuse and suicide
Bruno was the first one. No one knew what happened. There were no warning signs. One morning he just was nowhere. Disappeared in the darkness. Pedro tried his best to find him. But no matter what, it didn't help at all. Bruno wasn't here anymore. He never returned, no matter how many prayers Pedro had said.
His heart was shattered into a thousand pieces. During all his life he was nothing but a decent and caring father for his son with such a worthless gift. And that's what he got in return? Being abandoned by his own child? Who could even put this idea in his head? 
Luisa.
Of course, it's her. There had to be a reason why she didn't get a gift. She did something bad. Maybe she wanted to hurt the family and the miracle knew it. Sadly, it didn't prevent her from doing whatever she did to Bruno. But it didn't mean she would avoid a fair punishment. Pedro would make sure she didn't get away with this. As much as Pedro loved Bruno, his gift was really unimportant if you look at it with an objective view.  It was better than losing somebody else. If he took care of Luisa's behavior now, he would save so many problems. At least prevent the others from leaving Encanto behind.
He made sure Luisa knew her place since the moment she didn't get a gift. He made sure she realized that her parents would never want a giftless child. But it seemed that he hadn't done enough. Luisa managed to make Bruno leave. 
"I didn't do anything!" She insisted, hearing a dose of blame. What a liar. Acting like an innocent lamb
Pedro looked down at her, how could such a little child cause something this horrific. "I don't want to hear your excuses any longer." 
Luisa swore that she hadn't done anything. But it was obvious. She was giftless, a clear sign of being a problem. Maybe she manipulated her Tío, maybe he was so ashamed that he decided that leaving was the best option. That being homeless or dead was better than being related to her.
At least, now the rest of the family was safe. Pedro made sure Luisa realized her mistake. She didn't talk to anyone now. So it would be almost impossible for her to cause someone else to leave.
***
It didn't work. 
The second one was Dolores. Just the day she turned eighteen she had leave. And it wasn't even like with Bruno who had left most of his belongings. She took everything she could. If with his son Pedro could hope that he would return, with Dolores it was obvious. She had planned it. She planned to abandon this family. She hurt her parents, her cousins. And she hurt Pedro too. Most people would be jealous to have him as a grandfather and now she throws it away! 
What had Luisa done? Did she say something to her? Like she did with Bruno? Of course. It's always her. Why couldn't she stay out of the way and stop hurting this family? Pedro was too kind to her after Bruno had left. Now he was paying with his granddaughter. Dolores was one of the little amount of family members who weren't completely useless.
If Luisa wanted to ruin this family, she would be treated accordingly. 
Her breathing hitched at another blow. "I promise, I don't know—"
Pedro made sure the ropes were tight enough so she wouldn't break free. Luisa had enough muscles and was definitely stronger than Pedro in his seventies. Her arms were red while she struggled against the rope that dug into her skin. Maybe it would teach her a lesson. Maybe she would stop hurting this family.
***
Pedro should know better. 
It wasn't just one. Four of his family had left. Pepa and Felix took their sons and abandoned them. Just like their daughter. Just like his son. Why was everyone so ungrateful? Pedro spent years, building this family. Teaching Pepa to stop being so uselessly emotional. Not only emotions were hurtful, but hers could cause a whole hurricane. And her eldest son wasn't much better. He had to cook food for the village, not burn the kitchen each time he walked in there. 
And Antonio was so young! How would he remembers his family if he couldn't see them? He would never learn about his Abuela or the Miracle? How would he earn a gift? What if he was supposed to get the greatest gift of all?
Luisa did something. She had always done something bad. Pedro had no idea how she managed to keep up with this. Maybe they were ashamed of her, maybe she talked them into it. When Pedro wasn't looking. She seemed to barely talk with anyone these days. But he wouldn't be surprised if it was just an act. Of course, it would be an act. 
Luisa struggled less this time. She was fighting weaker and weaker with each punishment. Maybe she had learned her lesson, but he couldn't hope for that. He thought she did atter, Dolores. Pedro lost two of his kids and three grandchildren. He wouldn't bear losing someone else.
***
He did. And this time there wasn't even a slightest possibility to hope that she would return. 
How could Mirabel take her own life? How much was she ashamed of Luisa that she decided to take her own life? Luisa had already ruined Mirabel's life by making her get completely useless gift that was worth nothing. Now it was something even worse.
