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#him into an oc after some modifications

yoonia · 5 months

Text

© Yoonia, 2016-2024. All rights reserved. — Unauthorized use and/or duplication of these works, including reposting, translating and modification in any form, is strictly prohibited | if you are under 18, please refrain from entering the restricted sections

key: angst ✵ | fluff ✿ | smut ♡ series: ongoing ✎ | hiatus ☽ | completed ✓

⇝— updated: April 24th, 2024 ⇝— fic archive 2016-2019 .｡.✰ ⇝— work in progress & writing schedule .｡.✰

𝐛𝐭𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ✩·.¸

About Time (Time Leap!au, Soulmate!au) | Jungkook x reader x Jimin (feat. ot7) | ✵ ✿ ♡ ✎ ➛ Summary | Be careful of what you wish for, because you may never know how to deal with them once it comes true. ↪ Chapter masterlist

The Bedroom Hymns (a Bluebeard tale's twist; fairytale retelling au, fairy prince!yoongi, princess!reader, soulmate!au) | ✵ ✿ ♡ ✎ ➛ Summary | Haunted by the questions about your father’s past and the dark tales that seem to follow him, the thousand mysterious doors and the secrets waiting for you to reveal, and the mysterious Prince that has been following your shadows between realms, you are off to a new adventure in the Land Far Far Away. ↪ Chapter masterlist

Blood Moon Rising (Supernatural!au, Vampire!au, Werewolves!au) | Jimin x reader (feat. ot7) | ✵ ✿ ♡ ✎ ➛ Summary | What happens when the only people you have put your trust in only repay you with betrayal? ↪ The Shifters Series masterlist

Carousel (Arranged Marriage!au, CEO!au, Heirs!au) | Min Yoongi x reader (feat. ot7) | ✵ ✿ ♡ ✓ ➛ Summary | He is the successor of his family’s business empire, and you are the female heir of yours. After the trouble his older brother had created in the past, he now must face certain requirements needed for the sake of the family's future and to save his rights of inheritance, and you become his only way out. ↪ Chapter masterlist

In Motion (Masturbation Club!au) | Jungkook x reader | ✿ ♡ ✓ ➛ Summary | The rule is simple; you can look but you can’t touch. ↪ Chapter masterlist

𝐛𝐭𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢-𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 ✩·.¸

Flux (Min Yoongi x reader x Jeon Jungkook) | Polyamorous!au | ✵ ✿ ♡ ✎ ➛ Premise | A collection of short stories about the journey of finding and learning about love, life, and trust. ↪ Chapters masterlist

Red Series (Min Yoongi) | Secrets of Pleasure | ✿ ♡ ✎ ➛ Premise | A collection of short stories between Yoongi and his lover (reader insert) which will tell a tale of their sexual adventures together. ↪ Chapters masterlist

𝐨𝐭𝟕 & 𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐬 ☽.·✩·.¸

Slow Dancing (M) - Jungkook x reader; Namjoon x reader | ✵ ✿ ♡ ✓ mini-series; soulmate!au, second chances!au ⇢ When fate has some tricks hidden in its sleeve ↪ Chapter List

28 Days (M) - Taehyung x reader; Jungkook x reader | ✵ ✿ ♡ ☽ mini-series; slice of life!au; unrequited love!au; first love!au ⇢ When you let yourself get entangled in your own little lies ↪ chapters: (under construction)

Ravished By Two (M) - Seokjin x reader x Namjoon | ✿ ♡ one-shot; werewolves!au; polyamorous!au | 5k words ⇢ Mated to your Alphas mean that you have to submit to their every need

Threads (M) - Yoongi x reader; Namjoon x reader | ✵ ✿ ♡ one-shot; slice of life!au; one-sided love!au; arranged relationship!au; 7k words ⇢ When life throws you a curve ball, leaving you with dark secrets to bury

The Agile Fox (M) - Yoongi x original character x Jungkook | ✵ ✿ ♡ one-shot; supernatural!au, werewolf!jungkook, werefox!yoongi, werefox!oc | 52k words; part of Shifter Series ⇢ Sometimes the Fates can play tricks on you

Bed & Boyfriend(s) (M) - Taehyung x reader x Yoongi x Jungkook | ✿ ♡ one-shot; pwp; Polyamorous!au; 16k words ⇢ A long weekend filled with wanton pleasure with the help of his best friends

Sweet Temptations (M) - Taehyung x reader x Jungkook | ♡ one-shot; brothel!au; male escort!au; 20k words ⇢ Welcome to House Of Lust, where your escorts will be there to provide you with every need

Ever a Never After - Jungkook x female reader; Seokjin x female reader | ✿ ♡ adaptation from Enchanted movie; strangers to lovers!au; fairy tale retelling!au, Smut ⇢ Stuck between two different realms, two different lives, and a chance to write your own happily ever after, would you take it?

𝐤𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤𝐣𝐢𝐧 ☽.·✩·.¸

Cinnamon Bliss (M) | ✵ ✿ ♡ ✓ mini-series; single father!Jin, cafe owner!reader, unrequited love!au ⇢ When you share the journey of finding the path to healing and re-finding love again ↪ Chapter List

Of Bears And Bonds (M) | ✵ ✿ ♡ ✓ trilogy/mini-series; supernatural!au, werebear!Jin, witch!reader | part of Shifter Series ⇢ When you find your past, present, and future are all linked together with your fated ↪ chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 (end)

Blurred Lines (M) | ✵ ✿ ♡ ✓ trilogy/mini-series; teacher!Jin, teacher!reader, biker!Jin ⇢ People do say that the quiet ones always keep the biggest secret ↪ chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 (end)

Mistakes and Retakes (M) | ✵ ✿ ♡ one-shot; christmas rom-com; enemy to lovers!au; Part of the Stranded for Christmas Collab; 18,5k words ⇢ When your archenemy becomes your saviour

𝐦𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢 ☽.·✩·.¸

Clair De Lune (M) | ✿ ♡ one-shot; pianist!yoongi, escort!reader; 23k words ⇢ You were ready to leave a part of your life to move on to the next, and he is willing to give you a chance to end it glamorously

Pour Some Sugar On Me (M) | ✵ ✿ ♡ one-shot; enemies to lovers!au; baker!au; baker!yoongi; baker!reader; 14k words ⇢ When he shows you how baking and taste testing can be delightfully messy

Little Do You Know (M) | ✵ ✿ ♡ one-shot; artist/music producer!yoongi; established relationship!au; 22k words ⇢ With love, comes challenge. But what do you have to do to hold on?

Bad Things (M) | ✵ ♡one-shot; brothel!au; street fighter!yoongi; sex worker/escort!reader; past lovers!au; 14k words ⇢ He always comes to you when he needs you to douse his flame, not knowing that he is keeping yours alight with his touch

Come Undone (M) | ✿ ♡ one-shot; established relationship!au, BDSM; 14k words ⇢ When your little surprise to please him backfires and he turns the tide against you instead

𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤 ☽.·✩·.¸

✎ 𝗜𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘁𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗱𝘂𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘆 01. Intertwine (M) | ✵ ✿ ♡ one-shot; slice of life!au; past lovers!au, office!au; infidelity; 12k words 02. Tidal Waves (M)| ✵ ✿ ♡ one-shot; slice of life!au; past lovers!au, office!au; infidelity

✎ 𝗦𝗽𝗼𝘁𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗱𝘀 𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘆 01. Spotless Minds (M) | ✵ ✿ ♡ one-shot; past lovers!au; new beginning; inspired by Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Minds; 36k words 02. Eternal Sunshine (M) | ✷ ✿ ♡ one-shot; past lovers!au; new beginning; epilogue for Spotless Minds; 39k words 03. Sunset Glow (coming soon)

𝐤𝐢𝐦 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧 ☽.·✩·.¸

The Stand-In (M) | ✵ ✿ ♡ one-shot & drabble series; friends to lovers!au, post divorce/failed marriage!au; expecting parents!au; 13k words ⇢ He is ready to help with your situation in more ways than one ↪ Fic Index

Once Upon An Us (M) | ✵ ✿ ♡ one-shot; past lovers!au, exes to lovers!au, christmas rom-com; 47k words ⇢ When the fairy tale ending that you had been searching for had always been there the entire time

Lust Royale (M) | ✵ ♡ one-shot; royal guard!namjoon, princess!reader, unrequited love!au; 8k words ⇢ When you cannot resist falling into his temptation

The (im)Perfect Ending (M) | ✵ ♡ one-shot; past relationship!au, infidelity; 43k words ⇢ When you are given a second chance to rewrite your own happy ending

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧 ☽.·✩·.¸

Strip! (M) | ✵ ✿ ♡ ✓trilogy/mini-series; stripper!jimin, bartender!reader; single parent!au; spin-off for Bad For You ⇢ Sometimes a little bit of fun brings colours to your hard life, but what if he is here to stay? ↪ chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 (End)

All Fervent Manner (M) | ✵ ✿ ♡ one-shot; established Relationship!au; 19k words ⇢ When you share the same secret, and neither of you could let the other know what you need the most

✎ 𝗙𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘆 01. Never Falling (M) | ✵ ✿ ♡ one-shot; enemies to lovers!au; singer!jimin; non-idol!au; assistant!reader; 21k words 02. Forever Falling (M) | ✵ ✿ ♡ one-shot; established relationship!au; singer!Jimin; non-idol!au; 30k words 03. Free Falling (M) | ✵ ✿ ♡ one-shot; established relationship!au; singer!Jimin; non-idol!au; 22k words

𝐤𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐞𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐠 ☽.·✩·.¸

White Lies (M) | ✵ ✿ ♡ ✓ mini-series; childhood friends to lovers!au, first love!au, painter!taehyung ⇢ When his secrets came in your way to bare threats in the future you were building together ↪ Chapter List

The Half-Lycan (M) | ✵ ✿ ♡ one-shot & drabble series; supernatural!au; werewolf!taehyung, human!reader; 42k words; part of��Shifter Series ⇢ The long journey of how the fated mates finally found each other ↪ drabbles: Fever // Rapture

The Forsaken (M) | ✵ ✿ ♡ one-shot; supernatural!au; siren!taehyung; mystery; horror; 22k words ⇢ When his seducing voice lures you into falling in his embrace

The Dark Room (M) | ✿ ♡ one-shot; sex club!au; gentlemen club!au; 19k words; Side Story for In Motion⇢ Welcome to Club La Rouge, where your sexual fantasies come to life

A Christmas Fix (M) | ✵ ✿ ♡ two-shot; Secret Baby!au, Second Chance!au, Strangers to Lovers!au; 55k words; Part of the Jingle All the Way collaboration ⇢ The one-night stand that changed the course of your fate, along with your stepsister's ↪ chapters: 01 | 02 (final)

𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 ☽.·✩·.¸

Bad For You (M) | ✵ ✿ ♡ one-shot; stripper!jungkook; bachelorette!au; infidelity; 11k words ⇢ His whole presence emits sin and danger ↪ Fic Index ↪ drabbles: ⇢ #1 // #2

Undressed (M) | ✵ ✿ ♡ one-shot; stripper!jungkook; bachelorette!au, infidelity; 20k words; Epilogue for Bad For You ⇢ He was the epitome of sin, yet he pulled you in that you just had to come back for more

Pay By Play (M) | ✿ ♡ one-shot; cam boy!au; Voyeurism; part of the Made With Love Project; 3k words ⇢ It is your first try to do something like this and he is making it all worth it

We Are All Dreamers [M] | ✵ ✿ ♡ one-shot; enemies to lovers!au; soulmate!au; 16k words ⇢ When he tries to rebel against the soulmate system

Boyfriend Jungkook drabble #01 | ✿mini drabble; boyfriend!Jungkook ⇢ When he wants a taste of your ice cream

Slow & Steady [M] | ✵ ✿ ♡ one-shot; painter!jungkook; 7k words ⇢ Can you resist temptation?

Show Me Something [M] | ✵ ✿ ♡ one-shot; road trip!au, friends to enemies to lovers!au; first love!au; 51k words ⇢ When the extra passenger opens the pathway to your broken past

A Touch Of Fate (M) | ✵ ✿ ♡ one-shot; enemies to lovers!au; soulmate!au; 9k words; Epilogue for We Are All Dreamers ⇢ When he shows you just how good you are together

Under The Blankets (M) | ✿ ♡ one-shot; established relationship!au, pwp smut, tattooed!Jungkook x tattooed!reader; 6k words ⇢ When neither of you can resist temptation

Mirrors: what becomes of us (M) | ✿ ♡ one-shot; friends with benefits to lovers!au, pwp smut; 8,5k words ⇢ Is it worth it to fall for someone who has never revealed the true content of his heart?

𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐮 ☽.·✩·.¸

Chance Encounter (M) | ✵ ✿ ♡ ✎ series; college!au; teacher’s aid!au ⇢ What a simple DM mishap could lead to happen ↪ Chapter List

Maps (M) | ✵ ✿ ♡ ✓ mini-series; friends to lovers!au ⇢ Naps, Christian Yu, your bed – would you ask for anything more? ↪ Chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 (final)

Take Care Of You (M) | ✿ ♡ one-shot; pwp smut; established relationship; 2k words ⇢ Helping your boyfriend to relax after long nights of working

Unravel (M) | ✿ ♡ drabble; pwp smut; established relationship ⇢ He loves how easy it is to have you unravelling under his touch

𝐤𝐢𝐦 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐛𝐢𝐧 ☽.·✩·.¸

Sweet Spot (M) | ✿ ♡ one-shot; established relationship; 6k words ⇢ When his jealousy makes him more daring than he is used to

Press Play (M) | ✿ ♡ one-shot; established relationship; 3k words ⇢ When he has an odd request for you to fulfil

What You Wanted (M) | ✿ ♡ one-shot; established relationship; 10k words ⇢ When he makes sure that your first time would be an amazing experience to share

Overdrive (M) | ✿ ♡ one-shot; musician/artist!B.I, manager!reader, smut; 13k words ⇢ When your carnal favours lead to something else

𝐯𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 ☽.·✩·.¸

✎ 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐍 (𝐤𝐰𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐤) ● Howlin’ (M) | ✵ ♡ one-shot; werewolf!au; fated mates!au; 6k words ⇢ When your responsibility to the Pack life comes between your Fated

✎ 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐜 ● Simon Says (M) | ✿ ♡ one-shot; pwp smut; established relationship; 4k words ⇢ Simon wants to play

✎ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐥 ● A Night With You | ✿ ♡ (implied) mini drabble; boyfriend!Chanyeol ⇢ A glimpse of the nights you spend with him

#misc: masterlist #writings by yoonia #bts fanfic #bts scenario #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts x reader #khh fanfic #khh scenario #khh smut #khh angst #khh fluff #khh x reader

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oh-koenig-my-koenig · 6 months

Text

(to the tune of Avril Lavigne's sk8terboi)

He was a human battering ram.

She was a recon sniper.

Can I make it any more obvious?

Headcannons - Fit for a King - König x fem!OC fanfic

Instead of making a y/n fic, I decided to create an original female character because I ususally write all of my stuff in POVs. Due to posting the chapters often right after I've written them some of the context and the characterization might not be explicit in every single piece, some of the information is only gonna get revealed down the road.

(TW: alcoholism, death, violence)

Karina Müller is almost 30 years old, she served in the Norwegian military from right after school until the death of her brother who was KIA on a mission together. She fell off the wagon after that, feeling responsible for his death and effectively being shunned by her family after that. Her pick of poison was alcohol and it got so bad that she more than once was drunk on the job which led to her getting kicked out.

The years after that she spent getting help, trying to get clean and going back to a civilian life, but the military was what she knew, so the civilian jobs didn't stick and she started to work as a mercenary, now a dry alcoholic. Which might be an issue for some contractors, but KorTac doesn't really bat an eye.

