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#former worthless
livelaughwhump · 1 month
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what about elliot´s teammates having to restrain him for his own good, maybe he got flashbacks and got violent, like hitting his teammates and won´t calm down, i feel a lot of whump potential
i understand if its not your cup of tea in case you dont feel like writing it
Masterlist
Oooh, this is an excellent idea😈🥰 Thanks so much for the request!!
Content: flashback, knife violence, brief mention of blood, self-hatred, restraints, former pet whumpee
If I missed any content warnings, please let me know
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The team wasn't unfamiliar with Elliot's flashbacks. They were typically triggered by small things, like loud noises or dark rooms, and they all manifested the same way; with Elliot frozen in place, tears leaking out of the corners of his wide, unblinking eyes and unintelligible mumbling followed by intense trembling of his whole body.
The team had witnessed many of these, and they'd learned a few methods to help bring Elliot out of it. The first was that Elliot seemed to respond best to physical touch, usually in the form of someone gently holding his hands. The second was kind words spoken softly and calmly into his ear. Finally, the third was patience. It wasn't easy to bring Elliot out of a flashback, especially when it was triggered by something larger. So, in order to bring him out of it, it was important for whoever was with him to be patient and calm throughout.
But nothing, not even the gentle methods the team had learned, could have prepared them for just how bad his flashbacks could get.
Nothing was out of the ordinary. The day started the same as always; the team ate breakfast together in the living room, Elliot sitting on the couch with his single slice of plain toast and cup of peppermint tea. He ate quietly, while the rest of the team chatted happily, making jokes and laughing with each other. Normally, he'd only eat about half of it, but on this particular day, he ate nearly the whole thing and drained his entire cup of tea.
He handed Landon the small sliver of toast he hadn't eaten, just like he did every morning, and stood up to take his empty mug to the kitchen. Elliot liked the routine. It was familiar and easy. Not much was expected of him, but it was just enough that he still felt useful. He liked making his own breakfast and doing his own dishes. He liked not being expected to talk when he didn't want to. As hard as it was to admit to himself, he liked his life with the team. They were nice to him. He trusted them.
As he was washing his mug in the sink, he couldn't help but stare out the window. Spring was swiftly approaching and Elliot couldn't look away as the morning rays of sun spilled through the gaps in the tree branches. He longed to go out there, to feel the warm sun on his face and the gentle breeze whistling through his hair.
Elliot couldn't remember the last time he'd been outside. It felt like years ago. It wasn't like he wasnt allowed to go outside. Of course he was...right? He'd never explicitly asked, but surely his friends wouldn't deny him that right. It's just that it was too cold before, that's all. There couldn't possibly be another reason.
"Elliot?"
The sound of another voice in the quiet kitchen pulled Elliot out of the endless spiral that was his thoughts. He started and gasped, only then realizing that the sink in front of him was quickly overflowing.
"Ah! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Elliot exclaimed, quickly draining the water. His muscles tensed as he prepared to be hit.
"No need to be sorry, sweet," Broderick's voice said from behind him. Chills scurried up the back of Elliot's neck as he felt the looming presence of the medic but didn't turn to look at him. "It was an accident. Did you get distracted?"
Elliot suppressed a flinch. "Y-Yes, Sir. I'm so sorry. It-It won't happen a—" Elliot's mind went white as he felt Broderick's presence grow closer, the wood creaking beneath his feet. Elliot's whole body froze.
"El?" Broderick said. "You all right? You look a little pale."
Dull images flashed through Elliot's mind, none of which he could comprehend. They swirled together and dissolved like salt in the sea, invisible but impossible to deny the lingering taste. The sudden influx of repressed memories left a rotten taste in his mouth; memories of Christian softly approaching him from behind, touching him, dragging him to the bedroom, stripping him of his dignity. He couldn't take it. The panic set every nerve in his body on fire, and as Broderick's gentle hand fell upon Elliot's stiff shoulder, all hell broke loose.
Elliot swiftly turned and slapped Broderick's hand away. "Don't touch me!" He shouted, tears stinging his eyes.
Broderick backed up, eyes wide with confusion. "Okay, I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to startle you."
The next thing Elliot knew, there was a soapy knife in his hand. He didn't remember how it got there, but he shakily pointed it at Broderick regardless. "Get away from me!" He demanded, voice quivering almost as much as the knife in his fist.
Broderick was dumbstruck. "Elliot, I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm just trying to—"
"Shut up!" Elliot interrupted. "D-Don't come any c-closer! I'll k-kill you!"
Broderick took a small, risky step toward the panicked boy before him. His voice was gentle and soft as he said, "Elliot—"
Elliot didn't waste a second before he swung the knife, slicing a thin gash across Broderick's forearm. Broderick gasped and hissed and stumbled backward just in time for the rest of the team to spill into the room.
"What is going on?" Karine questioned. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight before her. "Elliot?"
Tears were steadily trickling down Elliot's face. "L-Leave me alone! I w-won't let you t-take me! I won't!"
"Darling, no one is taking you anywhere," Yvonne tried to reassure him. "Please, put the knife down. It's just us."
"I don't think he's seeing us, Yve," Karine whispered. "Landon, I'm gonna need you to try and discreetly sneak up behind him and grab the knife. The three of us will distract him."
Lyra was frozen in place, unable to process what they were seeing.