She begged for him to stop. After everything she did. Mirabel was dead because of her. Luisa was the one to blame. She was always the guilty one. Causing problems, forcing the family to run as far away as possible without any warnings. Was it some kind of a sick joke to her? She made almost everyone leave! And now she dared to cry after driving Mirabel to suicide! It was so sick. Completely horrifying selfishness. 
 
As time passed, Luisa didn't even deny her guilt anymore. She didn't fight back or try to defend herself. The last time she did was on the day Mirabel had died.
"I'm sorry," She whined, trembling in pain. She had to feel what she made them feel. Know how much she had hurt everyone. So much so that they ran away from Encanto.
Pedro hoped she was. It wouldn't return anybody. But maybe at least those bits of the family he had left were safe.  
17 notes · View notes
dailyunstableeve · 8 months
Text
Haunted
Chapter One
Miguel x fem!reader ❤️
Context: you're the new girl in the neighborhood, moving out from your family to this apartment, 1-928. Only knowing you've moved in to an apartment that was haunted and you're the only who can see it.
°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .
In every normal situation, when a human sees a ghost, they would freak out, scream and faint, but you're the little stronger girl, haven't faint yet.
"I am so requesting a move out," you whispered under your breath.
You're in the position where you're holding a table lamb you have, pointing at the transparent ghost body that's floating in front of you.
"Wait please don't move out," the ghost immediately denied you.
"What do you mean don't, you were a human once, aren't you also scared of ghosts?" You babbled.
"Just please don't move out, you're the first who can see me, maybe you can help me."
"Help you? Oh no no no no, I ain't helping any ghost here," you shook your head.
You planned to call the landlord for an immediate move out but in a situation like this, you are never able to find your phone or anything you truly wanted.
"Fuck!" You cursed under your breath.
"Since you can see me, if you help me to find a way to move on, then I'll be forever gone in your life," the ghost suggested.
You took a few seconds to think about it, whatever the ghost says is true because of all those movies and series you’ve watched, maybe it’s worth the shot.
"Fine," you sighed, totally giving in.
You took a few minutes to calm yourself down from the situation right now. You never remember getting told that you have some special sight to see a ghost or spirit, this one in front of you, is your first. Your family was never into ghosts or anything, they were only interested in money.
"What's your name?" You looked at the ghost, still trying to get used to it.
"My name," he paused, it seems like he's trying his best to remember, "I only remember the name Miguel."
"Miguel, okay," you nodded, "I guess we can skip the last name for now."
"What else do you remember?" You shot another question.
"I woke up at some random road, and I only remember this was my home so I came back here, but the house is empty when I returned," Miguel said, he looked around, “which is weird, I only just remember that this area is covered in purple and children play toys,” Miguel pointed at your couch.
“You had a child before?”
“I don’t know, maybe I do,” he frowned, trying his very best to remember but all it came out was just blank.
You know just by asking this ghost question isn’t going to get you anywhere so you decided to go check on the neighbors, wondering if they know anything.
You were like a news reporter, asking everywhere just hoping to be able to find at least something that’s related to Miguel. All you got was nothing but people telling you that your apartment is haunted because there was once someone who used to live there, died. So you followed the clue of someone who used to live there and died, hoping they are talking about Miguel and trying to dig more about it.
It’s been four hours since you went around asking, you were giving up until you saw an old man struggling to get to his apartment, and your kindness took over, you walked towards the old man and helped him. Once you helped him to reach his apartment, you couldn’t help it but to ask him about your apartment.
“I’m sorry to ask, but do you know the story of 1-928?” You asked.
“The 928 apartment? Oh I know the story, I was a great friend to every single one that moved to that apartment,” the old man laughed, “let me guess, you’re the new resident of it.”
“Yeah,” you nodded.
“Don’t worry about the house getting called haunted, it’s not haunted at all! Well unless you see something in there,” the old man chuckled, “I know who’s the one that died, Miguel O’Hara, poor man move in here with her daughter because of an accident that costed the woman he love,” the old man sighed then invite you in his house as he wanted to show you something.
He moved to one of his old drawers, taking out an album.
“This is the man,” he showed you a picture. What surprised you the most is the man in the photo look exactly like Miguel.
“That’s him,” you whispered.
“Well, this is his brother,” he showed you a man who happened to be Gabriel O’hara, the richest man in the world.
“Why are you helping me with all this?” you asked with suspicion, because this is the first time you met this old man and he’s willing to help you with everything.