She's a compassionate person who loves to laugh, she's seen enough shit not to take any from her teammates and can stand her ground when faced with any challenge thrown her way. She's still working through some stuff, coming to terms with her past, but she has an optimistic spirit and a strong will.

Even though the Colonel seems scary at first, she learns pretty quickly that he is to be respected in training and on the battlefield, but on a personal level he's really not that bad. The 6'10'' killing machine, Austrian war criminal (insert "what murdeeer?!"-meme here) is quite an anxious person when it comes to basic human interaction.

Shouting orders at his team, stomping his enemies into the ground is more comfortable to him than just talking about mundane stuff with other people, he mostly keeps to himself (except for Horangi because that little shit would never leave him alone). And for the first time in a long time, Müller makes him wish that he could just go up to people and strike up a normal conversation like a normal person (don't we all).

König is 38 years old (we don't know his full name) and has the biggest metalhead dad vibes without actually having any children himself (his favourite band is Death, although he listens to a bunch of different ones, it's also their merch shirt Müller steals in "Are you wearing my t-shirt?").

When he started out in the military, he shaved his long metalhead hair off because that was the way to go back then, but he let it grow back when he was older and already Colonel. He has gauged ears and a plethora of tattoos all over his body because the soft pain of body modifications and working out until he almost passes out are his ways of dealing with his anxiety and stress. His body is a testament to that.

He has a huge scar on the right side of his face from when he got beaten to a pulp by his bullies at school, something he never let happen again after that (five on one was really unfair). His nose has been broken two times and sometimes his tattoos get destroyed by battle injuries, but he doesn't really care about that - or his looks in general. He's a soldier and not a model.

So the reason why he's always wearing the selfmade hood is not the scar. He prefers not to show his feelings to others, staying hidden underneath the mask for his own comfort, even if it makes him scarier also in situations where he doesn't want to be.

(CW: some nsfw headcannons ahead, talk about not wanting to have children) They're both switches, though König is leaning more on the Dom-side while Müller is a sub who likes to brat a little too much, just to see her man falter (for example when she calls him a good boy in random scene #1).

Müller is bisexual, something she discovered when serving in an all-women-taskforce of the Norwegian military (we don't really know about König's sexuality though). She decided a long time ago that she doesn't want to have children (she doesn't see herself leaving service again anytime soon and given her past, she doesn't see herself fit to become a mother), so she got her tubes tied. Which also comes in handy when a certain Colonel's favourite pasttime (well, actually second favourite) is leaving creampies inside her (no 'unexpected pregnancy' trope in this household).

König definitely eats pussy for his own pleasure, begging Müller to let him eat her out in "Sit" or losing a little friendly competition for a sexual favour in "But no funny business" (oh and he definitely steals her panties at any chance he gets). She's totally not opposed to servicing him as well, but the size of his dick makes this a whole endeavour (like seen in "Open wide, Prinzessin").

They match each other's energy pretty well, just going at it like rabbits at every chance they get, which sometimes proves to be difficult as they're sneaking around in secret.

Their arrangement is kind of a fuckbuddy/fwb-situation, they fuck hard and rough, without ever really kissing (the mask stays on), but after a while feelings start to get in the way... After all they do belong together <3

Read more at the Fit for a King - Masterlist or keep an eye out for the AO3 link - coming soon.

#könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig #konig cod #konig mw2 #könig x fmc #könig fanfiction #cod mw2 smut #könig smut #konig smut #cod smut #female oc

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tswhiisftteedr · 5 months

Note

As a request please give me some lewd Ruggie Bucchi Headcanons if you have any!! I’m starving for content!!!!! <3 <3 <3 please and thank you!!

Giggle Call ☆ Headcanon + Drabble

☆Pervy!Top!Ruggie x Yuu!Reader :

The story of how Ruggie turn poor unfortunate(fortunate?) you, into his perfect little toy~

Warnings: Mature content, Ruggie is aged up to 18+ and NCR is an actually college, public sex, manipulation, gaslighting, fingering, handjob, oral (female, male and gn receiving). Mind break? Not proofread.

Author Note: Ok this request gives me so much liberty lol. This is Ruggie with a yuu!reader, fem, male, and gn. But the actual act of sex will be gn. Anyways Hope you like it!

Note: Fem!yuu!reader wears a skirt, meanwhile male and gn wear pants. The only reason is because I have a fem!yuu oc that I made a uniform for, and I like the idea of reader wearing it. For the beginning Headcanons fem and male reader are cis, but if this gets enough post likes/or it is highly requested, I don’t mind writing another version for trans readers! Another thing, this is my first male!amab!reader work, I personally don’t think I would do masc and/or amab request just yet. This is more of a going with flow type of work. I honestly just felt like including masc!amab content, but it’s something I won’t ask a request as I am still a beginner and work with fem!afab content is easier for me. By the way a giggle call is what you call a hyena’s laught.

☆ More under the cut. ☆

It all begin when you first arrived in twisted wonderland. As you approach the dark mirror, pronouncing your name to it, a somewhat odd odeur was what Ruggie smelled from you.

The scent that came off you was definitely out of place, especially for this school. When the Mirror denounced you as a magicless human, Ruggie thought that was it for a moment. But, Ruggie had been around magiclessor low magic kids back home, and your aroma was definitely different from theirs. Yours was something he had never encountered before, out worldly he dare say!

Despite he’s usual reclined state towards anything but food, his interest was peeked, so he had made a mental note to keep an eye open for you.

(Jump to the next divider for male!reader, and the one after that for gn!reader)

Fem!Reader

He just continued to walk towards the school building, but as he momentarily grazed your side he did a step back. Sure the Pomefiore guys were the pretty type, so feminine guys weren’t foreign to this hyena. But he was a beastmen and one who trusted his sense of smell at that. His nose had told him something as he walk passed you; The fact you were defenetly a girl, no doubt about it.

Now having fully you on his radar, not something to look around for when the occasion was given, Ruggie was going to have his fun with the new pretty girl on campus.

———————————————————————

The next day he saw you brandish a shiny new uniform, with modifications to the regular clothing. Your little alterations to the articles made them ‘more you’ he thought.

You had replacing the usual pair of pants with a skirt that was a bit longer than a mid-thigh one but didn’t reach the knee. It was beautifully embroidered with a swirly thorn pattern, you also wore a pair of stockings/tights to accompany it.

Honestly, it looked good, and ‘Hey, he wasn’t the type to complain at a look of those pretty legs.’ As he casually tried to pass of his staring of your body to his friends, his mind was only focus on one thought that concern your skirt. ‘Easy access.’

He knew he wasn’t suppose to drool at the first hot chick he saw, especially one he had just first seen day prior and had never even talk to for that matter.

But ‘come on!’ What kind of reasonable beastman would not ongle as such a tasty treat like your self.

After the initial process of staring at you in the hallways and the classroom, Ruggie became conscious to the fact that he share most of his classes with you this semester. That meant he actually had the chance to get closer to you! And things only went down hill since then...

———————————————————————

The day after his ‘enlightenment’ as he put it to Leona. Ruggie had introducing himself to you, acting normal as ever, like he wasn’t just thinking foul things about you.

Quickly after being aquatinted, he made a point to be your sitting buddy in every class your shared. Getting closer after every class.

His behaviour started sweet, at least form your perspective, you were unaware of the true depravity behind the eyes of the man you had began to call your friend.

First step of his plan was to complete isolate you, so he slowly separated you from your usual friend group during lunch, making you sit with his instead. He had already done so with your shared so classes so you weren’t suspicious enough to see a red flag in such actions, ‘he just wanted some friendly attention, right?’

His secret depraved thoughts soon transform to reality. In the debut of it all, he would graze you more often, hold your hand longer when dragging you off somewhere, his hugs were tighter and his hand would travel lowered and lower down you back after each interaction.

Contact with him was now so common, that he was comfortable being more ‘handsy’.

He would smack your your ass as passed you, saying that it just his way to say hello now that you were ‘close friends.’

He would grope your boobs and play it off as a prank.

He would ‘fake bang you’ any time you happen to bend over in front of him. Making his friend groupe laugh.

———————————————————————

At some point these behaviours were completely normalized to you, but only from Ruggie, ‘he was your best friend after all and he was the only one allowed to do so!’ You would tell off anyone who tried to copy his actions towards you and he thrived in such reaction.

He was really molding you into the girl perfect his little fantasy, the type of chick that would let him do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. But that wasn’t just that by now, in his own twisted way he had fallen for the charms of your personality, not just your body. So from here on he ought to himself that you would be his girlfriend before the end of the school year!

———————————————————————

With the new found confidence from your compliance, Ruggie made it his next goal to persuade you into letting him touch you.

And not in the way he did previously, his ‘measly groping’ wasn’t anything like what he was going to do to you now….

It all started at the beginning of the second semester with this pervy hyena offering you a massage.

And ‘hey why not, you’re sure he must have done something along those lines for his lazy lion of a dorm leader.’ It’s true that Ruggie did give Leona massages from time to time, when the lion requested them. But, yours was a ‘special one’.

He would start with your neck & shoulders taking care of the knots in those areas, than your arms, and your hands.

He would then make you lie stomach down, working your upper to lower back. Moving on to your ass, under the pretext that; ‘there’s muscle in there too’ so he needed to knead it!

After that he took care of the back of your legs, then flipped you onto your back with ease. Shocking you at the display of strength.

He soon continued his ‘massage’ with the front of your thighs. His hands going higher, and higher until he reach your panties. He began to play with your panty line from under your skirt, which caused you to speak out.

“What are you doing Ruggie?!!” “Chill out, I’m just giving a massage.” He replied nonchalantly, “But this isn’t-“ “Come on don’t be such a fucking prude, I’m making you feel good aren’t I? You should definitely be thanking me, instead of berate me. So, now shut up like a good girl and let me work on the massage.”

He knew he was manipulative in that instant, but he could help but grin at the fact that you did stop protesting like he asked you to. Replacing your sounds of disapproval, by sweet gasps and moans, just for him to enjoy. Meanwhile it had came to him that he had conditioned you to accept anything he dished out, you were totally submissive to his words and actions, this was something that he loved.

He soon stop the simple fiddle of your pussy through the fabric of your panties, to pull in the fabric aside and fingering you. He giggled every time your body would jerk, he held down your legs to prevent from escaping as he started eating you messily. Oh, and you came hard. Harder than you ever by your own fingers, maybe that’s why you were so compliant with his next actions…

The pervert had begin to finger you in class, making it a game of if you can keep quiet enough to not get caught. Too bad for you, even if you were completely silent most students knew what was taking place at the back of the classroom, after all Ruggie wasn’t the only beastman in your class. And those guys all had developed smell and hearing.

He made you jerk him off at lunch in the cafeteria, hand under the table. Blow him in the unfrequented hallways, and texted you to join him in the bathroom stalls during your unshared classes, so he could fuck you!

This went on to the point that you couldn’t touch yourself without thinking about him, and you certainly couldn’t cum without his help.

He had made you so dependent on him for pleasure, you were at his neck and call, even accepting to be his girlfriend the moment he asked you halfway through the second semester. It was to late for you, your previous friends couldn’t help you anymore, looks like Ruggie did do well on his promise.

Male!Reader

He just continued to walk towards the school building, but as he momentarily grazed your side he couldn’t help but appreciate your scent. Sure he was used to guys around him, despite that, for some reason the way you smelled was so appealing to him. He felt almost bewitched at that, ‘was he and the dark mirror or are you actually magicless?’

Now having fully you on his radar, not something to look around for when the occasion was given, Ruggie was going to have his fun with the new hot guy on campus.

———————————————————————

The next day he saw you brandish a shiny new uniform, with modifications to the regular clothing. Your little alterations to the articles made them ‘more you’ he thought.

You had the penta tailored to fit you to the perfection, complimenting your figure. The pant’s bottoms were beautifully embroidered with a swirly thorn pattern, you also wore a black and white striped band around your left arm in a similar manner others would do with their dorms insignia, you made it into a bow to compensate it.

Honestly, it looked good, and ‘Hey, he wasn’t the type to complain at a look of the fashionable specimen you were.’ As he casually tried to pass of his staring of your body to his friends, his mind was only focus on one thought that concern your fitted pants. ‘He couldn’t wait to rip them of if you.’

He knew he wasn’t suppose to drool at the first hot guy he saw, especially one he had just first seen day prior and had never even talk to for that matter.

But ‘come on!’ What kind of reasonable beastman would not ongle as such a tasty treat like your self.

———————————————————————

The day after his ‘enlightenment’ as he put it to Leona. Ruggie had introducing himself to you, acting normal as ever, like he wasn’t just thinking foul things about you.

Quickly after being aquatinted, he made a point to be your sitting buddy in every class your shared. Getting closer after every class.

His behaviour started sweet, at least form your perspective, you were unaware of the true depravity behind the eyes of the man you had began to call your friend.

Contact with him was now so common, that he was comfortable being more ‘handsy’.

He would smack your your ass as passed you, saying that it just his way to say hello now that you were ‘close friends.’

He would grope your crotch and play it off as just him wanting to know ‘what his bro was packing, he’s not gay, so why are you being weird about it?’ This manipulative fucker

He would ‘fake bang you’ any time you happen to bend over in front of him. Saying that you looked like a chick from behind, so it was basically the same he told you and his friends. In all honestly it didn’t matter if your behind would be considered feminine or not, he was just spouting bullshit as excuses. But in reality he would’ve definitely fucked you this very right moment if you had given him the green light.

———————————————————————

He was really molding you into the boy perfect his little fantasy, the type of guy that would let him do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. But that wasn’t just that by now, in his own twisted way he had fallen for the charms of your personality, not just your body. So from here on he ought to himself that you would be his boyfriend before the end of the school year!

———————————————————————

With the new found confidence from your compliance, Ruggie made it his next goal to persuade you into letting him touch you.

And not in the way he did previously, his ‘measly groping’ wasn’t anything like what he was going to do to you now….

It all started at the beginning of the second semester with this pervy hyena offering you a massage.

He would start with your neck & shoulders taking care of the knots in those areas, than your arms, and your hands.

He would then make you lie stomach down, working your upper to lower back. He had made you remove your pants so he could better work the muscles. Moving on to your ass, under the pretext that; ‘there’s muscle in there too’ so he needed to knead it!

After that he took care of the back of your legs, then flipped you onto your back with ease. Shocking you at the display of strength.

He soon continued his ‘massage’ with the front of your thighs. His hands going higher, and higher until he reach your boxers. He began to rub your member from from above the fabric, which caused you to speak out.

He soon stop the simple fiddle of your dick through the fabric of your boxers, to pull in the fabric down and jerked you off. He giggled every time your body would jerk, he changed the position, holding down your legs to prevent from escaping as he started fingering your hole. Oh, and you came hard. Harder than you ever by your own hands, maybe that’s why you were so compliant with his next actions…

The pervert had begin to jerk you off in class, making it a game of if you can keep quiet enough to not get caught. Too bad for you, even if you were completely silent most students knew what was taking place at the back of the classroom, after all Ruggie wasn’t the only beastman in your class. And those guys all had developed smell and hearing.

This went on to the point that you couldn’t touch yourself without thinking about him, and you certainly couldn’t cum without his help.

He had made you so dependent on him for pleasure, you were at his neck and call, even accepting to be his boyfriend the moment he asked you halfway through the second semester. It was to late for you, your previous friends couldn’t help you anymore, looks like Ruggie did do well on his promise.

Gn!Reader

The day after the ceremony, Crowley had given you some pretty loose clothing to your janitor work in. When Ruggie saw your face as you walk on Main Street, he couldn’t lie that he found you attractive looking. No matter what you would be wearing, you would be confused for some type of model for a big brand cosmetic/skincare company, not that he necessarily had any knowledge about them, he just had ‘that kind of feeling you know?’