As Landon soundlessly slipped away, Karine held out her hands placatingly. "Elliot, buddy? I'm gonna need you to put the knife down, okay? We're not gonna hurt you."
Elliot took a step back, arms shaking. "I w-won't let you t-take me!"
"We're not gonna touch you, I promise," Karine said. "We just wanna talk. Please put the knife down. You're gonna hurt yourself."
Elliot stood his ground, completely unaware of the giant man looming behind him. In one swift movement, Landon grabbed Elliot and plucked the knife out of his hands.
Elliot screamed in what could only be described as pure terror. He kicked and flailed, his fist nailing Landon right in the mouth before Landon caught both of his wrists and manhandled him. Elliot fought with every ounce of strength he could muster.
"LET GO OF ME! LET GO! YOU CAN'T DO THIS!!" Elliot cried.
Landon wrapped him in a tight hug and whispered soothingly into his ear, "It's okay, it's okay. You're safe, buddy. You're safe." Over and over again.
Elliot's struggling didn't cease, and eventually, Karine had to grab hold of his flailing legs as well to prevent him from injuring anyone else, most of all himself. "Set him on the ground!" Karine shouted over Elliot's screams.
Lyra watched, tears blurring their eyes as Elliot was restrained and wrestled to the floor, all while sobbing and screaming and begging. The sight made their insides churn and their throat tighten.
Elliot sobbed and squirmed, but his fighting did little to free him. "P-Please, l-let me go. Wh-Why are you d-doing this?"
"You've gotta come back to us, buddy," Karine said in the most gentle voice she could. "You're home, safe and sound. No one is going to hurt you anymore. Just take a deep breath." Karine glanced over her shoulder at Lyra, who was still as a statue. "Lye? Can you grab us a weighted blanket please? Lyra? Lyra!"
Lyra snapped out of it, their focus shifting from Elliot to Karine. "Y-Yes. I-I'll be right back." They hurried into their room and grabbed the heaviest weighted blanket they had. When they returned, Karine had released Elliot's legs and Landon only had a loose hold on Elliot's upper half.
The boy had ceased his struggling and had instead dissolved into a sobbing mess. As Lyra handed off the weighted blanket to Karine, Landon released Elliot. The blanket was draped over Elliot's shaking body.
"Lyra? Maybe you should try to talk to him," Karine suggested.
Lyra nodded and kneeled down beside him. "Sunshine? Can you hear me?"
Elliot kept his eyes trained on the floor and the droplets of crimson that Broderick had left behind. The smallest nod of his head was the only response he gave.
"How are you feeling?"
Lyra didn't expect an answer, or really any kind of indication that Elliot had heard them. They weren't surprised when Elliot remained completely frozen in place, eyes unblinking and skin as pale as bone.
Lyra didn't push Elliot to speak. Instead, they sat beside him as he watched Karine wipe up the blood. Once the kitchen floor was no longer peppered with red, Karine excused herself and left Lyra and Elliot to themselves.
Moments after Karine's departure, Elliot said, in the tiniest voice possible, "Did I h-hurt him?"
His voice was so small and meek that Lyra wasn't even completely sure that they'd heard him. "What was that, El?"
Elliot took a deep breath and repeated his question, a little louder this time. "D-Did I h-hurt him?"
Lyra didn't know how to answer. They didn't want to make him feel worse by being truthful, but they couldn't stand lying to him either. "It was just a little cut," they answered, keeping their voice soft so as not to frighten him. "Broderick will be fine. He's a medic, after all. He's used to dealing with this kind of stuff."
Those words did nothing to ease Elliot's grief. "I hurt him," Elliot mumbled, his voice quivering almost as much as the rest of him. Tears flooded his blood-shot eyes and he sniffled. "I'm a b-bad dog."
Lyra didn't know what to do. It had been nearly a month since Elliot had last called himself a dog, and the last thing they wanted was for him to regress. Internally panicking, Lyra said, "It wasn't your fault. I don't know what happened, but I know it wasn't your fault."
Elliot's tears started to fall. "H-How do you kn-know?"
"Because I know you," they asserted. Elliot finally looked up at them, eyes watery and filled with regret. Lyra gently wiped his tears. "You're a good person, Elliot. A good person that's gone through some terrible things. You've been hurt and taken advantage of and abused, but you are still a good person and you always will be. You'd never hurt anyone on purpose, let alone one of us."
Elliot looked away. "Is he m-mad at me?"
Lyra shook her head. "He could never be mad at you. No one here could. We love you too much."
Elliot sniffled again and leaned his head on her shoulder. Lyra opened her arms and gathered him in a tight hug. He laid his head on her chest, his remaining tears soaking through the fabric.
"I've got you, sunshine," Lyra whispered. Elliot snuggled against her, curling up on her lap like a child after a nightmare. There was no place on Earth he felt safer than in her arms. She rubbed gentle circles into her back and carded her fingers through his hair. "I've got you."
-
Thanks so much for the request! I hope you enjoyed this! Also, please let me know if I have any typos. I didn't really get the chance to proofread this.
If anyone else has any drabble requests, suggestions, or questions for me or my characters, please send me an ask!