“Like I said, all residents from 928 were my best friends, if you really see Miguel, and you are the only one who can help him to move on, and as an old friend of his, I want him to move on too.”
Maybe this old man really wants to help.
“Thank you.”
“Just helping out an old friend.”
After you got home, you told Miguel everything you learned from the old man.
“I can’t remember who he is.”
You were stunned for a second when Miguel told you he doesn’t remember.
“But that’s okay, you can know him again,” you smiled.
For the next few days, you were preparing to request a meeting with Gabriel, but knowing he’s the richest man on earth, getting in contact with him is going to be hard for you.
“Miguel get off the blankets,” you rolled your eyes because of how only his head popping out from your piles of blankets is kinda freaking you out but it’s funny at the same time.
“But it’s warm, I can feel the warmth in here.”
You brush it off with a laugh and continue your chores, at least it isn’t boring when you have someone here to talk to when you’re doing all of this work.
And you were getting used to him being here with you even you were a scary cat back then.
°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .
This might take longer to finish as it should be 😭
Next~
❤️❤️❤️❤️
43 notes · View notes
Text
Join me as I go feral about klance + Dear Arkansas Daughter by Lady Lamb at 4/5am
Ok. OKAY.
The first three lines are just:
Take a swim in the water / Take a swim in the water / Dear Arkansas Daughter
I have nothing special to say about this except that Lance and water are interconnected in my brain, unsurprisingly. I mean he pilots the blue lion so it just makes sense yk yk
You with the dark curls, you with the watercolour eyes / You who bares your teeth with every smile
This one is SO obvious but. Dark curls = Keith and watercolour eyes is Lance
Bares your teeth with every smile FEELS like Keith too. He's smiling and supposed to be friendly but is still coming off as idk like ??? Standoffish or argumentative anyway!
He says "I can always hear you sing, I wanna hear you speak to me"
This HITS. Imagining this as Keith begging Lance to just TALK to him to tell him how he FEELS because Lance is used to concealing how he feels with jokes. UGH
Skipping a line or two bc I don't have thoughts about those
I was talking at a cigarette / There's nothing left to say / But he should have been there anyway / For I didn't sing a single song, all day
This is about when Keith goes to the blade of marmora and leaves voltron ok ok. Like. Lance misses him. He misses talking to him and he doesn't know what to say when Keith isn't there, his jokes feel hollow now because he isn't there I. Am foaming at the mouth
As my love for you dies / As my love for you dies / As my love for you is steadily dying
Lance and Keith pushing down their love for each other and suppressing ("killing") it as they're separated and IDK IDK is this anything
As sharp and serious as a pistol in the eye
Something something Lance uses a gun and he is the sharpshooter and has good aim. Yeah thats all
My heart is full of swords / Full of, full of swords
This is kinda silly but it reminds me of the three of swords tarot card which has swords impaling a heart. This card also symbolises like, separation, grief, sorrow and heartbreak so!
Once again about Keith leaving to join the blade of the marmora they're both heartbroken and hurting!!!!!
Tie my hands and I knock my knees / As I kneel down, I kneel down in the sea / To the ocean floor, I will sink / Like a steel chest full of weapons
Once again !!! Water + Lance! Interconnected to me
"I will sink" makes me think he's like... giving up hope of Keith EVER coming back and they're relationship being the same again
"Like a steel chest full of weapons" this just goes back to the swords in the heart line and I think thats cool, yeah thats it
And on the spine of the tide, you will rise / Like a red, ripe, red, ripe apple
This one is embarrassingly simple but red = Keith lmao
The "red apple" (Keith) "floating on" (coming back to) "the tide" (Lance)
It feels like hope
ALSO. It reminds me of how oil floats on water and they don't ever truly combine but instead simply like.... co-exist in the same space. Idk dude I'm so tired and having so many thoughts
Take a swim in the dirty water / Dear Arkansas Daughter / Take a swim in the dirty water
Dirty water!!!! Foams at the mouth. This calls back to the start of the song but it's dirty now which links back to my previous thought of oil + water (the metaphor being keith is oil and lance is water btw)
Because water with oil in it is like dirty I guess
And the whole take a swim thing is Lance embracing Keith back into his life
Darling, child, true love of mine
Idk. True love of mine. Feels self explanatory
True love <3 they admit their feelings to each other and are happy. The End
The demons took over, and I needed to get this out of my system I would apologise but then again this is literally what this tumblr account is for so. Yeah hope you enjoyed that word vomit
26 notes · View notes