He just continued to walk towards the school building, but as he momentarily grazed your side he felt as was overwhelming by the sweet and alluring aroma coming off of you. Was everyone sure you were indeed magicless, ‘cuz damn, you just had put a spell on that boy!’ He even wondered if you weren’t one of those sex demons that just passed themselves off as a stranded soul in this world, what were the called again, succubus? Incubus? Whatever, all he knew was would be falsifier if said that he didn’t want to pounce on you this very right instant.

Now having fully you on his radar, not something to look around for when the occasion was given, Ruggie was going to have his fun with the new sexy thing on campus.

———————————————————————

The next day he saw you brandish a shiny new uniform, with modifications to the regular clothing. Your little alterations to the articles made them ‘more you’ he thought.

You had the pant’s tailored to fit you to the perfection, complimenting your figure. The pant’s bottoms were beautifully embroidered with a swirly thorn pattern, you also wore a black and white striped band around your left arm in a similar manner others would do with their dorms insignia, you made it into a bow to compensate it.

He knew he wasn’t suppose to drool at the first hot person he saw, especially one he had just first seen day prior and had never even talk to for that matter.

But ‘come on!’ What kind of reasonable beastman would not ongle as such a tasty treat like your self.

———————————————————————

The day after his ‘enlightenment’ as he put it to Leona. Ruggie had introducing himself to you, acting normal as ever, like he wasn’t just thinking foul things about you.

Quickly after being aquatinted, he made a point to be your sitting buddy in every class your shared. Getting closer after every class.

His behaviour started sweet, at least form your perspective, you were unaware of the true depravity behind the eyes of the man you had began to call your friend.

Contact with him was now so common, that he was comfortable being more ‘handsy’.

He would smack your your ass as passed you, saying that it just his way to say hello now that you were ‘close friends.’

He would grope your thoughts and play it off as just him wanting to you to pay attention. ‘It’s not his fault you look like you always have your head in the clouds.’ This perverted fuck.

———————————————————————

He was really molding you into the person perfect his little fantasy, the type of person that would let him do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. But that wasn’t just that by now, in his own twisted way he had fallen for the charms of your personality, not just your body. So from here on he ought to himself that you would be his partner before the end of the school year!

———————————————————————

With the new found confidence from your compliance, Ruggie made it his next goal to persuade you into letting him touch you.

And not in the way he did previously, his ‘measly groping’ wasn’t anything like what he was going to do to you now….

It all started at the beginning of the second semester with this pervy hyena offering you a massage.

He would start with your neck & shoulders taking care of the knots in those areas, than your arms, and your hands.

After that he took care of the back of your legs, then flipped you onto your back with ease. Shocking you at the display of strength.

He soon continued his ‘massage’ with the front of your thighs. His hands going higher, and higher until he reach your underwear. He began to touch your bits from above the fabric, which caused you to speak out.

He soon stop the simple fiddle of your junk through the fabric of your undies, to pull the fabric out of the way and play with you. He giggled every time your body would jerk, holding down your legs to prevent from escaping as he started fingering your hole. Oh, and you came hard. Harder than you ever by your own hands, maybe that’s why you were so compliant with his next actions…

The pervert had begin to touch you in class, making it a game of if you can keep quiet enough to not get caught. Too bad for you, even if you were completely silent most students knew what was taking place at the back of the classroom, after all Ruggie wasn’t the only beastman in your class. And those guys all had developed smell and hearing.

This went on to the point that you couldn’t touch yourself without thinking about him, and you certainly couldn’t cum without his help.

He had made you so dependent on him for pleasure, you were at his neck and call, even accepting to be his partner the moment he asked you halfway through the second semester. It was to late for you, your previous friends couldn’t help you anymore, looks like Ruggie did do well on his promise.

Sleeping with Pervy!Top!Ruggie:

Despite having quickies in bathroom stalls, Ruggie couldn’t settle his sexual frustration. He needed to fuck you, needed to take his time with you.

That’s why you were here now, splayed out naked on the hyena’s bed, waiting for him to return like he had told you.

A bit of time had passed when came back into the room, snacks and refreshments in his hands. Which whom he put his mini fridge for later.

After that was taken off, he proceeded to rip his clothes off and pounce on you. Relishing in the noises that came from your surprise self. Because no matter how many times he pursued you, it’s always a bit scary when someone would be on you in the spend of a blink.

He brought his fingers to his mouth, lubing them up, than back down, stretching your hole. Ruggie only stop fiddling with it when you came, taking his fingers out, he spat on his hand before giving his dick a few pumps. He than inserted himself into you, starting with a rough pace right off the bat, he waited long enough to have you under him so he wasn’t going to be gentle.

As he thrusted hard and fast into you, he stated playing with your exposed bits making your moans louder. And just as you were about to cum, Ruggie pulled out, making you whined at your ruined climax. He only snickered at that, than proceeded to flip you over. You were now ass up, and face pushed into the pillow by one of his hand, as the other was holding his member, positioning it at your entrance.

He swiftly pushed himself back into your warmth, pounding even harder than before, your whines and begs being muffled by the pillow. His mouvements were hieratic, fucking you out of your mind.

You both soon got closer and closer to your peek, your legs were shaking as you finally came, meanwhile Ruggie was stable as ever when he pumped his load deep inside you.

Turning you over once more, you layed on your back and let out a sigh in relief as it was finally over, you were already spent.

But that relief quickly dissipated as you felt Ruggie’s hand bending your legs, folding you into a mating press. He couldn’t help but laugh at the confused look on you face.

“What? Don’t tell me you thought it was over already? Don’t be so dumb sweet cheeks. Shishishi!”

Thanks @demonichikikomori for requesting!

©tswhiisfttedr. dn translate, or plagiarize.

Tip Me (Ko-Fi) & And support my art account @maviscarlettie

You can now commission me!

Reblogs help!!! (Request Are Open)

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bonny-kookoo · 7 months

Note

bonnyy cld be get an off duty drabble w oc admiring jk's body mods im so curious abt them🤥

Jungkook has always had his body mods ever since you've known him.

He's never told you how or why he got them- but from what you know about other people's mods, and considering how and where they're placed, you've got an idea as to what their purpose is inside his body.

The back of his neck and his spine is covered by silver metal, a little scratched from the timeframe they've been in place, but overall still in mint condition. You know he's had them for quite some time now, and you've also heard from conversations that he's had them after an 'incident' at work.

So, during his police service, he must've been involved in something that caused him to need the mods now. But, you shouldn't be nosy, right? It's his past, not yours. And he's made it clear that he doesn't really want to have anything to do with you past normal partnership for work purposes.

You tend to forget that sometimes, especially when he's nicer to you than usual.

Right now, you're poking your head around your bedroom door, when he notices you, chuckling a bit. "What's up?" He asks, and you look into the kitchen for a second, before you mumble something. "Hm?" He asks, walking closer to hear you better.

"...can I have something to snack on.?" You wonder quietly, tail tucked between your legs and ears turned downwards. It's normal- you feel bad right now, because you've both been working overtime today, and he'd asked you twice on the way home if you wanted to eat something- which you denied in those moments, thinking that it would just bother him too much.

But you're horribly hungry, stomach growling in complaint.

"Aish, I asked you, didn't I?" He sighs, running a hand through his still damp hair from the shower, before he laughs. "Come on then, I'll warm up some leftovers." He invites you, letting you follow him into the kitchen.

You sit at the table, watching him move around, kitchen light reflecting off the silver body modifications on his neck and back. The clock is ticking and the microwave buzzes while he heats up your leftover dinner from yesterday, before he turns around, catching you staring.

"You can ask, you know." He says, arms crossed in front of his upper bare body, only sweatpants covering him.

"...but I shouldn't." You answer, leaning your chin on your arms on the table. "It's yours." You say.

"I mean, yeah, they're obviously mine. But you can still ask about them." He shrugs.

"...what're they for?" You ask because of that.

"Keep me moving." He simply answers. "The spinal one-" He says, sitting down close to you at the kitchen table so you can see them better. "-connects up here, to the one on my neck." He taps the metal, and you look at them in wonder. You've never seen them up close like this. "Without them, I wouldn't be able to move anymore." He shrugs off, and you look at him as if you want to ask further- but you don't.

"Not one bit?" You ask, and he chuckles.

"Not one bit." He offers. "But I got them, and they work well. So it's no big deal."

"Do you.. is it different with them?" You ask. "Like, do you feel different?" You wonder, and he moves his shoulders a bit, thinking.

"A little." He nods. "My hands feel numb sometimes when it's cold. And I have to be careful not to break them. Won't kill me- but I'd be a breathing corpse, basically." He laughs-

but you're not finding any of it funny.

There's an odd protectiveness bubbling up in you now. Feeding you the need to really have his back now- literally, and figuratively. Because, while you'd never admit it to not overcomplicate things, or put any burden or pressure on him-

You love him.

As more than just a partner.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader

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thebottomfromhell · 4 months

Text

ONE-SHOT

Female Human (later Demon) Reader becoming Muzans lover

Ok, I will be evil with this one. This is the typical "reader/oc is yeeted i to the Mary Sue role because she is oh so special" but done my own way, which is basically destroy the promt into something more in character, so it might not be everyone's taste. Also being Muzan's part from this post.

Warnings: Manga Spoilers, Sexism, Power imbalance, Non-consented body modification (being turned into a demon), Narcissistic character, and Slight yandere behavior.

Muzan would never admit humanity has impressed him more than a fingers count of times. There have been several humans he found himself amazed with, but honestly? That only makes them less special. But the fact is still the same, when a human is capable os such a thing, it means they are worth of being more. Of being... almost perfect. Because no matter how many times he finds himself linked to human, humanity is a desease. The desease of getting tired, old, injured, weak and dead.

Not that he would ever go as far as to get rid of humans completely, what would he eat if he did? And raising them as cattle seems rather cruel, not only that but he must admit he enjoys human's products. The technology, the arts, the arquitecture... it would be a waste to get rid of it.

You were, are, impressive, not at the same level of Tamayo, but still an impressive woman he met as he was passing by as human. There was something about you, something he wanted. He couldn't ignore it, even if he did try, even if he had a hard time recognizing it. Specially because he didn't know why. With Akaza, it was his strengh. With Nakime, it was his wickedness. With Enmu, it was his... oddity. With Gyutaro, it was his hatred. With Gyokko, it was his art. With Rui, it was their resemblance. With Hantengu, it was his will and madness. With Kokushibou, it was his power and pride. For fuck's sake, he transformed Douma because of his shitty eyes! But in every case he knew exactly what he was doing and why at giving them their position in the Kizuki system.

Meanwhile, you can't compare to any of them. You aren't half as strong as most humans who called up his attention, you are sane, you are normal, average. Why are you here? In his head? Why does he let you stay near him, even when he should have killed you after switching to a new life. You met Muzan as a child, an odd one, very mature and smart for his age, but also had something you couldn't describe, but it set you off. Specially as he kept staring at you while you followed your routine.

You always made sure to show him bare minimum courtesy, he was the child of someone rich, after all. You didn't really care, until a young man came to you, he was very attractive and you did consider for a few seconds asking to meet or something. You are already an adult but haven't married yet, so people talk a lot about you, mostly condensending or nosy things. Maybe getting someone would stop the talking, as, depending on particular people, can be from annoying to hurtful. But after considering a few seconds, you decided it's not worth it, since you didn't know this man. You never wanted to come off as "desperate", that would make the rumours about you worse.

The thing is that. You didn't know this man, "Hello, Y/N." and yet he knows your name. He has a sweet voice, but something upseting from... you don't even know from what. "Excuse me, do we know each other?" You ask nerviously, and every second you look at him, he somehow manages to be more scary. There is something in the air, something... almost cursed. "We do, actually. But that doesn't matter. Tell me, dear, what do you think of your life?" He asks, but honestly? It feels that this is more to make up a conversation than to actually know about you.

You answer, lying in some details, saying some things mostly because it's correct to say it. In some aspects, you don't feel like other women, like you are not like the other ladies, hence you are also treated differently, maybe that is the reason you never got a fiance, even is it's considered unsightful that a young lady doesn't get any attention at all. Most men think you are "hard to manage", so they don't. You don't really like it but at this point you learned not to care. You also tell some truths, but not really giving so much detail. You just want to leave. There is something about this guy giving you creeps.

"I see." He chuckles a bit, and while it sounded nice, melodious even, it only made you tense up. "Honestly, I don't know what I was expecting asking such a silly question. But I guess you do have something interesting, you want to scape your life." That is not odd to find, most of his demons felt that same way. Akaza wanted to scape his family's death and lack of purpose, Kokushibou wanted to scape his weakness and sense of inferiority to his brother, Douma wanted to scape the numbness of the cult, Hantengu wanted to scape his criminal record and death sentence, Nakime wanted to scape her life as a poor wife of a gambler, even Rui wanted to scape his sickness.

You are no different. You are not special. And yet, annoyingly, he can't shake off his interest towards you. Maybe, because you are not special, he should enlist you with the others. In the best case scenario, you will join the Kizuki system. At the worst? He will get bored of you when you prove to be useless. Because, while attracked, he doesn't have the patience to stay by when there is so much to do. He can only have the best and the most useful assets by his side. Prove yourself then.

You didn't even manage to blink before you feel a potent sting of pain in your skull, the smell of blood that runs through your face makes you panic, but you can't move. The pain becomes numb as a liquid, an odd liquid, is... injected to your brain. It burns, but every pain is subdued. Then you feel cold air against your flesh as he removes his hand. "Join me, my dear. Prove that you deserve to be at my side." Everything else goes in a flash, as you become more overwhealmed and your body stretches, your skin becomes ick, your blood preassure rises. Everything becomes pain for a moment... and then nothing.

No pain, no cold, no nothing. Just hunger, hunger for more blood. For him. But humans will have to do, because you are just so hungry you can't think straight. Did you ever? Because now. It's just your hunger and him what matter. "You are doing well, Y/N. Prove yourself worth it, and I will have an special gift for you." How could you reject that?

#demon slayer #kny #upper moons #kny x reader #top reader #muzan #muzan kibutsuji #muzan x reader #female reader

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mistkisbiggestfan · 7 months

Note

Hello! this is based on an OC, but may you write about Medic with a cloned child OC? I always thought of him as a mad scientist type, so I’m sure he would’ve figured out how to do that. He basically raises this clone as his own kid, and they’d be a late teen / young adult by the time the events of TF2 happen

The OC is a girl but honestly you can make it gender neutral if you’d like!

Sorry if it’s too specific, but TYSM!

Medic & Child, Cloned reader HC

A/n: This is one of my fav reqs of all time ngl Requests are open!!

Summary: You're Medic's cloned child, headcanons. Words: 636 Request: Yeah

I like to think you’re a clone based on him, or atleast a clone made in his image. One medic is enough to create chaos and things like that, just imagine another person who's almost a 1to1 of him, pure chaos.

Your first day being alive, he took you in his arms and was like “it’s alive!” just as Heavy and Spy walked in to ask him if he wanted to go grab a beer. They were absolutely terrified, Spy just cloaked out of there having the day Scout was born in the back of his mind.

That left only Medic, you and Heavy there. Heavy was shocked and Medic just held you up looking at him; “Isn’t she so cute!!” While you looked alarmingly similar to him with his grin on your face.

Others found out like ten minutes after that and soon everyone was just looking at you with no clue of what to do.

When Ms. Pauling found out she almost died on her spot. “There’s no way Medic is suited to even have a dog, let alone a child!”

Nobody gave af, she soon came around to like you too.

Medic is 100% your father figure (That’s rather obvious) but so was Heavy, they’re like your dads.

Sniper, Engie, Demo and Soldier are like your uncles (That doesn’t include Spy because he’s def a wine aunt, and so is Ms. Pauling). While Pyro and Scout act more like your siblings.

Medic showed you the ropes and soon you were as capable of doing batshit crazy things like him. He was so proud!!