Taglist:
@l-antre-des-merveilles @pigeonwhumps @nicolepascaline @burningkittypoet @whumpinggrounds @suffering-and-misery @make-them-scream @honeycollectswhump @rabass @whumpdreamz @clairelsonao3 @ofclrosewriteswhump @cepheusgalaxy @pinkraindropsfell @mj-or-say10 @considerablecolors @whatamidoingherehelpme @whumped4whumplover @ladybizarre13 @theaustralianfrog @lavndvrr @bitchaknso
If anyone wants to be added to or removed from the taglist, please let me know!☺️
Or if you only want to be tagged in main chapters
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fuxkfacefave · 2 months
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The way that none of them have real names, like you get to hell and pick a new name immediately, I love it so much
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I love them
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yuridovewing · 2 months
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violetshine is fine, i think whatever issues shes got are just really shitty writing, but man i think i have this curse for wc where i am destined to prefer the sibling that the books + fandom insist have this fantastic life with no real hardship compared to the one being put through the meat grinder
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laurelwinchester · 3 months
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okay but seriously how many more chances does st*ph*n am*ll get? because i've had just about enough of this dude. this man:
verbally abuses his wife in public
is a loud and proud scab
tried to sue a beloved animal shelter
treats the crews on his shows like dirt
has done racist shit
has allegedly done or supported anti mask/anti vax shit
is deeply disliked by his peers
has no charm, charisma, or acting ability whatsoever
and yet he keeps being handed lead roles. did he make a deal with the devil or something? what kind of fucked up timeline is this?
i realize that he's a conventionally attractive white man so he can do literally anything and continue to have a thriving career and this should not be surprising to me but quite frankly making a deal with the devil makes more sense than that bullshit, so that's what i'm going with. it tracks. he's from toronto.
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wedefyauguryy · 2 years
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Hey are you alright?
haha no
#it’s complicated#well#not really#it’s a combination of 2 things#academic stress and body image issues#the former is mainly caused bc of a uni admissions test that I’m studying for which is not going well#and some of the problems that I can’t do will be in my school final exams#which are super important#and just generally the last year of school is super stressful#and i am losing all my joy for learning and doing math#and I think I’m stupid bc I keep making super dumb mistakes#and I’m scared I’ll fail uni math since I’m so bad at this math#also I have built my entire identity upon being smart and being good at math and now being bad it makes me feel worthless#the body image issues actually are kinda complicated bc I’ve been struggling with eating properly since 4th grade#and have cycled through many reasons for these issues#atm it’s mostly a mix of hating how I look and not feeling like my health is worth the time/effort/money it takes to make and eat food#and also I kinda crave the attention that not eating gets me from my friends#bc if I see that they worry abt me it means that they care#I know it’s silly#I know all of this is silly#also i feel like a terrible friend for a variety of reasobs#on the bright side I haven’t had suicidal impulses for pretty much exactly one month#so that’s good ig#anyways in summary I hate my body and my mind#i am in a constant state of guilt for eating/not doing work#and feel totally overwhelmed and useless and like a failure#sorry this was so long and entirely in the tags
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yandere-daydreams · 3 months
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tw - implied non/con, extreme pet play, dehumanization, psychological/physical abuse, and unbalanced power dynamics.
commissioned piece. donate to palestinians in gaza here.
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Sometimes, you really do think Suguru thinks of you as a pet.
It shouldn’t be as difficult to believe as it is. Of course you’d be less than human to him, less than equal to the god-like status he has among his followers. But, Suguru knows he’s not a god, and while you might not be the only person he claims to be superior to, you are the only one he keeps locked in a steel-barred dog crate padded only by thread-bare blankets and distant memories of what it felt like to sleep in a real bed. You’re special – albeit, not the kind of special you’d like to be. You can disregard most of his grandiose speeches about ‘complete non-sorcerer elimination’ and ‘killing off those worthless monkeys’ as the self-indulgent rambling of a deranged cult leader, but he doesn’t seem to be phoning it in when it comes to you.
He doesn’t talk to you. Communication occurs solely through blunt orders (come, sit, bark, etc.) or sweetened, syrupy baby-talk, cooed as his fingers card through your hair and pet down the length of your spine. You’re expected (something learned purely through trail and error, reward and punishment) to follow him around happily, to sit at his feet and clamber into his lap whenever his eyes find yours and he taps his thigh, that expectant smile already tugging at the corner of his lips. Depending on the day, you’re either coddled and adored like a beloved pet, allowed to walk on two legs rather than four and fed treats out of his open palm, or treated like a stray who’d wandered in off the street and refuses to leave. You do prefer the former to the latter, but it doesn’t really make that much of a difference, not if you’re being honest with yourself. Either way, you always seem to end up on your knees between his legs as he sits above you, a fist curled around your collar as he tells you to lick, puppy, lick.
Speaking of – you’re not allowed to wear clothes. You used to hate it, to steal his shirts and hide in closets, to do anything you could to salvage what little pride you had left, but it’s hard not to get used to something forced onto you so constantly. The only thing Suguru’s ever given you to wear is a simple, black, leather collar – studded with silver spikes and drawn tight enough to bite into your throat when he pulls on it, which he does often. You’re thankful he doesn’t make you wear those cutesy animal ear headbands or, god forbid, a tail, but not as thankful as you should be. As unbearable as it’d be, having him dress you up like a cat or a dog or some wide eyed, sexed-up rabbit would take the edge off. Like this, it’s harder to believe he thinks of you as an animal, as something cute and small and vulnerable that he can love and care for. It’s harder to deny that he knows you’re human – he just doesn’t see why that would ever mean you couldn’t also be his pet.