Archimedes loves you, always resting on your shoulder doing simple things like staying with you and Medic during operations on other Mercs.

When you were a less capable child everyone basically coparented, of course Heavy and Medic were like your parents the most but everyone wanted to take care of you so they followed a schedule of who has to babysit you and when.

Once you grew up to actually be independent, mercenaries were terrified to realize how similar you are to Medic, you were the same person, with slightly different looks, you even wore the same glasses he did.

When the events of the TF2 mercs splitting happened (Referencing the comics rn if someone didn’t know) you went with Medic, the change impacted you way more than it did him, you really missed everyone, they were like your family.

Once he started to work with those blue guys you were cool with it, they underestimated you but you showed them that you’re just like your fellow dad, insane.

Medic showed you all the modifications he made and you showed the modifications you did before you both laughed it off like the silliest thing one can do.

When everyone got back together you were way older than you used to be, but fortunately you remembered everything.

When Medic told you about the fact that you were a clone you were very interested and didn’t care, like at all. I mean you’re basically him, so it was more interesting than scary or sad.

He helped you in acquiring 9 souls from some suckers just like he did! (Can’t believe all mercs gave him their souls lmao)

Sometimes you operate on the Mercs when he’s somewhere else, at first they were very unwilling but soon it showed that you were just like him in this profession (which isn’t the ideal tbh)

Everyone showed you something, so you were really multiclass, leaning heavily into being another medic (shocking, I know)

Overall a 10/10 father, sure he has some loose screws but isn’t that normal? You two are the most chaotic beings even the devil can’t contain.

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cuckoo-on-a-string · 1 year

Text

Hello, Mr. Monster (Five. Sidhe)

Summary: Eros and Psyche inspired Soulmate!AU, Morpheus x female OC/reader

Masterlist The Nightmare's Interlude

Chapter Tracks: "Milk and Honey" by Delain, "Lacrymosa" by Mozart

18+/TRIGGER WARNING: Kidnapping, involuntary drug use, involuntary body modification, cutting (not self-harm), vague threat of SA/brainwashing

A/N: I LIVE!!! Thank you all for your patience. The story is jumping into a new arc!

Don't miss the bonus interlude chapter I posted! Linked above.

5: Sidhe

“Be careful on the road.”

Aisling’s ears rang with Fay’s parting words.

The fairie always treated the end of the season with a little too much gravitas, but this time she looked at Aisling like she could physically see danger growing over her. Brambles breaking through the asphalt or boulders crushing the van.

“Know something I don’t?” she’d asked.

“I know you find trouble, and trouble finds you. I know the world is trying to settle back into an old order, and it’s the hour of chaos and hungry hands. I know you’re alone, and the road is dangerous.”

Now, many hours and miles away, the conversation replayed on an endless loop in her head.

It haunted her. From the moment the words dropped from Fay’s lips, they settled around Aisling’s neck like a loadstone. They became a tale still furled in a fiddlehead, a glimpse of wyrd lurking in the road ahead, and she’d run off without a real destination in mind. Never a great plan. Even less so with this warning tossed in her lap like a dead fish. It stank of prophecy, and the age-old fight-or-flight response kicked in. There was nothing to fight, so she fled the entire concept of fate, driving in a vaguely New York direction.

A little distance helped. It gave her space to breathe. To think.

The wind combed tangles into her hair and some of the fear from her thoughts.

When she spied a rest area with lots of trees and very few guests, she pulled off the highway.

She sat in the van, cross-legged on the floor with the windows and sliding door open, letting the breeze cleanse the space. Well. All but one window open. Plastic sheeting rustled over the window the Not Deer shattered. Someday she might have money to repair it properly, but it wasn’t a priority.

There was so much to work through.

She meditated, looking inside, listening for the tidal rumble of raw intuition. The cards danced between her hands as she relaxed against the border of the unknown, trusting instinct over logic until fold, after fold, after fold she knew she had the right order. A three-card read. Quick, efficient.

No time for nuance on the road.

She turned the first card and found the Ace of Cups in the past position. The very recent past, she would guess. It practically sang the Dream King’s name. The Ace of Cups celebrated creativity, awakenings, and new feelings – new loves.

Heat crawled up her neck as the reading conjured memories in her skin. The touch of his hands. His mouth. His voice. The ash of the stars he teased to explode still drifted across her mind, sparking new life in places she’d been sure it would never grow. It made her curious. It made her wonder what else he could do if she let him. It made her wonder what she could do to him.

Forcefully shaking off the goosebumps creeping down her arms, she refocused. She wasn’t asleep. And daydreams could be dangerous. There would be more than enough time to explore all that after dark.

The Moon marked her present. It had as many meanings as the moon had phases, most of them based on changeability and shifts in course. But only one – intuition – felt right. It looked back at her through the card, acknowledging her as she sat open to it, listening and feeling, like meeting her own eyes in a mirror.

Finally, her touch drifted to the future. Her breath stuttered. The eight of swords appeared in her hand, and she set it down quickly, fumbling, like it could bite her. If paper and ink could bite, it just might. The card of prisoners. It thrummed with warnings: imprisonment, helplessness, restriction, and malice. It jarred with the other two cards, unlinked from the common thread of her choices.

Fay was right.

Something was coming for her.

The breeze nudged the eight of swords, canting it off-center on her altar cloth. She imagined she could taste the threat in the air, fate cinching tight as she shadows of the future loomed over her rising hope.

Her palm settled over her chest, following a familiar pattern around an old ache.

It couldn’t be her monster. She refused to believe it. Not after his sweetness in the dark, not after his reassurances and promises. She simply didn’t want to imagine he’d snare her, strip away her agency as easily as he plucked away her anxieties.

That choice remained hers, and she chose hope for once. It’d been too long since she had anything to believe in but herself, and the whisper of that promise was addicting.

Caw Caw!

Jolted out of her spiraling thoughts, her eyes flicked from cards, to van, to the world outside, moving between the distant highway to the overhanging trees. Eventually, they fell on the feathered thing waiting right outside the open sliding door.

A bird that wasn’t a bird.

A dream.

Her eyelashes flickered over her vision as she tried to understand what she saw. Dreams were all gone from the waking. Her eyes never lied.

Hadn’t they all been called back?

It cocked its head, looking her right in the eye. She blinked, slowly, and it caught itself, looking to the side and pecking aimlessly at the barren parking lot, like it could fool her.

Something high in her chest fluttered. She couldn’t say if it was nerves or joy. But she didn’t recognize this dream.

“Who are you?”

It froze. Looked back at her. Spitting out a pebble it had valiantly pretended to be a bug, it croaked.

It was definitely new, at least to the waking world, and that made her intolerably curious.

“I can see you.” She let the words spin out slowly, amused and patient.

If it stayed, they were having a fucking conversation, and she didn’t imagine it came all the way from the Dreaming to play make-believe with cracked fragments of asphalt.

“Uh.” It cleared its throat. Not all dreams could speak, but the voice suited him, and she was glad they wouldn’t need to play charades to understand each other. Black feathers puffed up with half-raised wings as it hunted for the right thing to say. “I’m Matthew. Are you – are you okay?”

She glanced down at the cards, then back at the faux raven. Starting a new relationship with a lie felt wrong, but she couldn’t explain the intimate dread and trust she felt for the bird’s maker in that moment.

“Mostly. Maybe. I don’t know you. Are you… new? What are you doing here?”

She wasn’t accusing it of anything. Her worry for herself redirected into concern for the little creature risking her monster’s wrath. She didn’t want anyone getting hurt because of her. A trite desire, but a desperate need a fleet of childhood therapists hadn’t managed to shake.

The dream ducked, looking side-to-side for eavesdroppers, and hopped just a little closer. She leaned over her cards, closing the distance, humoring its covert antics. It must not be very familiar with the waking world if it thought strangers who saw a woman talking to a bird would see anything but a hippie on a bad trip.

With a flapping burst, he landed on the edge of the van’s floor.

“The boss sent me,” he said, still glancing around warily. “You know. Dream. Your… whatever the two of you are.”

A fair description, really. ‘Soulmates’ was too much. They weren’t exactly friends, and lovers sent uncomfortable heat rushing into her face.

Let the dream thing be confused. That made two of them.

“So, er, what’re you doing?” He twitched to study the cards with one beady eye, and she caught a glimpse of swords reflected in the convex mirror of his gaze.

She swept up the spread, folding it into a fresh shuffle, like she could tuck away the danger before it infected her new little friend.

“Reading.”

“Ever heard of books?”

Oh, so the little dream was actually a little shit? That worked. As a little shit herself, she approved of scamps on principle. Even if they insulted her talents.

“Not that kind of reading.”

The dream scoffed. “Those things really work?”

Funny, such cynicism coming from a talking bird. Seemed like bad manners to call him on it, though, so she shrugged. “Depends on what you’re trying to do with them.”

“Tell the future?”

All too well. “Sometimes.”

That caught him off balance, and he physically shifted from foot to foot, nails tapping on the floor as he found it again. She took pity on him.

“Why did your boss send you?”

“Just, you know, to keep an eye on things.”

She raised her eyebrows, easily folding the cards into new configurations without looking down, and the dream cleared his throat.

“Can’t really speak for the boss and all, but it’s a dangerous world out here, and he thinks too much about that. Sometimes. I’m guessing.”

The cards felt right, and she let them settle into a neat stack in one palm, waiting to be cut and dealt.

“Are you spying on me, Matthew?”

He croaked in naked offense. Or because she’d caught him out. “No.”

“Babysitting then.”

“I wouldn’t put it that way.”

Setting the deck on the altar cloth, she propped her chin on her fist. elbow balanced on her knee, and stared the bird down.

“I might.”

Sighing so hard his feathered shoulders rose and fell, the bird looked down, muttering things under his breath she pretended not to hear.

“Have you ever had your fortune read?”

His attention snapped back to her, picking up the opportunity for mutual distraction.

“No. Do dreams have fortunes?”

“I assume so.” Since he didn’t have fingers, she dealt for him. Another simple three-card spread. She didn’t have energy for much else after an evening of drinking, a night of wildly vivid dreams, and the shock of her own reading. “I don’t see why you wouldn’t.”

“But you’ve done this before. For things like me.”

“Oh, yes.” She thought of long nights at the festival when she’d been too young to drink, sitting in the dark with dreams and nightmares as they came up with their own fun. She remembered the first time she’d found The Lovers in Fin’s fortune and how she’d hounded him for weeks after. “Many times.”

Less than a day and their absence itched like a phantom limb. So stupid. Months apart without problem, and now she felt entitled to mope after a few hours.

She hoped they were okay.

She hoped she’d be okay.

Matthew puzzled over his three cards, his claws sinking into the loose weave along the edge of the altar cloth as he inched closer. She’d turned all three over in one fell swoop because she wasn’t in the mood for dramatics, and sometimes fortunes were easier to explain as a whole.

The dream’s, however, didn’t make much sense at all.

Death. Two of Swords. Three of Cups.

What the fuck.

He seemed particularly interested in the first card, and she began her usual spiel. “Death isn’t always death. It can mean and end to a phase, transformation…”

“Oh, it means death,” the raven interrupted. “For sure. I died, like really recently. Then I became -” He flapped his wings, sending the cards askew. “This.”

Until recently, Aisling thought she knew an awful lot about dreams and nightmares. She thought herself an expert. But she had no idea a dream could be anything before it was, well, a dream. And Morpheus had power over the dead? More news. Less welcome. The hair along the back of her neck pricked up, and she rushed on with the reading – something simple, something she could make sense of.

“Well…” She straightened the card. “This represents your past.”

The raven bobbed, a bird-like motion attempting to imitate a human nod. “So far so accurate.” He gently pecked the second card, pushing it even further out of line. He and his fortune defied order. “What does this one mean?”

She didn’t bother straightening it. The illusion of control wouldn’t last. “Two of Swords. Means you find balance in opposing forces. You have a tendency to repeat your mistakes.” Struggling to hold down a blooming smirk, she added, "And you're talkative."

“Talkative? Psh. Does that sound like me?”

“I don’t know.” It absolutely did sound like him. “But you do seem like the type to make the same mistakes.”

“Rude.”

“Blame the cards.”

He croaked, probably cursing her out in bird.

“Sure. So, what about this last one? My future, right?”

The Three of Cups. “Good luck and abundance. Kindness and pleasure. All the good things, usually after solving a problem. Have any problems, Matthew?”

“Plenty.” He shook his head and swayed between feet, warming to the subject.

Once upon a time, tarot readers served as talk therapists. She had a feeling Matthew would make her a historical reenactor.

“You wouldn’t believe what’s happened in the past few days.” The bird gossiped like an old crow. But that was good. No one told her anything, and this would be a nice change of pace, so she settled in to listen, happy to let the little dream spin her a yarn. “There was this woman – I guess that’s not too strange – but anyway, there was a ruby, and this man tried to change the world, but the boss stopped him, and we went to Hell before that. And I’d just met the boss, and that Constantine woman –”

Wait.

“Constantine?” She abandoned her relaxed position, leaning in to question the bird. “You’ve met Constantine?”

“You mean you’ve met her, too? Small world, right?” Matthew cleared his throat, cawing.

“She’s an old friend. She… warned me…”

Of course. That was how Johanna knew her monster was back on the scene. But she didn’t understand what her monster might want with the occultist. Was it her fault? Was it coincidence? Not that those happened very often, but a girl could hope.

“How did you meet Constantine?” Fuck. She should probably text her back, just to make sure she was still alive. “Is she alright?”

“Oh, she’s fine.” He croaked again. “Promise. Anyway…”

A redirection and a half right there.

“Are you not supposed to tell me?”

“Honestly?” He fluttered, spreading his wings like an open-armed shrug. “I have no idea. I’ve never done something like this before. I’ve only been a raven for, like, a week. I used to have rent, and a job, and fingers. If you’re looking for answers, I’m really not the bird to ask.”

Of course. Answers never came easily. She had to work for them, earn them like minimum wage – enough to keep her on the cusp of a breakdown without quitting entirely.

“I don’t suppose you could point me towards the right bird?”

“Can’t you just, you know, ask the boss?”

She glanced down, brushing a wrinkle out of the altar cloth where the dream and the breeze had disturbed it.

“I don’t know.”

Silence sat between them like a wriggling slug. Ugly, awkward. Neither wanted to touch it as it grew. She had a whole life to explain, and as a dream, he understood things she’d never grasp. Neither knew what to tell the other, or what might get the other in trouble with the elephant in the room.

The longer the silence grew, the more she wondered why her monster sent a minder. Maybe he’d foreseen the threat in her cards. Or maybe he wanted to slowly exert control over her waking life until he held perfect sway over her hours in any world. A bloodless war with an easy victory.

No. She physically shook the thought away.

No, she wouldn’t think that. Nope.

Maybe he was… concerned. She didn’t know if he felt fear, but if he did, he might have the usual long-distance relationship woes. Anything could happen when they weren’t together, and how would he even know until she failed to appear in a dream?

She liked that idea better, the myth of the anxious boyfriend who texted a little too often in an effort to feel closer across the borders he couldn’t erase, so she chose to believe it.

“Can you tell me about him?” she asked. “Your boss?”

“Listen, lady –”

“Aisling.”

“Right.” He softened, just a touch, and his empathy shone through their mutual frustration. “Aisling. I’m new new, if you catch my drift. I know about as much as you do.” Twitching to peer around the inside of her van, he strung together ideas until he had a mouthful of sentences to trade. “He’s a lot, but I’ve seen him be kind when he didn’t have to be. He’s scary powerful, but even when he wasn’t, he was proud. He’s a king, I guess. More than that, but that’s what I know.”

When he wasn’t powerful? She couldn’t imagine him as anything else. Fuck, did she want to ask, but she didn’t want to get the bird in trouble.