You think, when you’ve exhausted all other silver linings, that it’s (partially, at least) his excuse to keep you. You know what he does to people who aren’t like him, you’ve seen what he’s like at his worst, and you know that, if you weren’t his pet, you’d just be another non-sorcerer, another nuisance the world would be better off without. If you’re a pet, you can’t be a person, and if you’re not a person, it means he’s not going against his warped ideals when he pulls you close to his chest, when he ghosts his lips over the top of your head, when he fucks you so softly and so gently, you can almost believe he cares whether or not you enjoy it. Pets are supposed to be loved, and so he’s not doing anything wrong by loving you.
You know what would happen to you if you weren’t his pet, too, if he couldn’t make excuses for himself. You’ve seen how wide his smile can be when he comes home with blood on his clothes, how little effort it takes for him to hook his hands under your arms and carry you to his bed, already muttering about how perfect he’s going to make the world for his pretty, precious pet. You’re not allowed to leave his cramped apartment, but he talks about putting you on display for his acolytes as he ruts into you with an almost animalistic brutality, about showing all of those filthy, degenerative insects what a well-trained mutt looks like. You know that you should do more to fight back, that your humanity should be worth more to you than a few half-hearted escape attempts and the occasional pained whine, but you’ve seen see what he can do, heard about the dismembered bodies he leaves to rot in a ditch behind his temple, and—
And, no matter how much you hate him for it, no matter how much you hate yourself for it, it’s true.
When it comes down to it, you’d rather be his pet than be nothing at all.
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bitterkarella · 1 month
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Midnight Pals: Child Actors
[mysterious circle of robed figures] JK Rowling: hello children Rowling: did you hear? daniel radcliffe and emma watson sssupport transs rightsss? Rowling: i will NEVER forgive thisss betrayal Rowling: from hellssss heart i ssstab at thee!!!
Rowling: don't they undersstand that I own them? body and ssoul? Rowling: they are ssstill in my thrall! i never gave them clothessss! Rowling: i'm pretty sssure that child actorsss work the sssame way as houssse elvess
Rowling: i mean, if they apologized i would not accept it Rowling: in fact, let me show you how it would play out Rowling: pretend that daniel radcliffe isss sssitting in this empty chair and i'll show you what i'd sssay to him
Rowling: sso daniel, emma we meet again Rowling: you might think you are allowed to have independent thoughtsss but you forget Rowling: your contract sspecifiess that i own you BOTH, body & ssoul, FOREVER Radcliffe: i don't think it says that Watson: yeah that doesn't sound right
Rowling: oh you don't do you?? well then just take a look at Rowling: uhhh Rowling: [rifling through papers] Rowling: i know that claussse is in here sssomewhere
Rowling: what the hell??? thisss contract says NOTHING about perpetual ownership of harry potter actorss! Rowling: how isss thisss possssible??? Rowling: get my lawyer on the phone, they are ssso fired
Rowling: ugh this contract is worthless!! i don't even get perpetual ownership of miriam margolyes! Rowling: you've won thisss round, children Rowling: BUT Rowling: i will fight you on the internet Rowling: it will be a cold day in hell before JK Rowling logsss off
Daniel Radcliffe: trans rights are human rights JK Rowling: ssoundss like ssomething a male predator would sssay Emma Watson: trans rights are human rights Rowling: sounds like ssomething that a confused female would ssay
Rowling: foolish child, we've just commissioned a sstudy that says child actorss brainss don't mature until 21 sso you're not allowed to have opinionss Radcliffe: i'm 34 Rowling: [hastily amending study] did i say 21, i meant 34
Rowling: i'm very concerned about the prosspect of irreverssible damage if former child actorss are allowed to have opinionss, so i'm lobbying the government with my billionss of dollarss to make that illegal Rowling: for their own good, of courssse
Rowling: i mean, emma & daniel might SSAY that they're autonamouss beingss capable of forming their own opinions Rowling: but why should we believe them? Rowling: also i heard there was a former child actor who committed a crime once Rowling: think about it
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edenesth · 4 months
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The Way to His Heart [9]
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Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader
AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 4.2k
Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.
Part 8 | Fic Masterlist | Part 10
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Standing in front of the door to your former prison, all your insecurities came rushing back. Suddenly, your newfound identity seemed to evaporate, leaving you feeling like nothing more than a shell of your past self.
"What's wrong, my dear? Why do you keep staring at this storeroom, hm? You know you can tell me anything." Seonghwa asked in a gentle voice, sensing that you were far from okay. He cupped your cheek tenderly, urging you to meet his gaze.
Jongho and Eunsook stood anxiously behind you, waiting for you to reveal the truth to the general. Only then could they finally bring your family to justice for their misdeeds. The weight of everyone's expectations rested on your shoulders.
Please, mistress, just say it, and we will handle the rest.
No matter how hard your husband tried to capture your attention, all you could see was beyond his shoulder, where your family glowered at you. All the determination you had to confront your family diminished, and you were reminded of your true self.
Just a worthless, insignificant piece.