“I’ll try…” She swallowed around her misgivings. “Asking him sometime.”

“If it helps,” the dream bounced two steps closer, “I think he’d like that.”

She was out of things to pick at, and her smile fluttered awkwardly through her emotional kaleidoscope.

“You hungry? I’m starving.” Creeping around the bird and the spread cards, she escaped the van. “I need to wash up, and I’ll see if the vending machines are shit.”

“I never turn down junk food,” Matthew said, suddenly and deeply serious. “I miss human food. Rats aren’t bad – when you’re a raven – but I’d murder for a basket of fries.”

“Chips do?”

“You’re a saint.”

Patting her pocket to check for her wallet, she started the hike across the empty parking spaces towards the rest area. “And you have low standards, pheasant.”

“Raven!” he shouted after her, but she ignored him, hands in her pockets as she swaggered away.

The women’s was blissfully empty.

She had lots of time to splash cold water on her face and stare into the mirror. She let the water run, listening to the gathering echoes trickle and crash around the tiled space. Wasteful. She didn’t care.

She needed the noise, the wordless crush on her senses keeping her grounded as the warning, the reading, and the raven cycled through her thoughts.

And beneath all that, a girlish curiosity she struggled to accept.

Her monster played her well. She found herself wanting to fall asleep just so she could dream of him again, to see if he’d answer questions, if he’d touch her, if he’d let her touch him back.

But she didn’t quite trust it. Things only went well when they were about to go very, very badly, and until she knew which direction danger came from, she’d stay on guard. Hopeful or otherwise.

She drew her knuckle over her upper lip, thinking, and dry skin snagged. It wasn’t painful, but she couldn’t help comparing the texture to the palm she’d studied in the Dreaming, and an uncomfortable sense of her mortality prickled through her thoughts. Like the way people noticed their tongues and pooling saliva after someone pointed them out.

Something as simple as the weather damaged her. Air turned too humid or too arid made her flesh crack and peel.

She thought of the silken hands ghosting through her dreams, untouched by eons of labor, and her rough, human finger passed back over her mouth. How could she compare to an Endless? She made a poor match, and she knew it. Too weak. Too fragile. Too young, even. And age wouldn’t make her any worthier.

How could he stand to touch her when she’d crumble so easily?

She squeezed the edge of the sink, feeling too much of herself.

It wasn't fair to assume she knew his thoughts. It wasn't fair to assume he knew hers. But the ugly feeling to too many - varied - doubts curdled in her stomach, and she wondered if she'd ever have the strength to voice these kinds of insecurities.

A pity party would just make her more disgusted with herself, and she shoved away from the sink, pacing over the dirty tile, down the row of stalls and sinks.

She needed to calm down and get the raven a snack. No hysterics. No blubbering. She could contain herself, and everyone would be fine.

She looked up, face to face with her own reflection again.

Had that mirror always been there? Intuition prickled under her thoughts, drawing her attention to the details she’d failed to notice when she entered.

She counted the sinks. Seven. Seven sinks with matching mirrors and one long looking glass at the end of the line, tall and wide as a person, a surprisingly thoughtful investment in the utilitarian rest stop.

It wasn’t the strangest thing she’d seen, but she couldn’t recall the blur of motion her reflection should’ve made in her periphery when she marched in. Not the biggest thing. Nothing too alarming. Not even out of the ordinary really. But traps never were.

Fairy circles disappeared in tall grass and fallen leaves. Helpful goods and little treasures always appeared just where someone might’ve dropped them. The mirror was a little too clean compared to the others. Maybe it just didn't get splashed with soap and water from the sinks like the rest, but she wasn’t willing to risk it.

She didn’t like that mirror.

It rubbed her the wrong way, and she started moving towards the exit before she finished her thought.

One, two, three steps. Rubber soles squeaking on cement painted green as she moved towards her world of sunlight and dreams and rest stop vending machine snacks.

The long fluorescent light closest to the exit blinked. She stopped, and it went out. The next light buzzed, popped, and sparked as it died, and she took a step back.

She couldn't see anything approaching, but fuck if she didn't know her horror movies, and something was playing with her.

The third light winked out like a snuffed candle. Backing up, refusing to look away, just in case, she tried to stay out of the growing shadows. It was close to noon. Why did it feel so dark?

The fourth light. The fifth.

By the time the seventh flickered and died, she'd gone to the far end of the sinks, and as her hand pressed back against cool glass, she realized it wasn't a horror movie.

It was just another trap.

She made it all of one step away before long, wisened fingers coated in crumbling moss seized her upper arms and yanked.

The mirror dragged over her skin like mercury taffy, sticky with an aftertaste of poison. Shiny and wrong beyond her powers of description, it clung to her eyelashes and stuck to her skin as the hand in her hair dragged her through, away, and back – back - back into darkness. She struggled, writhing and shouting as her nails pried at the offending grip. But her fingers didn’t meet skin. Bark and lichen flaked off, crumbling over her cheeks as the gnarled spriggan hissed over her.

“Stay still, little prize. Wandering soulmate. Stay still!” It had a shrill, groaning voice. Wind shrieking in the creaking trees. Rot and new life in the same breath, rich with the age of soil. “Take you down. Take you back. Make you a pretty, pretty bride!”

Aisling did not stay still. She snarled, trying to escape through the light ahead, but the spriggan took her by the jaw and hauled her away into the crushing dark. It lunged headfirst into a tunnel too small to really fit them and chittered away, grinding its captive against the wall as it went.

Choking, trying to keep the fae from popping her head off her spine, she kicked along, catching breaths as she could. The spriggan’s many free hands pulled them along, and each handhold pulled earth loose from the sides. It fell in Aisling’s face, clogging her nose and eyes. Little beetles and worms fell, too.

Roots stinking of grave dirt caught in her hair, scratched her skin, but the grip on her neck locked her screams in her chest.

Her heart thundered.

Fingernails snapped as she tried protecting her face from the unforgiving path, still wrestling against the spriggan’s hold. Tears of shock and pain leaked out, mixing into mud over her cheeks. Her thoughts faded under the onslaught, melting into a tumble of sensation and abject horror.

They moved faster than they should. Magic warped the natural world and tugged them through adjoining planes. Aisling lost all track of up, down, or the way back to the mirror. The roots grew with their progress, and the spriggan cackled, so wildly pleased it didn’t notice how the fragile human in its grip struggled to breathe.

The world flipped, and she landed hard on a dirt floor, half-pinned under her kidnapper's bulk. Still holding her by the neck, the unseelie tugged her through a growing crowd of things with claws, wings, and half-grown faces, moving towards something she couldn't see. Black bars threatened the edges of her uncanny vision, and she grasped after her fading rage as her legs spasmed, tangling in the spriggan's trailing cloak. Terror choked her as much as the grip on her throat.

Oh, hell.

Matthew was still waiting for her to come back with a bag of chips.

Fuck.

Losing control, losing consciousness, she realized: she really was going to die this time.

Maybe that was better than whatever the unseelie planned, but she didn't want it. She wanted to struggle a little longer, find a way to steal a kiss from her masked monster, maybe. Sit in the sun. Let Constantine know the occultist hadn't lost another friend.

'You are killing our prize, spriggan."

Dropped, she crashed face-first into the dirt, coughing more than breathing as her ears rang. The whole scene felt a step removed, like she was wandering a dream or watching through fog. But that wasn't right. Magic bitter as wormwood coated her throat, and she curled into herself, feigning a fetal position as she reached for the long, iron nail hidden in the sole of her shoe. Her broken nails grated over the head, the blood leaving the metal slick as she tried to tug it free. Heavy feet approached - goblin guards ready to haul her off again.

She wouldn't roll over that easy.

The nail came free just as the bigger of the two guards reached for her, and she stabbed it in his hand. Green blood spattered over the dirt, and the beast howled in anguish. As it fell back, the other lunged, the nearby crowd taking notice.

Iron made friends of all fae. Even the natural enemies in the unseelie court. Like she'd shouted "Fire!" in a crowded theater, everyone had two reactions: run, or put it out.

Stabbing and waving her poisonous weapon, she whirled in a circle, looking for an escape, a passage, light, anything. But everywhere she glanced, she found more eyes and bared teeth.

They mobbed her. Many hands took her arm, grabbed her hair by the roots, and clambered onto her back. More and more joined the fray until they had her spread prone. A redcap took the nail with a long pair of silver tongs, nearly tearing the skin off one of her fingers to break her grip, and darted away, eager to separate weapon and wielder.

"Get its mouth open."

Clawed fingers pushed between her lips. They forced her jaw wide and slid filthy flesh, scales, and fur past her teeth, cutting into her gums, cheeks, tongue. Heat pricked in her eyes at the helpless pain as a tall unseelie with hair like moonlight over pond scum approached with a stoppered amber bottle.

Screaming, twisting, she tried again to save herself. Maybe, worlds away, the dream bird would hear. Or his master. Johanna, Fin, anyone. But the fae uncorked the bottle, and he poured it neatly into her open mouth.

"Let it swallow."

The hands all disappeared from her face, but they kept her anchored to the floor, prepared for another fit, another hidden weapon. She reflexively swallowed a mouthful of blood and potion to keep from choking, coughing desperately to clear the drops she'd aspirated.

Salt, iron, and elder berries.

“Gently now.” Taloned fingers massaged her throat, ensuring the draught went down. “Isn’t this better?”

She groaned through clenched teeth, pushing against the poisonous lethargy freezing her from the inside out, against the forbidding chill stripping away her agency but not her awareness. Inch by inch, she lost the war, and hand by hand the creatures restraining her let go.

The potion didn’t put her to sleep. She had no opportunity to escape into dreams. It only allowed breath and tears as she turned into a limp rag doll for the unseelie to manipulate like the hollow, powerless thing they believed all humans to be. They didn't need her to rest. They only needed her to be quiet.

Satisfied, the tall unseelie nodded to someone she couldn't turn her head to see. "Prepare it."

They carried her into more tunnels, broader than before, more than wide enough for them to march through without scraping the sides. A team of monsters handled her, murmuring ideas and instructions as they moved into a room echoing with running spring water.

Roots tangled overhead, and she watched them pass like waves, imagining they were the ones really moving as the unseelie court swallowed her up.

The terror swallowed her, too.

Trapped in her own body, she reached for disassociation as hooked claws and stone knives sawed through her clothes. Oblivion, however, floated out of reach as panic chained her to the bare stone they laid her over, left her drowning in every prod and poke as her handlers discussed how to improve on the fragile human flesh she hated a few minutes ago. She'd do anything to keep it.

They bared her to the frigid air, and she couldn't even shiver. Couldn't shout, or swear, or save herself.

The spring water was bright cold. Lights popped in her eyes as the first splash washed over her belly. Chill translated into pain, something too sharp to be liquid, even though she felt it rolling down her sides. Her captors cleaned her, scrubbing and muttering and pulling her hair as they combed it out. Her discomfort and fear simply didn't matter in a place where she had no voice. No choice. They tutted over her scars - a lifetime of chasing nightmares and living on the road patterned in bites, slices, and other imperfections.

"These are old," one unseelie muttered, tracing a fingertip rough as gravel along the Not Deer's old fang marks in her shoulder. "I can only smooth away fresh."

"Then make them fresh," another suggested. "Nothing else for it."

They took a knife to her, skinning her history by inches, peeling stories, tearing fascia, and baring muscle. The blade cut out the imperfections, erasing the glossy moon on her knee where she tripped on the playground as a child. It erased every line and mark loved ones would use to identify her body, leaving her naked and new in strange and terrible ways.

She watched them throw pieces of her into the corner. Hiding at the edge of the dim light, a spider the size of a small dog plucked them up like table scraps, jaws clicking just above the wet sound of the knife.

Butchered alive, her mind filled with static, rattling with captive screams and pleas. If she lived, she would not escape unscathed. This was killing something. This was changing her in ways that couldn't be undone, and she didn't want it. Someone had to make them stop before she couldn't recognize herself.

Warm blood soothed her goosebumps, and one of the voices sighed as her skin regrew.

"We'll have to wash it again."

More freezing water. More pain. She kept still as they worked, and her sanity squealed like glass under pressure. On the verge of shattering.

One began spreading a smooth, white cream up her arm, working it into the new skin. When the unseelie found Aisling watching, it smiled. "Ground pearls and unicorn horn, so you'll glow for the Dream King."

It explained like she'd be happy, like she wanted to be a pretty bride delivered in chains. If her stomach was still under her control, she would've thrown up.

Magical ingredients like anything off a unicorn would not come off in the next bath. More permanent changes worked into her flesh for her monster's sake. She would be more beautiful and less herself.

What she wouldn't give to spit in the unseelie's face. Or curse her monster's name. Anything. Instead, they worked the potion from head to toe, and the fuckers looked damned pleased with their results, assuming her gratitude as their rightful due.

Dozens of spiders crept from the corners, and the unseelie set to work on her hair and face as a thousand little legs tickled over her limp body. She wasn't wildly arachnophobic, but she'd jump and shout if a spider crawled up her arm. Now countless spiders wandered her naked body, and she couldn't shake them off. Instinct demanded she try, but she was as helpless under the spiders as she was under the knife. After a few moments of blind horror, she realized they were moving in patterns, leaving lines of silk they built into a gauze-lace dress over the next hour. She closed her eyes, desperate for even that much of an escape, and the unseelie painted her lids and lips to their satisfaction. Their concoctions smelled like roses and mercury.

When the spiders finished, the unseelie stepped back and sighed.

"Ready."

A troop of gnomes carrying some kind of box rushed in, and the unseelie handlers pulled back the box's front curtain, revealing something between an animal carrier and a royal litter.

"It's time to deliver you to the Dreaming, little bride."

They packed her inside, careful not to ruin their good work, and the curtain fell. She counted the walls. Seven. All the same soft white fabric shot through with silver threads. A pretty box for a pretty bride.

And her first hint of privacy. Alone, without unwanted hands, spider legs, and the sight of her own blood on the floor to distract her, her thoughts gathered behind the scrim of dread. She felt her heart beating in her chest, not just the hollow echo in her ribs. Her fingers tingled, begging to move, and one curled as the box rose, swaying on low shoulders down the labyrinthine tunnels of the unseelie court. It wasn't enough to save herself, but it was more than she had an hour ago.

She didn't witness the journey. She measured the time in twitching muscles and waking limbs, counting breaths instead of minutes. They moved between worlds, but all she cared about was the distance between her consciousness and any control over her hands. She wanted to pull open the curtained wall, and slowly, slowly she pushed her hand towards the edge of the screened box. A lifetime measured in millimeters. And just when her nails scratched the fabric, the box shifted, and she rolled back to her original position. Foiled by gravity. Of all damn things. A laugh brushed with madness fluttered around in her chest, caught like a bug in a net, and she wondered what kind of potion would give it life and get it out. She needed it exorcised. If she started laughing, she'd start crying, too.

The box must be enchanted, because she didn't hear anything outside it. The unseelie made lots of noise, and if they brought her to the Dreaming in any kind of official capacity, they'd have to announce themselves. She heard fuck all. She hadn't even heard the gnomes' feet marching towards her doom. Her soft prison kept her safe and stupid as they took her away.

When the front curtain pulled back, all she knew was she was somewhere else, somewhere with light and color, without the wormy, wet smell of the underground court. Two unseelie women reached inside, taking her wilting arms and guiding her to rise much more elegantly than she could've managed on her own. She was surprised her legs worked at all, but they must've timed this carefully.

She still wanted to bite them and run. But when she couldn't really keep on her feet without their support, that was impossible. She could watch. She could wait. She still didn't have a choice.

A weak little bride who couldn't fight back but didn't lounge like a slug in her cage - a lovely, tidy gift.

The unseelie with the pond scum hair swept up, taking her hand as the two attendants stepped back. She wanted to bite him most of all, and almost like he could sense her plans to draw blood - fuck the cost - he took her by the chin and faced her towards something much worse.