You felt undeserving of Seonghwa's love, too ashamed to confess that this pitiful excuse for a room was where you had spent your entire caged childhood. Would he still want you as his wife if he discovered the truth?
"Come on, my dear. Talk to me, please." The general leaned in, attempting to dominate your field of vision. He didn't like how you kept glancing nervously back at your family as if still afraid of what they could do to you.
Your husband's heart shattered as he gazed once more into your vacant, hopeless eyes. It felt as if he could never truly connect with you. Once again, he found himself lost, unable to reach you. It became clear that your biggest obstacle wasn't trusting him; it was trusting yourself. Despite all his efforts, your insecurities persisted.
Bringing you back to this place seemed like a colossal mistake, undoing all the progress you had made. The words Hongjoong had spoken to you were now pushed to the recesses of your mind, overshadowed by your demons.
Seonghwa's stomach sank when you averted your gaze, blinking your wet eyes with a shake of your head, "Nothing, it's nothing. I... I'm sorry, I don't know why I kept looking here; it's just an old storeroom, as you can see." Your family collectively sighed in relief, narrowly avoiding exposure. For once, they felt slightly thankful to you for not ratting them out.
Of course, it couldn't have been this easy.
Despite the internal frustration, the general flashed a reassuring smile down at you. His plan had crumbled, and you didn't speak up as he had hoped. The head maid and assistant couldn't conceal their disappointment at the missed opportunity.
Casting a glance at his assistant to silently acknowledge the failure of the plan, he squeezed your trembling hand, "It's alright, nothing to be sorry about. Well, if that is all, perhaps we can begin discussing the wedding arrangements then."
Minister Jang immediately brightened, "Of course, let us get on with it. I'm sure we have much to discuss."
With a subtle shake of his head, Jongho signalled to the private investigator that the plan wasn't unfolding as expected. Noticing the exchanged glances, your father raised an eyebrow, "Wooyoung, do you and the general's assistant know each other?"
Both froze momentarily, cursing inwardly at their lack of caution. The fake servant beamed innocently at the minister, "Oh yes, master! I thought he looked familiar; turns out we were from the same village!"
The assistant nodded along quickly with a wide smile, "Yes, what a small world."
Fortunately, the fabricated story seemed convincing, and your father nodded without suspicion, "Huh, what are the odds? Just don't let me catch you slacking off. If you want to catch up, do it after work."
Wooyoung grinned quickly, "Yes, master!" before bowing deeply. Glancing at the general for approval, he was relieved to see Seonghwa nodding lightly, silently expressing 'good job'. His heart raced, still finding it surreal that he was looking at his role model up close and being acknowledged.
Resettling into the main hall, your husband couldn't hide his concern for you. He maintained a firm grip on your hand, a constant reminder of his presence and an attempt to provide comfort despite your lack of reaction to anything. Eunsook, noting your distress, made a point to stay close behind you, silently assuring you of her support.
"Alright then, where should we begin?" Minister Jang clapped his hands together, eager to get it all over with as soon as possible.
Seated opposite you, your three sisters were still seething, their attention fixed on the general's unwavering touch on you. Refusing to concede defeat, they were determined to fight for Seonghwa, unwilling to witness you marrying their dream man in a grand wedding ceremony. He was too good for you.
She doesn't deserve him.
Before the two men could delve into any details, Jinhee, tired of her sisters always being a step ahead, seized the opportunity to speak up, "General Park, I believe I would make a better wife than unnie ever could. I urge you to change your mind and consider choosing me."
Jinah and Jinjoo scowled, feeling a sense of betrayal as they hadn't anticipated the sudden spiritedness from their middle sister. She had always been the calmest among the three. It appeared that the allure of the general was potent enough to pit them against each other for the first time.
The minister smacked a hand on his face in disbelief, growing tired of his stepdaughter's obnoxious behaviour. Just as he opened his mouth to reprimand her, the other two chimed in loudly, "No, I'd make a better wife!" before glaring at each other.
Pressing a kiss onto your knuckles to rile them up, your husband stared at the girls with an amused grin, "Really? Do you think you'd make a better wife? Why don't you each tell me why you think so? I'll consider it."
It was apparent that the general was merely toying with them, but the three were oblivious and engaged in a heated debate among themselves, striving to convince Seonghwa that each of them would make the ideal wife for him.
Meanwhile, you silently accepted your fate, believing that your husband was present to entertain the idea of replacing you with one of your stepsisters. If that's what he desired, who were you to object? You considered yourself fortunate to have been sent to him, and now that he had seen your sisters, perhaps he sought someone better than your useless self.
The general burst into a fit of vicious laughter, singling out the middle sister who promptly straightened up, "You," he pointed, "it seems like you have the most convincing argument. I suppose that makes you the most suitable for me, doesn't it?"
Jinhee vigorously nodded, "Yes, my lord!"
With a sly smile, he continued, "Very well, I'll consider marrying you, but on one condition that your father must agree to," Her eyes widened in excitement while her sisters clenched their fists in frustration, dissatisfied with her being chosen, "Anything! Just name it, and you shall have it!"
"If Minister Jang agrees to retire from his position and let me take over, then I guess I'll think about it."
Your father heaved a deep sigh, frowning at the foolish girl in irritation, "That's enough, Jinhee. Are you even hearing yourself? None of that will ever happen. I'm sure the general is only joking around."