They stood at the foot of an impossible staircase in a room too grand for a ceiling. A cosmos moved overhead, catching the graceful statues along the columns between daylight and starlight. The steps curled through the air to the foot of a throne, a seat for a king, set above the receiving hall where lesser creatures stood and begged. Sunlight cut into dazzling colors through arcing stained glass windows backlit the monarch's place, on high. Beautiful. Breath-taking.

Yet it was the king's face that froze her heart.

She knew many things about Dream of the Endless. The King of Dreams and Nightmares. Lord Morpheus. Since she was a child, she'd been told he was cold and capricious, particularly with his lovers. That he was possessive and vengeful. If he was a good king to one he was an awful tyrant to someone else.

He was dangerous.

She knew he touched her gently and had a voice darker and deeper than the spaces between the stars, but she hadn't known until she stood a prisoner at his feet that she knew his face.

When she saw the beautiful entity trapped in the dead wizard's basement, she knew he was powerful. She freed him anyway. Her intuition led her to him, and she gave him exactly what he needed.

Her chest filled with lead. Heavy. Crushing. Pulling her down in the unseelie's grip. His hand tightened on her arm, and he refused to release her jaw, forcing her head back so the Dream King could see the fae's good work.

The Endless looked down on them all, starry eyes burning through her cobweb dress. Terrible and aloof.

Feeling drowned her reason, and she picked fragments of thought out of the swamp with shaking hands.

Why?

Why not show his face when she'd already seen it? It didn't make sense if he'd been honest with her. Was he that hungry for a little more power in their dynamic? Had he played a game, amusing himself with the dumb little mortal wyrd had already trapped in his name?

The unseelie, she realized, was speaking. He'd probably been talking since before they pulled her out of the gossamer prison.

"...one of our own. We've brought it - her - to atone for that one's error and ensured she is as fair and flawless as a mortal might be made. We cannot undo the sins of the first, but we have made a better gift of her in the end."

The creature made her humanity something fetid. She was not even as good as a dog, because her free will pushed her to snap back. But she'd been made fair, and what else could a mighty Endless desire from such a lowly thing, marked or not?

And Morpheus listened. He sat still as stone and let the fae hold her up for his inspection. She thought very carefully of every promise he'd ever made, and in this new light, she quickly found the gaps in his word.

She'd been such a fool to trust him.

A deep breath lifted her shoulders, the biggest voluntary motion she'd enjoyed since they drugged her, but she struggled to breathe. The air just wouldn't stick. Fuck. Fuck it hurt.

What an idiot.

What a romantic little idiot who had every warning and swallowed the poison anyway. It was written clearly on the label, but it looked right and it felt right so she ignored her mind and followed her gut, and look what that earned her. Belly pain and tears. They rolled hot and ugly down her face, creeping over the unseelie's hand, sinking into his skin.

He tutted. Releasing her arm, he reached into umber robes, confident in his hold on her face. Her jaw ached under the pressure.

"We understand you prefer... willing partners." The unseelie pulled out a white and purple flower for the king to see, and her blood ran cold.

She thought she'd been heartbroken before. She thought she'd been frightened. This was worse than anything she could've imagined, and she finally remembered to struggle. Sinking her nails into the creature's wrist, she tried to pull his hand off her face, but his hold was sturdier than the roots of a centuries old oak. Chances were, she'd drop the second he released her, but she'd rather eat pavement than be anywhere near the simple pansy flower.

"Love-in-idleness will woo her to your hand in a heartbeat."

It really would, too. A few drops of its nectar in her eyes, and she'd forget she was anything other than madly in love with the first face she saw. Her power to consent would evaporate as the spell took hold, and she'd be her monster's happy little fool for the rest of her life.

"No." Her voice joined the fight, and breathless as it sounded, it still carried through the chamber. Her monster must hear it, up on his throne, watching someone else manage the breaking of his new pet on his behalf.

She'd curse him with this. He'd hear her denial whenever he reached for her. She'd infect him with it, let it creep under his skin until he couldn't meet his own eyes in the mirror. Maybe. Hopefully. If he ever cared the way he said he did.

She chanted her refusals through grit teeth as the unseelie lifted the flower. As much as she wanted to hurt Morpheus, her fear drove her actions. She begged, pleaded, using every scrap of her meager strength to just get away.

"Stop. Don't. No." When did her voice become so small? "Please don't." Panicking, scrambling to escape the unseelie and his curse, she fixed her eyes on the blossom's purple streaks. Folklore said it used to be pure white until Cupid shot it with one of his arrows. She'd be the opposite. It would bleed her mind white, a placid death in life.

"Stop."

Her words. His voice.

The command froze the scene. Every unseelie. Every mote of dust hanging in multi-color sunbeams. The hand on her face went from oak to rock, and she trembled, fighting to breathe as she dared glancing away from the damned flower to the entity on the throne. Her lead heart forgot how to beat.

Dream of the Endless glared down, hands curled into fists. Had his eyes always been so bright? Fury burned like the sun, a cutting light sweeping across the gathering, wrathful and inescapable as the end of day, as the coming of dreams. They dazzled her through the scrim of tears, and she teetered on the cusp of hope.

The unseelie, after several long, painful moments, cleared his throat. "Lord?"

"Do you think it a challenge for me to find any sleeping mortal, mauled by your kind or whole?" His voice rumbled with the threat of an earthquake. Or a flood. Something old and deep that crushed civilizations without effort or consideration. A natural consequence of assuming control over something beyond even the idea of command. Ancient. Endless.

The unseelie hesitated.

She waited, too, frightened to trust again so quickly. She fought to breathe, to reason out what was happening. If he'd order that fucking plant burned in Hell, she'd feel a lot better.

"N-no, Lord Morpheus."

The Dream King rose, and every member of the unseelie delegation took a step back. Caught in the leader's grasp, she stumbled with them, clinging and whimpering as she tried to find strength to stand on her own and wrestle free.

"Did you think I'd rejoice to see one so intimately linked to my fate dragged to my throne against her will?"

The sun faded from behind the stained glass, and shadows curled out from between the columns like living things. They didn't obey the light, and they twisted hungrily on the verge of attack.

The unseelie's grip shifted. A sharp nail pressed into the side of her throat, and long fingers circled her neck. Rather than showcasing her to the side, the envoy swung her forward to block the king's ire. A literal human shield.

It was a bad idea to threaten a king in his own palace. Even discreetly.

"You are guests in my realm, and therefore protected by the laws." His eyes blazed, and a warning pulled his voice so low she could feel it in her spine, reverberating through the realm. "But if you do not release Aisling Hunt to my hospitality - safe and well - you will have harmed another guest, and your protection shall be revoked."

He didn't negotiate. He simply explained. And the unseelie holding her knew it.

"We had always intended to leave her in your care," he whined.

"Do you wish to leave my realm alive?"

The unseelie stuttered, and a cruel sliver of a smirk ghosted over the pale king's face.

"But if you'd rather stay - Well."

The unseelie considered, flexing his grip. He'd come on a mission, and it had gone poorly. The Dream King was not grateful, and now the fae had to decide if it was safer to keep his shield or flee. A moment's thought. And he shoved her forward, hard. She landed hard on her knees, yelping at the impact, and the unseelie moved out of the chamber in a rush of half-hearted apologies.

Murmurs and footsteps faded, a distant argument breaking out like a clap of thunder. She flinched, still on hands and knees, trapped in a spiral of breaths that wouldn't come fast enough and shaking limbs that couldn't fully support her.

The flower was gone. The unseelie were gone. But she wasn't alone. Wasn't safe. And the sticky spiderweb lace plucked on her nerves without keeping her warm, so she shuddered on the hard, stone floor and gasped as she stared down at her strangely pretty hands with their unicorn treatment, and -

She was not.

Not on the floor. Not on her knees.

With Morpheus.

He seized her, caught her up close with fingers that hooked into her shoulders like talons. The world seemed to quake, but maybe that was only the chest beneath her cheek and the arms around her back. She didn’t see him change shape or size, but his presence swelled, thick and biting like ozone as he pulled her so deep into his embrace she couldn’t see his splendid throne, or the retreating unseelie, or anything beyond him.

Was this better? Was this safe? She didn't know, she didn't know, she didn't trust him. Her ribs crowded her lungs, and her breathing fluttered, never drawing a full inhale or exhale, only pulling enough oxygen to keep her lightheaded, broken hearted, and awake.

"Sir?"

He dragged her deeper, long fingers gathering her by the handful to pull inside his shadows. At least, it felt that way. He might not break and bend her like the unseelie, but she had no doubt he could consume her, swallow her up until she blinked in the dark like a little star.

"Sir."

"What is it, Lucienne?" His rough, begrudging question flooded her senses, and her fingers spasmed where they dangled at her sides.

"Sir, she is not well."

She couldn't see the speaker, but they weren't wrong. Aisling felt very unwell. She hurt, and she ached, and she was worried something was irreparably broken, but she couldn't remember its name. She spun in eddies of failing thoughts, struggling to follow the basic conversation.

"I know." Sorrow, frustration, and darkness there.

But the stranger outside Morpheus's embrace remained undaunted, insistent. "Sir, she cannot breathe."

A cool hand cradled the side of her face, summoning her to meet his radiant eyes. A frightening place to be - in his hand, under his gaze - made worse by the fact she didn't know whether or not it was the perfect escape or some fresh hell.

His thumb rolled down the tear tracks, memorizing them by touch, teaching himself the shape of her pain. The face he denied her was very, very near, but she couldn't read it. Couldn't plumb the depths of whatever he tried to express.

"You must breathe."

It didn't sound like an order. He nearly whispered the three words, a private request for her ears alone. A plea. And she wanted to. She wanted to thank him for asking by filling her lungs, relaxing in his arms, and assuring him everything was fine. But she couldn't, and she didn't, and it wasn't. Another tear broke loose from the pools gathered over her lower lashes and rolled over his thumb, washing him in the agony he tried to explore.

"I have you now." He spoke like a song, the cadence pulling around her mind, soft and sweet as a lullaby, and she wondered if he was consciously trying to charm her. Any other time, she'd welcome it, but she couldn't find her courage, or her attraction. All she felt was small. Frightened. Vulnerable and nearly naked in the arms of a creature she didn't trust.

She couldn't decide to calm herself. Panic stopped being a choice several hours back, and as her body woke up, it demanded the reactions the unseelie potion refused it. Her shaking was her answer. She had nothing to give his searching eyes. Words were human and she stood there as a mess of fears and silent prayers tangled in a web of nerves.

He leaned in, pressing his lips to her third eye.

"Let me help you."

Tensing, expecting more magic or power to crush over her mind, she felt him brush her subconscious. He waited there, at the gates, and the part of her that understood him best accepted his hand. Guiding her from the frightful awareness of her own body, her monster sheltered her in a softer darkness, wrapping her in the blurred sensations of a peaceful rest.

Sleep.

She blinked, and slumped, and he gathered her up. As she faded, she saw him: the worlds beyond the face, and the smooth white skin of a being she was on the verge of loving without understanding.

Fuck.

She was still a fool, and his arms seemed like the safest place in all the world.

A very good place to fall.

Asleep.

#morpheus x reader #sandman x oc #sandman x reader #dream of the endless x oc #fic: hello mr. monster #sandman fic

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einsatzzz · 2 months

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[Project] (KH)Re:born!!!

I've been wanting to do a pinned post talking/rambling about my projects, so I'll do it now while I've still got some free time!

Anyway, for various reasons including wanting to keep it simple (for goldfish brain reasons), @amiahoshi and I decided to call this project "Katekyo Hitman Re:born!!!". We call it either Re:born!!! or KHRe for short. I also tried editing a title logo out of it some time ago (inspired from the og logo) for whenever it will be necessary!

Actually, I've just been tagging posts under this project under #khre (since mid-2023) because when I type #khr, I'll immediately remember to also type #khre. Anyway, more info below! (Ein from the future: it will be long)

Note: For any typos/grammatical mistakes, sorry not sorry this is just me rambling, so no beta we die like Tsuna did every time Reborn shoots him in Daily Life Arc.

TLDR: This project has become like my creative sandbox playground. The KHR brainrot is still going VERY STRONG, and has been for the past two years. I can't believe I didn't discover this series earlier. I am so normal about KHR.

It's also inspired from T//oky//o Gh//oul's title, where it had "T//G:re". And it really just emphasizes the "Re" on "Reborn", meaning "again, do over".

In KHR, besides being named after our fave baby hitman Reborn, this concept also connects to a lot of the themes in the show, especially with Tsuna and his Dying Will Mode. Then there's also the whole Vongola 10th generation, who seem like the reincarnation or the "second coming" of the Vongola 1st generation. I'm sure there are others I haven't noticed yet or just forgot to mention here!

Anyway, KHRe is sort of a similar universe to canon, but not exactly the same. There will be additional characters, which are mostly our OCs from the Oniyanagi yakuza family for now, then there will also be modifications/additions to the story/lore as well (e.g. certain arcs/chapters will be rearranged, certain events will happen earlier). Tsuna retains his protagonist role in KHRe as well (im so fond of him), but he will also be joined in this role by the twin bosses from Oniyanagi, Kana and Kurumi.

Kana and Kurumi's addition here really puts the emphasis on the "Re", because their individual overarching stories provide more interpretations to the word itself "Reborn", which adds onto Tsuna's.

The tldr of the premise so far is that Oniyanagi and Vongola are business partners, so shortly after Tsuna met Reborn and Gokudera, the twins and Yui (their right-hand man) transferred to Namimori. This is so that they can help each other to grow and with their respective training as well to become future bosses of their Family (Tsuna doesn't want to become one of course! lol).

Along with Kana & Kurumi, three of their guardians (incldg Yui) tagged along with their move to Namimori, while two of them remained in their previous city of residence (Tokyo). In their guardian line-up, they currently have an empty seat for the Sun Guardian and they're still actively looking for the one fit for it. Perhaps they'll find them in Namimori? (Spoilers: Yes, they will. Their full line-up is here.)

So far, the major ambitious projects I have under this one are as follows:

Oniyanagi Wiki: This is a wiki site I made in Miraheze. I'll put it in public mode once I finish cleaning up Kurumi's character profile. We plan on compiling all character/group/story infos here for KHRe, which will also include AUs and alternate timelines. If there will be a lot of story divergence with certain canon characters, we'll also make a page for them there too (from the top of my head, so far, it will be Tsuna, Hibari, Enma, Kyoko & Haru). This is the project I've made most progress on so far, I learned a fair amount about making wiki pages hahaha.

KHRe Webcomic: A webcomic that features KHRe's story. Just like canon, it starts with Daily Life Arc. Right now, I'm just thinking of drawing intro chapters for Kurumi, Yui and then Kana for it. But I'm also tempted to just go full-fledged webcomic retelling of majority of KHRe lol like just for deadass committing to the bit. I just really think it will help me improve my art a lot because it will force me to draw other stuff I haven't tried to seriously learn how to draw before (like have you seen the improvement in TOG Webtoon's art style??! Damn...I want that too.) KHRe also has stories that continue past KHR's final arc. I want that high school, TYL and alternate future timeline content too y'know! I think I want to finish drawing at least one chapter by Q4 2024, I'll have a lot of time to focus on this after my exam on June.

Into the Looking Glass: This is a Horror RPGMaker game in the planning stage and it features a prequel story for Kurumi's childhood (around 8-9 years old). Long story short, it does follow the classic formula of a small kid exploring a scary/creepy place by themselves. Don't worry, she will also have a companion or two here! (So...just like Ib.) The title is very much still subject to change, but I referenced Alice in Wonderland for it. Because it's Baby Kurumi (Alice) stumbling in an otherworldly place (Wonderland) and the events that take place moving forward changes her life. I already have a plot and ending(s) in mind, just need to write a script. This will take a very long time to complete, but I wanna finish it eventually because I'm also a big fan of Horror RPGMaker games and I've always wanted to make one (this is my chance! I alr have a story! Just need to write and execute it!). Here's a very old concept art of the baby! I'll draw a new updated one when I get the time (the only biggest change here will probably just be the eye pupils, which really isn't much).