Her stubbornness prevailed as she continued to press, "Father, this is for my happiness! If you loved me, you would agree to that!"
Even her own mother, finally sober enough, shook her head disapprovingly, "Stop it, Jinhee. Do you know what it would mean for the rest of us if your father were to retire?"
Having enjoyed the comedic display, Seonghwa chuckled darkly, "Your father's right; I was only playing with you. After all, I couldn't possibly marry you, even if he had agreed to that condition."
"Why is that?!" She questioned, still determined to have him for herself. She hated the sight of him cradling your hand; it should be her beside him. She had gotten so close to having him earlier that she refused to let the opportunity slip away so quickly.
For some reason, the minister couldn't shake off the ominous feeling he was getting from your husband's smugness. Something wasn't right; this felt oddly like a trap.
In a mock-innocent voice, the general answered, "Isn't it simple? Because you're not even Minister Jang's legitimate daughter; you do realise you're merely his stepdaughter, right?"
Your father and stepmother's eyes immediately widened, knowing exactly where this was going. Before they could do anything to stop it, Jinhee yelled out, "But I am father's real daughter!"
Gotcha, bitch.
Jongho and Eunsook did their best to suppress the growing grins on their faces, relieved that at least their master's plan B seemed to have worked out. During the assistant's time away from the estate, working with Wooyoung, they had managed to confirm the general's suspicions about the three being Minister Jang's actual daughters.
This revelation itself was enough to bring him down, as the three were born when your mother was still alive. And if they were, in fact, his, that would mean he had been disloyal to his wife and had fathered bastard children outside. This was more than enough to tarnish his reputation for good.
Rising abruptly from his seat, the minister cleared his throat loudly, "General Park, please don't take her words seriously. Clearly, she only said that out of desperation. The girl is still young and doesn't know when to stop; do not mind her. Come, let us take our discussion somewhere else."
"Save it, minister. If she isn't your daughter, where would she have gotten the confidence to voice that out loud? Don't make me laugh." Seonghwa retorted coldly.
Finally, you lifted your head to stare at the old man upon hearing the revelation. Could it be true? You didn't know if it was supposed to make you feel any better, but you used to question why your father had treated you so badly when you were his only real daughter. Now, it would make more sense, at least.
Scoffing, Minister Jang clenched his fists, "I would advise you to be careful with your words, general. After all, it wouldn't be too wise of you to slander your father-in-law and superior so carelessly like that. What would His Majesty think of you being unfilial and disrespectful to me?"
If your father thought that threat could save him, he was wrong; it seemed he was only digging himself a deeper grave.
The general peered amusingly at him through his lashes, "You know, it's really funny you should say that. Would it still be considered slander if I had evidence to back up my claims? Oh, minister, you should not have brought the King into this. He was already so disappointed in you when he learned of the truth about you and your dirty deeds throughout the years."
"Wh-what do you mean by that?" The minister stammered, visibly trembling in his spot, and his family could only sit back with terror in their eyes, not knowing what your husband had uncovered.
"Minister Jang, did you really think the King had allowed me to come here just to make wedding arrangements with you? I'd rather burn in hell than have you host my wedding, especially after what you had done to my wife in all the years she had been under your care. I'm only here for your confession, under His Majesty's orders."
A series of gasps rang across the hall as your stepmother and stepsisters froze in their seats, the realisation finally hitting them that they had been under scrutiny this whole time. It became apparent since the minister's suspicious behaviour at the assembly.
Little did everyone know that Seonghwa's investigative work had been funded by the King himself the entire time. The two had shared a deep conversation after the assembly; what initially started off as idle chatter regarding the general's new wife transitioned into a serious discussion as your husband revealed what he discovered about the minister thanks to your arrival.
Your eyes widened at Seonghwa's words, wondering if he had known all along about what had happened to you. Feeling your gaze on him, he turned to face you with a soft smile, "I told you I'd protect you."
Feeling your heart flutter and eyes tearing up with tears of relief, you finally squeezed his hand back, "Thank you, Seonghwa."
Cutting your moment short, your father shook his head in denial, "You're lying. Nice try, General Park. I'm not falling for your trick. If you were telling the truth, why would His Majesty have bothered to send you here when he could have just arrested me?"
Turning back to face the old man, your husband smirked, "Now, where would all the fun be in that? Of course, I didn't expect you to admit everything to me so easily. It was fun watching all of you panic in front of the so-called storeroom earlier. I hope you enjoyed the temporary relief, courtesy of my lovely wife. Someone, bring the minister a chair before we start recounting all the interesting things he's done so far."
Jongho was more than happy to help, "Yes, sir!" He promptly moved a chair to the centre of the hall where the minister stood before returning to his position behind his master.
Your stepmother and stepsisters remained glued to their seats, hearts filled with dread. Jinhee regretted her every action immediately, not that it made much difference. They were already doomed from the moment they delivered you to him.
"Will you not sit, Minister Jang?" Seonghwa teased, and when the old man glared at him, he shrugged, unbothered, "Suit yourself. Let us begin then."
The general stretched a waiting hand in his assistant's direction and waited as the younger man fished a few documents out from his pockets, "Here you go, sir."
"Alright, let's see, where should we start?"