KHRe Test Game (no title yet): Less ambitious than previous three. This will be a very short RPGMaker Game with Tsuna as MC. This is just me testing and learning the features of RPGMaker before I go do more work for Into the Looking Glass. The game is just about Tsuna being invited to the Ninomiya Estate by Kurumi and he has a very "fun" time there 😂👍✨ (just like a normal Daily Life Arc episode~). It won't be horror, but maybe for Tsuna it will be 😀 So far, I managed to make a map for Tsuna's room (and some other parts of the Sawada Residence) for the intro scene hehe

As for other projects that are less ambitious and more doable in a shorter time, I do have MV Projects for KHRe plus a few shorts (like this one) I plan on drawing them in. I listed my priorities here (along with the major projects) and will try to update when I can (ideally, at least monthly...but definitely not for June 💀).

That's all for now! THANK YOU FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK!! (seriously...because this turned out so much longer than I thought it would be 🗿...I will now proceed to hide under the rock again).

Any questions are always welcome and very very appreciated! 👀✨I really just love talking about this series, OCs (mine and others') and my projects!

#khr #katekyo hitman reborn #khre #khr oc #oniyanagi #sawada tsunayoshi #ninomiya kurumi #ninomiya kanako #einart #einproject #i typed all of this while trying not to pass out from being eepy #i did pass out in the end but i finished it #hahahaha #had to go do hand-to-hand combat vs my anxious brain just to click post on this one bruh

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kakyogay · 10 months

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five scuggles possible lore but being serious is hard

also oc lore jumpscare

summary under cut if my beautiful totally high effort doodles didn't potray it well

five piddles was just a small itty ouppy that got separated from his colony and stumbled upon an iterator

oops iterator is MEAN specializes in genetic modifications and decided to use him for a couple of modifications.

another oops bro is immune to sedatives and shit hurty (he can read pearls now ig)

also got the rot put in him because he was being mean (actually just struggled too much making the iterator make a mistake and oops rot)

anyways after some time passed, moog (another messenger of his with good swimmy and garbage stamina) didn't like that and before he could mess with him again, she fucked with his structure and oops collapse

piddles doesn't remember shit but that don't matter because moog is now taking care of him and going on adventure :D

then the rot starts developing and they get separated then chaos ensues

very iffy if I want to make it the actual plot or nah but I find it kinda neat and thought I'd share it idk. (also just found the doodles hella silly)

#rain world #five pebbles #looks to the moon #the assistant (oc)#meanerator #perfect placeholder name #I'll post the refs for the ocs some other time because I finished them quite a while ago #also I have more serious doodles I made a while ago but they were made a while ago and more serious #scugerator swap #might come up with a less angsty plot for the actual au but for now I gots this

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lambsouvlaki · 10 months

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For the Hell of it - Real, Alive

Character: Jason Todd x civilian! Fem!oc

Rating and Warnings: G. Description of dissociation.

Word Count: 1,589

Summary: Jason struggles after a Joker breakout at Arkham, and turns to Andy for comfort.

Masterlist

He had intended to tell her the truth. He really had.

Plans had been sketched and trashed, messaged drafted and deleted, and a purpose built hang out planned and cancelled. Keeping her in the dark was only getting harder.

He knew she was suspicious. She’d be a fool not to be. The NDA he made up to excuse never talking about his work in ‘private security’ was doing a lot of heavy lifting. Some of the other lies he’d given her at the beginning didn’t hold up under long term scrutiny. And that wasn’t even touching his own screwups.

He had told her about a few too many of his favourite restaurants and food trucks only to be treated like a stranger when he took her there. He had disappeared with a paper thin excuse in the middle of hanging out when KGBeast broke out of Blackgate in desperate need of an ass kicking.

And then there was the day he had handed her the wrong gym bag, telling her to grab the books from it. She had pulled out a handgun. She put it back in without a word and they swapped bags silently. He hoped she didn’t notice the heavy modifications and thought it was just a regular concealed carry, nothing scandalous for the Alley. She had a troublingly good poker face. He really had no clue what she thought of all his bullshit.

He was afraid. He was man enough to admit it. Andy meant too much to him to lose her over his lies, if she took it poorly he didn’t know what he’d do.

Then she figured it out on her own and all his plans were for nothing.

He was in full Red Hood gear despite it being early afternoon, speeding towards her apartment to talk about it. Dread and relief coiled in him in unequal parts. He didn’t have to pretend anymore, if he still had someone to pretend for. After all she had gone through, she had every right to never speak to him again.

His earpiece buzzed with Oracle’s signature voice modulation.

“The Joker is in the middle of an Arkham breakout. This is top priority, everyone, drop everything else.”

He gripped his handlebars so hard his knuckles ached. He leaned into a sharp u-turn and sped away back the way he came.

Every other concern was secondary. All the bats and birds converged as Batman gave terse order over the coms. Word got out and the news descended over the city, bringing a silent panic to every street. Jason hated it. In those moments it felt like Gotham gave up and admitted it was Joker’s city.

Not on his watch.

Their plan worked with nary a hitch. Oracle had caught it so early they could, for once, act before the day’s dastardly scheme was executed. Whatever their differences, the family worked together seamlessly when they needed to. Only an hour after midnight the Joker was back in his cell and sulking like a diva denied her solo.

Nothing blew up. No hostages were taken. No backs were broken and no children were beaten to death in remote warehouses. They found out about the joker toxin bombs planted across the southside with enough time to spare and sent the cops the locations and disarmament instructions.

“Not bad for an Arkham breakout,” Tim said, sitting on the medical bed in the batcave. Batman was wrapping his arm up.

Jason glowered at the report he was writing. “Two trashmen died.”

Tim’s eyes narrowed at nothing. “We always fall down at the human element. The best security in the world can’t stand up to someone turning it off. There wasn’t anything else we could have done today.”

Jason looked up. Dick looked at his feet.

“We can always be more prepared,” Batman said, neutral. He looked fixedly at the sprained wrist in his hands.

Jason clenched his jaw. He stomped out before the words roaring in his chest had the chance to escape. Before someone gave him an excuse to throw a punch.

There wasn’t anything we could have done.

Didn’t denial taste nice when the price was someone else’s life? He got on his bike and sped away from a silent cave.

He had found the two bodies discarded outside the prison. Just regular folk, paid to do a regular job. Wrong place, wrong time.

They were acceptable losses. That was what Bruce decided when he kept the Joker alive. And now, it was what Jason decided when he did the same. He sold them out for the right to operate in Batman’s city.

His own hypocrisy sickened him.

Just as he made it back to his apartment his phone buzzed with a text. He expected something saccharine or smothering from Dick. But no–it was Andy.

‘Are you okay?’

Of course, she knew who he was now and what he would have been doing over the last twelve hours. She didn’t know just what this case meant to him. She didn’t know he wanted to break into that prison and put a bullet in that maniac’s head. That he hated himself for not doing it.

‘No.’

‘Anything I can do?’

Of course not. There was no fixing it.

He methodically cleaned all his weapons and armour, checked his gear and put it away. He went through his post-patrol rituals and tried to decompress. His hands were shaky throughout. Except for when he held his reassembled pistol. Then it was dead still.

What did he come back to life for, if not this? What was he even doing here?

The sight of his comfortable bed sickened him. The fancy apartment too. What right did he have to it when there were people in his city, defenceless. Unmourned. Unavenged. Was this his justice?

Laughter roared and giggled and simpered in the back of his mind.

It was going to be a bad night.

Despairing, an idea jumped at him. He flipped his phone the right way up on the table and typed.

‘Can I borrow your dog?’

‘Of course’

He grabbed a jacket and headed back out. The city was quieter now. It felt watchful and suspicious. These things didn’t usually go so well and nobody wanted to risk celebrating too early.

Andy opened the door to him almost immediately. She stepped aside and he came in without thought. Marlow was happy to see him and rubbed against his side.

Andy was in an overlarge flannel button up pyjama top and soft cotton tights. Of course, it was the middle of the night. He remembered too late that she had an early class tomorrow. He was a terrible friend.

“Sorry for waking you.”

She shook her head. “You didn’t. I messaged you.”

They stood an awkward distance apart in her kitchen. He felt unmoored now, his anger and self recriminations strong but mixed up in the morass of his chest. She looked like she was going to ask, and he dreaded it. She opened and closed her mouth.

“Are you… Can I-?” She opened her arms tentatively.

He nodded. She wrapped her arms around him. He engulfed her in turn. He didn’t deserve it but she offered, he told himself. She knew who he was now, what he did, what he hadn’t done. She still offered. He clutched her against himself.

Her breath brushed over his collarbone. She was warm and solid, real and alive. So was he. He was alive. He was real, he was here, and he was alive.

“You are,” she whispered. “You’re in my apartment and you’re alive. I’m so happy you’re alive, Jason.”

His eyes itched. He hadn’t meant to say any of that out loud.

“You barely know me,” he rasped.

She shrugged in his arms. “Still.”

He sucked in a desperate breath. Had anybody been glad he came back? He detangled himself from her before it could be too much. She turned away and busied herself with the kettle, obviously giving him some privacy. He looked up and listed in his head physical sensations and objects he could see.

There was a glowing red digital clock on the microwave.

He walked out to the living room. The dog came with him, glued to his side. Andy reappeared and pushed a steaming cup of herbal tea into his hand. The smell was rich with licorice. It brought him back to himself a little bit.

She smiled softly up at him. No fear or suspicion he could find in her eyes.

“You remember where the blankets are, right?”

He nodded, which was about as much as he was capable of at present.

“I’m going back to bed then. Give a shout if you need anything.”

“You are far too trusting,” he said, because he felt someone should. She had to have some idea of how dangerous he was. She had been hurt before, how could she just let him back in like this?

She gave him a long look. “No, I’m not.” And she walked away. “Good night, Jason.”

“...’night.”

The bedroom door shut, taking the light with it. He sat down on the old couch. Aches he had been too stressed to notice became suddenly unmissable. Oh, he was tired.

He kicked his boots off and lay down. A very large dog climbed up and curled up on top of his feet.

“You know your mom doesn’t let you sleep on the couch,” he sighed.

“Wruff.”

He almost managed a smile.

“Fine, but I’m kicking you off when I stop feeling my legs.”

He leaned his head back on the hard armrest and slowly drifted off to sleep.

Next>>

#I swear this was meant to be a conversation over the Red Hood reveal #I guess we're not doing that #jason todd #red hood #dc #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x oc #jason todd x reader #my fanfic #for the hell of it #red hood x oc #fluff #angst

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letstalkwhump · 1 year

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Welcome to Let’s Talk Whump, a series of interviews that spotlight the amazing people in our whump community! I’m Malice and I’ll be your host today.

Here today to talk all things whumpy is the brilliant @whumpcereal!

It’s great to have you here! Let’s start with a fact or two about yourself like your favorite color or favorite animal?

My name is Kay, and I’m a high school teacher in my 30’s. Besides whumping unsuspecting gentlemen, my hobbies include reading a lot, belting out showtunes, cooking for people I love, hitting up new bars and restaurants with friends, and traveling. And since you asked–and as a teacher, I hate unanswered questions–I’ve recently realized that orange might be my favorite color, and I love gorillas.

What does whump mean to you?

It’s the sort of pressing-on-a-bruise feeling that is wrapped up in watching someone suffer and then be comforted. It’s the need for vulnerability and human connection. It’s watching Prince Philip get chained to a wall and not understanding why you find it so magnetic, but you do, haha!

How did you find the whump community? What made you want to join?

I was writing for the Newsies fandom (I know) during the pandemic, and one of my favorite authors tagged her epic work with “whump.” I clicked the tag on tumblr, and I found @lonesome--hunter’s Ezra almost immediately; I fell down the rabbit hole and never came out. After Ezra, I spent a good long time with @ashintheairlikesnow’s Danny and then @galaxywhump’s Wren. I realized that a lot of what I was putting in my own writing could be classified as “whump,” but I wasn’t sure how to join in the fun. I lurked for a while and then beta-ed for @darkthingshappen before I got brave enough to post my own stuff. But part of what motivated me to start posting was just how supportive and welcoming the whole community is. On AO3, you can get tons of hits but almost no real engagement; with whump, that’s totally different. It makes my little dopamine receptors ping.

The whump community is amazingly supportive! Do you think your view on or the way you consume whump changed since you joined?

I am definitely a hurt/comfort gal. I can’t do the hurt without the comfort, and I need my whump to be strongly oriented in the characters’ feelings, whether we’re talking whumpers or whumpees. I struggle when a character is just getting the shit kicked out of them endlessly; I want them to have some relief, even if the relief is bittersweet or painful in its own way. I also find it easier to whump an OC than I do a fandom character, just because if they’re mine, I can build the kind of backstory that makes the whump reasonable.

And your favourite whump trope?

I do like noncon. Whump is a genre where I’ve really been able to explore scary things that have happened to me, and when a whumpee has an honest (and not needlessly gratuitous) nonconsensual experience, I gravitate toward it, especially if they’re allowed to explore the aftermath and how it makes them feel. I also love a mute whumpee–probably because I watched The Little Mermaid too many times growing up. Something about the helplessness of being trapped in your own body and at the mercy of others–hey, whumperflies! Captivity whump too, especially anything in the BBU. The BBU was one of my favorite discoveries when I found the community. It provides such rich opportunities!

Captivity whump is so good! Would you mind sharing a favourite piece you've written? (the following pieces may contain non-explicit nsfw references)

Ooooh. Well, I guess I’ll choose one from each of my series. For Jack, my first and forever whumpee in Behavior Modification, and his caretaker, my wish-fulfillment fake husband, Joe, it’s this piece with their little girl. It’s something that I wrote in basically a single stretch one afternoon last summer, and I’m proud of it because it shows both how far Jack has come in his recovery and how much everything he’s gone through is still affecting him. It also shows how fierce of a protector Joe is, even though Jack’s got strength of his own. Plus, Hallie, their little girl, was super fun to create. She’s a feisty little thing, and I liked the idea of looking at such a dark, violent system through a child’s eyes.

For The Kennel, it’s this piece which immediately follows my boy Will after his best friend Tommy is forced to assault him. It’s got the aftermath of noncon, plus it includes a lot of world building for my scary whumper, Doc, and his particular set-up. It really sets up the horror of the situation in which Will and Tommy have found themselves and also emphasizes the stories of other whumpees whose stories I’d love to explore (Justin and Tony, I’m looking at you). Plus, it gives Annie–who’s technically the caretaker in this story, even though she’s been abused herself–a chance to think about how she’s been raised and the way her father treats people. My favorite moment is when Will just breaks down completely, because we haven’t seen him do that yet. It’s a human moment, and he’s feeling so much less than human that it’s almost cathartic.

And then, honorable mention to this piece where I crossover my two stories and let Jack help Will as his post-rescue counselor. I had so much fun with that reveal!

Oh wow, I love the Kennel piece! You’ve broken my heart with Justin and Will! Would you like to share your writing routine with us?

I’ve actually been riding a bit of a block lately, but typically, I am an evening writer. No drinks or snacks, but usually movie scores that match the mood of what I’m writing. On good nights, it’s big blocks; on others, it’s just a sentence here and there (that’s been where I’m at lately). I try to write a little every day, but again, it’s been rough lately. Being a teacher at the end of the year is just as hard as being a student, haha.

I can only imagine! Are some things easier for you to write? Anything you struggle with writing?