With a devilish grin, your husband flipped through the pages, addressing the minister, "So, were you denying that these three are your biological daughters? Not to worry, I have just the thing to prove it. See, we have their birth certificates and the fake ones you forged right here. You bribed your physician quite a bit for these, huh? Well, it seems the amount you paid was not nearly enough since he spilt everything to us so easily."
The minister's wife pointed a shaky finger at the papers in Seonghwa's hands, "Th-that's not possible. How did you get your hands on those documents?"
"Ah, so you admit these are yours?" The general raised a brow, "I get it; it's hard not to when the only copies to exist were found in your private quarters, hm? I'll have precious Wooyoung to thank for these. Come here, boy. You should be so proud of yourself."
"Thank you, my lord! I'll work harder!"
In front of the minister and his family, the mole finally unveiled himself. All five of them could only gape at the new employee who had recently joined the estate. They praised him for his work and even thought of him as a hard worker. Suddenly, it all made sense why he always seemed too eager to help around. He had been snooping around for the enemy all along.
Your father pointed accusingly at the fake staff member of his estate, "Y-you traitor—"
"How can he be a traitor when he was never on your side to begin with? Let's not change the subject, alright? Now, let us conclude the number of crimes you've committed here; first, you've cheated on your wife and had not only one but three illegitimate children outside of your home. I must say, minister, you're setting a horrible example for the married men in all of Joseon." Seonghwa shook his head in disapproval.
"Next, you've bribed your physician to silence him and then get him to further commit the crime of forging official documents for you. I guess this could have been understandable if it had been a silly little commoner not knowing any better, but my goodness, you are our nation's Minister of Military Affairs! What would the people think of us if they knew their leaders were this unethical?"
"And the worst of it all, you kept my wife caged in that pathetic excuse of a room all her life. You all had a hand in her suffering and abused her endlessly, all for your own entertainment. And what had she done that was so wrong to deserve any of that? Just because she was born from the wife you did not choose and love?" The general spat, feeling his heart ache and anger rise.
It was your turn to rub a thumb softly over his skin to remind him that you were fine now; you were loved and cared for, all because of him. He tightened his hold on your hand, vowing to get you justice.
"Can any of you even call yourselves human?" He growled, glaring at your family. Your stepsisters trembled, avoiding his death stare, feeling like complete idiots, especially after their stupid little innocent act earlier. Why did they even believe for a second that they could have fooled him?
With a deep breath, Seonghwa put on a sarcastic smile, "And with all of that, it should be enough for you to be stripped of your title and for your entire family to be demoted from a noble house to commoners."
The old man's knees went weak, and he ended up plopping into the chair Jongho had placed behind him. Clenching his fists, he shook his head again, "No, you can't do this to us. You can't do this to me. I've dedicated my life to this job and this country. I have contributed so much—"
Smirking, the general cut him off, "Why? Are you unsatisfied with this conclusion? I expected no less from you, you ungrateful bastard. Fine, I guess we'll have no choice but to dive deeper and talk about your most severe crime then."
There's... more?
Furrowing your brows, you wondered what other horrible things your father could have possibly done. Everything that your husband had already listed seemed like a lot to you.
Your stepmother gasped loudly, clutching onto her chest as she took in the general's wicked grin, "He knows..."
Jinah frowned, grabbing her mother's arm in confusion, "What is it? What does he know? What else has father done?" The other two sisters stared at their parents, who looked scared for their lives.
"Yes, I do know, Lady Jang. Did you really think the two of you could keep your dirty little secret hidden forever? As if adultery and illegal document forgery weren't bad enough, you were both audacious enough to commit murder against an innocent person."
Minister Jang and his wife shared a horrified glance, realising that the veil of secrecy they had meticulously woven was now unravelling before them. The colour drained from their faces, and beads of sweat formed on their foreheads.
The mistress of the Jang estate stammered in fear, "N-no, that's not true! You're making baseless accusations, General Park. We haven't committed any murder!"
The general remained unfazed, a cold stare fixed upon them, "Really? You haven't? Then tell me, why do the two of you seem so afraid? You weren't trembling with fear when you poisoned the first Lady Jang to death, and you certainly weren't afraid when you robbed my wife of her mother."
Staring at your father and stepmother in horror, a wave of disbelief crashed over you. The revelation hit like a tidal wave, leaving you stunned and paralysed. The people you thought were simply cruel for torturing you all your life had now revealed a more sinister truth – they were the reason you never knew your own mother.
The shock and betrayal etched across your face, your eyes locked onto theirs as the weight of their sins settled in. It wasn't just about the abuse and mistreatment; they had orchestrated a tragedy that deprived you of the one person who could have brought warmth and love into your life.
"And what evidence do you have to prove that?" The minister finally mustered the courage to challenge the accusations, still putting up a fight. His three daughters, nearly as shocked as you were by the revelation, couldn't fathom that their parents might have actually taken someone's life.
Seonghwa remained unyielding, maintaining his cold gaze, "Not to worry, I have it all right here." He gestured to the documents Wooyoung held, revealing a series of letters exchanged between the couple all those years ago detailing the best way to end someone's life and make it look like a natural death, as though they had succumbed to an ordinary illness.
"Isn't it an uncanny coincidence that the physician confessed to the first Lady Jang dying from mandrake poisoning, and simultaneously, there is an abundance of mandrake planted in your garden? Alongside these incriminating letters, everything aligns seamlessly. There's nothing you can say to undermine this evidence, minister. Would you care to explain your actions now?"