I have an easier time writing recovery than I do straight whump, which is sometimes a bummer, because the whump community doesn’t seem to like recovery quite as much. So, I’ll pour myself into a recovery piece I have big feelings about, and then it won’t get quite as much traffic and engagement as when I’m roughing up the boys. I am very careful about how I write noncon. I think I do a decent job, but I try to approach it from a place of sensitivity to the person who is suffering versus engaging through violence alone. That can take a lot of time and thought and big feelings.

And is there anything you're working on at the moment?

I do have a fantasy crossover miniseries with Jack, Joe, and Ivan and @oddsconverts’ Josh and Felix that I’ve had a really fun time working on. I need to write a little intro before I post it. I need to go back to Jack and his intimacy consultations at WRU, and AU AU Joe and his reaction to the Drip. Poor Will and Tommy are in desperate need of attention; I need to get Will sold away so all the drama can increase. Maybe during summer vacation?

Do you have a joke or pun you would like to share to spread some smiles today? I am only funny on accident. Just ask my students. ;-)

Do you have any writing advice you’d like to share?

I’m great at giving advice to others, but absolute shit at following that advice myself. For instance, write for you. Don’t write for hits, likes, reblogs, etc. Just write what you want to read. Write as often as you can. During the pandemic, what got me back into writing after years of thinking about it was trying to write a little every day. Find you some writing friends who will get excited with you when there’s something you can’t wait to write about.

Finally, would you like to give a mention to some of the amazing people in the whump community?

I already mentioned some of my favorites, but shout outs to @hold-him-down (whom I was lucky enough to eat very expensive risotto with this spring and whose Leo is one of my very favorite whumpees), @peachy-panic (58 Days is one of my VERY favorites), @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump (whose Wyatt has my whole heart), and @squishablesunbeam (I mean, Jesse? Come on!). My first friends in the whump community were @darkthingshappen (creator of my Benny baby), @oddsconvert (whose series are all so beautifully written that I can’t choose a favorite–she even made me like vampire whump–and who is my wonder twin forever), and @sparrowsage (go check out his new stuff!).

Thank you so much for joining us, @whumpcereal ! It was a pleasure to have you here!

And to all you lovely folks at home, have a whump-derful day!

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shatteredsoul60 · 1 month

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I'm so bored-

I wanna do a Lego Monkie Kid Zombie/Monster Apocalypse AU Roleplay so badly- 😭 ARGHHH

I wanna do an OC x CC, I wanna use my demon cobra, whose name is Dagger. Before the zombie/monster apocalypse hit, Dagger was a well known assassin. She was a deadly one at that. A feared assassin, a loyal guard to Spider Queen. In love with a nerdy spider.

Here's the idea/short story!

After another failed attempt of Spider Queen's plan to take over the city. She decided to get her little minions together to make a plan. She went to Syntax for the main plan. Suggesting that he should make a sickness to spread out through the city, suggesting that the sickness should turn the people into zombies. Not flesh eating zombies but at least mind controlled zombies, Syntax brought up the fact that they technically already did that with the spiders. But it was quickly shut down, Spider Queen suggesting that this would be a great plan to try again.

Regrettably Syntax agreed. Doing as his Queen requested, He quickly got to work on a sickness. He could fill in his gut that this was a bad, bad idea. But he could not disobey his Queen. That would lend him in more trouble than he wanted. As he hastily worked on it, the girl who had helped them before appeared behind him causing him to jolt a little. He slightly glared at her and asked what she wanted in a bitter tone, She simply said she had an idea on how to help this go around. The sciency spider only scoffed at her words. Disagreeing with the offer of help, The girl didn't take it well. Later that night a Syntax went to bed, The girl snuck into his office. She made some changes, So much needed modifications. Sabotaging his idea.

When the time came for the plan to be sent in motion. Syntax was told to spread the sickness across the city, the formula was in a gas. So Syntax got into an airship and flew over the city, starting to spill the gas over it. The spiders had gas masks so they were protected from it, They were prepared... But not so prepared but the aftermath would be. As hours passed and night was slowly coming, it was noticeable that people were starting to get sick. But it didn't fully get into effect straight away. People Just thought it was a sickness going around.

Until people start attacking others, tearing into them. Spiders watch this from the underground layer. Even the Spider Queen herself looked horrified. She whirled around on Syntax, yelling at him. He tried to defend himself, trying to say that this was not his fault. He did everything correctly. Then he noticed the girl standing nearby, With a satisfied look on her face. Then He pointed at her and blamed her for messing up his plans. Sadly Spider Queen did not believe him, told him that he should make a cure quickly before this gets any worse.

But sadly... He could not fix this.

SO THOUGHT'S ON THIS?!? I really wanna do this, I think it would be super fun

#monkie kid #looking for a roleplay partner

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the-artist-fox · 2 months

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I present to you Mystery, my first slugcat oc, I became very fond of her, I hope to be able to tell his story in the near future :D

por ahora su descripción estara en español, algun día hare versión ingles para los que no entienden español :]

(For now her description will be in Spanish, someday I will make an English version for those who do not understand Spanish :])

quick translations (The translation may have some errors, so sorry.)

eyes: (1. eye color) (2. blind [from birth])

gills: can hold her breath underwater for the same amount of time as the rivulet

wings: can fly :D

overseer: (1. her companion/guide) (2. it's called Leaf)

arm: (tracker on an arm: allows its iterator to know where it is and communicate with her over long distance)

clean version

conceptual art (done months ago before I made the final drawing)

[the mystery of Saint's time is still canonical of her future and "end"]

mistery is a messenger slugcat created by seven wings of the wind, an iterator from somewhat distant territories who used to be half friends with sliver of straw and seven red suns, before the disappearance of sliver of straw occurred and then some time after most of His communications will be damaged by the passage of time, leaving him almost completely isolated from being able to communicate with other iterators, He created Mistery before the collapse of Moon (starting the process during Artificer's time in the timeline) before Mistery there were many attempts faileds, he asked a close iterator friend for help and he got what for him was another failed attempt, since it was a blind slugcat, but he was curious to see what would happen if he gave the little blind creature a second chance, raising her carefully, and making some modifications to her to improve her orientation (big ears and improved sense of smell), as the cycles went by she became attached to her little creation, and mystery, being blind, thought that seven wings of the wind was a slugcat, and who was his father, being quite attached to him as well.

#rain world #rw #rain world downpour #rain world oc #rw oc #my art #my oc #oc #rw au #rain world au #slugcat oc

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aliettali · 7 months

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I wanna know more about your clone ocs!

thank you so much for asking this you have opened the floodgates i am so sorry!

i have nine: tidbit, crypt, oops, flipside, sher, intel, three-two, pint, and dangle. i’ve only (officially) drawn crypt and tidbit so far, but i do have a sketch for oops that i’ll be putting in here as reference. it is also worth mentioning that only crypt and tidbit are actually alive - the others all died so they dont have as much lore!

everyone except tidbit (crypt + co) are batchmates. the large majority of them die before they can individualize so they don’t have many unique designs my bad! also they’re all relatively young- i’d like to think that they’re fresh out of kamino and get assigned to the 501st on umbara almost immediately. and that goes SPLENDID (all of them die except for crypt, who is left to deal with losing every single one of his batchmates within a single campaign)

putting things under a "keep reading" section because it gets pretty long

crypt ct-4342:

well he WAS going to be a medic and them umbara fucked him up so severely (physically and mentally) that he couldnt deal w the hypothetical consequences of having blood on his hands anymore

now hes a slicer (he goes back to get medic certified because he does want to save people but that’s a separate character arc)

honestly i signed him up for bad things happen bingo and he just has to deal with it

doesnt get a name until after umbara, chose it because a) encryption, slicing reference b) crypt -> grave -> his brothers never got one

facial/corneal scarring that holds his right eye slightly open+ some hearing loss that he makes up for with (unsanctioned) modifications to his bucket. outer arm scarring too because he shielded his head

tidbit ct-2719:

field medic ! hes also a little bitch but a) older and b) aware of concepts such as “emotional maturity” and “compartmentalization” so he’s doing ok

he and crypt hit it off pretty quickly because it took him exactly three whole days of being stationed w the 501st to sprain an ankle by doing a cartwheel on a sloped floor (dangle dared him to)... but he was polite and nice and compliant in the medbay which is rare

theyre the most brother figures to ever i love them dearly

anyway tidbit keeps his hair short because he got fed up w it getting in his face when leaning over people you know how it is. never plans on getting a tattoo because he’s seen too many people in the medbay with ink related infections for that to happen, settles for hair bs instead

got his name because he tells his patients random bullshit to distract them

mostly closed off bc he’s seen a lot of troopers die (he cares far too much and it’s becoming a problem) and if he can’t save them in time then it means he’s losing those he loves because of his own incompetence

oops ct-4748 (dies on umbara):

this motherfucker decided to catch an activated thermal detonator and tossed it back so late that he burnt his eyebrows off permanently (he also has burns on his hand but they wear gloves)

the only thing he said was “oops” so that’s his brand now

overall he was a pretty chill guy too bad he died saving crypt

(he dies draped on top of crypt, who wakes up half thinking that they’re back on kamino in a batch pile but nope! oops is dead sher is dead pint is dead three-two is dead he can only pray that dangle and intel are alright) (crypt gets up and casts oops off and has to leave him behind, stumbling through a veritable graveyard, almost blind in one eye and teary-eyed in the other, and almost gets shot when he finally finds more troopers) (they’re the 212th but its okay they're alive and okay) (he gets through the disguise clusterfuck and crypt races over to tidbit to ask about dangle and intel) (they’re dead and gone and he has never been so alone)

flipside ct-4344 (dies on umbara):

little bitch, got his name because he really hated the kamino bunk pillows and kept flipping them over to get at the cooler side (he just ran really hot for no reason)

dies in a classic krell “push forward no matter the consequences” maneuver- he's the first of the batch to die actually good for him

was probably the closest to straight up defecting out of everyone

sher ct-4190 (dies on umbara):

the calm normal guy, he and intel are probably the reasons the batch got off kamino in the first place

slightly longer hair than regulation - he wanted to grow it out into a ponytail but guess what happened

was an older brother out of necessity but the others realized how hard he was taking it whenever any of them did something reckless and got hurt as a result so they toned it down a bit

forces crypt to go on without him when he gets shot and subsequently dies alone

he was going to be a sniper bc he always had steady hands (his batchmates always asked him to cut their hair for them) (he was trembling when he died) (i think he was too kind to survive much longer than that anyway)

intel ct-4223 (dies on umbara):

REALLY focused on making plans, the second most responsible

“guys, please, what’s the plan? we have intel for this test, we just watched the other group take it-”

“you and your intel. i say our plan is to FUCK IT and BALL”

he and sher try really hard to manage the others. sadly kamino does not manufacture child leashes

gets killed on umbara like a good soldier who follows orders (krell tactics again)

he dies painfully aware of his own insignificance bc preciously he was driven by some hope that hey!!! if we get past this training/test/battle we won’t be forgotten but exactly three people end up remembering him as a person lmao (tidbit, crypt, rex)

i think he and dogma fucking hated each other

pint ct-4337 (dies on umbara):

the only one of them to have paint on their armor pre-umbara and thats through sheer bad luck - he walked into a room and kicked over a can of paint and got some of it on his boot toe

dies alongside intel

three-two ct-4332 (dies on umbara):

never chose a name, pretty withdrawn from the rest of his batch bc he, unfortunately, is hyperaware of his circumstances and what will happen to his brothers after the war

aggressively regulation haircut

as soon as intel and pint are killed in front of him he realizes that they might not matter in the long run but his brothers wormed their ways into his heart and now they're gone before he even chose a name. he didnt even get to tell them his name and they're dead (messes up and gets shot moments later)

dangle ct-4322 (dies on umbara):

suspiciously flexible, probably hypermobile, loved dangling (!) from the top bunk with his legs on the bed and his entire upper body just. hanging there

saw shaak ti do a sick jedi trick ONCE and decided that was his brand so he liked practicing cartwheels and splits and backbends in his spare time

they didnt have music (cant have shit on kamino) so he hummed his own and imagined dances to them

dies on umbara ft the clone eating plant thing because he was under the impression that crypt was just killed

#star wars tcw #tcw #the clone wars #clone trooper oc #clone trooper crypt #clone trooper tidbit #clone trooper oops #clone trooper flipside #clone trooper sher #clone trooper intel #clone trooper pint #clone trooper dangle #blast batch #lmao i care them #expect comics sometime

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loyalhorror · 3 months

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tw: torture / abuse, captivity, solitary confinement, body horror / modification, angelic possession, weird experiment shit

working on a WIP of some scenes throughout my OC's timeline. here's some snippets. chronological order.

first two parts are from the creator's POV (he uses he/him only), the others are from elijah's (it uses it/its when dehumanized, then reclaims he/him at the end). the angel is also referred to with it/its, so it might get confusing, but. well. too bad. that's kind of the whole point lol.

---------------

It was crying, straining forwards against the chains that bound it. Blinded by tears, it shuddered and clawed for him, desperate for contact, for anything after so long in the dark. It couldn’t reach him, but it tried nonetheless. A mad, desperate creature, no trace of its old wilfulness left.

Revulsion stirred in his gut. The starving, snivelling thing before him thought itself hard done by, but in truth, he had been merciful to it. He had been generous.

He would make it see that, soon enough.

“Quiet.”

The thing’s jaws clicked shut. The only sound from it was the sharp rattle of its chains as it trembled, waiting.

It reeked of terror, he thought. As it should.

—------------------

Later, he held the frightened thing in his arms while it slept, its skin red-raw from the thorough scrubbing he had given it, cleaning off a decade’s worth of accumulated filth. Its dark blond hair had been so matted that there’d been no saving it. It had wept while he shaved its head, apologising over and over until he ordered it to be quiet again.

It slept in fits and starts, waking over and over with the start of a silenced scream in its throat. Sometimes it didn’t seem to know where it was, or who it was. Its master would stroke its shaved head and order it to sleep, and under it would go again, lost to the dark.

It was a kindness, he thought, to let it rest this long. To let it heal before he broke it anew so the lesson would stick.

“When you’re strong enough,” he said softly into its ear, “We’ll try again.”

Even in sleep, the thing shuddered.

—--------------------------------

“Please,” Elijah was begging him, struggling, “I can’t do it again. I can’t. I won’t survive.”

He dismissed its terror with a flick of one hand. “The angel is weak. It won’t be like the first time.” As he checked its restraints, he glanced up at it and added warningly: “You will endure.”

And Elijah did. Over and over, the ritual: the angel inside him, burning like hellfire in his screaming flesh, then flaring out like a dying star. It would escape Elijah’s body and tear itself open against the walls of their prison, forced back inside as the ritual looped anew. The two of them shattering together, then apart, neither of them made for this. Neither of them able to escape.

By the end of it, the angel lay cool and stiff on the white-tiled floor. The viewing windows were cracked where it had almost broken through the arcane barriers that bound it there, seconds before it had finally succumbed.

Elijah waited for it to get up. It didn’t. It was dead, but there was something else. A strange feeling inside Elijah, one it–Elijah–had no words to describe. Not just the sudden absence of agony; it was something more than that. Deeper. But it was hard to stay conscious, let alone think properly, and it let all thought slide out of its head with quiet despondency.

When it looked up again, its creator’s face was smiling at it from the other side of the glass. He looked pleased, and Elijah knew two things:

that the ritual had at long last been a success,

and that it was never leaving this place alive.

—--------------------------------

I will never let anyone shave my head again, he thinks, running his hands through the growing curls. He cannot see them, but feeling them is more than enough. I will never let anyone dictate what I wear, how I speak, who I am.

He still expects to wake from it, this fanciful dream of escape.

Although it has lain dormant in him for many years now, he knows the angel feels the same.

#rat.exe #scratchings #was this my writing tag? idk #okay to rb #vampunks

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