Minister Jang's face contorted with defiance and anger. He took a deep breath before finally admitting, "Fine, it's true. I did it; I killed that woman. But you have to understand; the first Lady Jang ruined my life. I never wanted to marry her in the first place. It was a political arrangement forced upon me to please her influential family. They held more power than I did at the time."
His eyes darted around, gauging the reactions of those present, especially his daughters, "I clawed my way up, working tirelessly to reach my position as Minister of Military Affairs. I didn't need her family anymore. So, I did her a favour – I ended her unhappy marriage and made room for the person I truly loved."
He looked at his current wife with a twisted sense of affection, completely ignoring the horrified expressions around him, "I had to make a choice for my own happiness. No one understands the sacrifices I've made for this family and for the sake of my love. It was the only way."
"If you hated my mother so much, why did you bother having me then?" You finally croaked, voice breaking as you choked back tears. Seonghwa pulled you close to him, never wanting you to go through any more pain alone.
Your father let out a scoff of displeasure, "I never wanted you. You were just another duty to please your mother's family. When she died, I refused to let any of them near you out of spite. You were a constant reminder of her, a spitting image that angered me every time I looked at you. That's why I hated you so much."
His admission hung heavily in the air, each word cutting through the silence like a knife. Your eyes, filled with sorrow, met his cold, callous gaze. Your husband tightened his hold on you, offering silent comfort as the painful truth unravelled.
"And there we have it, the confession His Majesty wanted. Royal Secretary Choi, did you manage to get all of that?" The general called out with a smirk.
To the minister's horror, the King's closest and most trusted aide emerged from the entrance, flanked by a team of royal guards, "I sure did, General Park. You've done well; we'll take it from here. His Majesty shall decide the Jang family's final sentencing."
« Preview of Part 10 »
As Eunsook followed her master's orders to assist you out of the hall and to the waiting carriage at once, your husband stayed behind to express gratitude to the dedicated private investigator.
"You've worked hard, Wooyoung. I assure you we will compensate you for your excellent performance. You didn't have to help us this far, but you did, and I appreciate it."
The younger man enthusiastically bowed, "It's my pleasure, sir! I'm a huge fan of yours; I think people don't appreciate you enough for defending our country! Those who think you are heartless are clearly mistaken. If only they'd seen you today. You are a wonderful husband, my lord. It's reassuring to know Lady Park has you."
Clearing his throat, the general looked away and fought the faint blush dusting his cheeks, "I'm glad you think so. I can only hope she thinks the same."
Wooyoung grinned, "I'm sure she does, my lord. I've seen how Lady Park looks at you; I can tell you mean a lot to her too," Seeing Jongho approaching to escort his master out, the informant bowed one final time, "It was an honour working for you, sir. Please don't hesitate to reach out if you ever need my services again!"
Seonghwa nodded appreciatively, "I'll keep that in mind."
Just as he turned to leave, the royal secretary came up to him, "Before you go, General Park, His Majesty wishes to meet you and Lady Park soon to discuss your actual wedding arrangements."
Nodding lightly, the general replied, "Got it, I'll see you then."
"Oh, and one last thing; I know you've both been through a lot, but the worst is over. I wish you and your wife happiness."
"Thank you, San."
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Y'all I'm not even gonna lie, this part literally gave me a whole ass headache LMFAO I hope this felt satisfying enough! Of course, we still don't know what consequences the evil family are about to suffer muahaha😈
Also, the second mood board depicting the general's estate is out! Go take a look if you haven't already!
As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3
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678 notes · View notes
kenjakusbraincum · 5 months
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Hi, i can’t help but request this because you write so beautifully.
So I just had the idea of a former ballerina being sacrificed to Sukuna. She does her work good and gracefully but she longs for old times where she was able to dance and feel like she’s flying again. So she does it in the evening in Sukunas garden. He of course notices and as culture lover he is he makes her his personal dancer. And a cute lil love story forms from this scenario.
I would be so thankful if you form this to a proper story because i don’t have enough imagination. Love your work
Thank you for the compliment! I apologize in advance for my butchered descriptions of dance scenes and hope you like what I came up with anyways <3
Swan Lake
Sukuna x Reader
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Word count: 6.3k
Tags/warnings: gn! reader but the words maid, whore and bitch are used, true form! sukuna, bullying, fluff with a very brief and soft smut scene at the end!
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Sukuna doesn't care where his servants come from. People get offered to him all the time, and he takes them when he feels his palace is understaffed. And that happens quite often, considering how eagerly Sukuna gets rid of his servants for the smallest inconveniences. His staff is disposable to him, having no value beyond the services they provide him with.
So he doesn't know about your past. He doesn't know you were once an esteemed entertainer. He doesn't know that you were touring the world, sharing your art with audiences of all different classes and ranks in society. He doesn't know you were once the star of the stage, hypnotizing people with the fluidity of your movements in rhythm with the music. He doesn't know you were snatched from fame, taken against your will and brought to him to pay your capturer's debt. You're not sure he's even properly looked at you, much less heard your capturer tell him who you are. You were that worthless to him.
Now you are but a maid. You spend your days on your knees, mopping blood soaked floors. At night, you share chambers with dozens of other servants. Privacy is a foreign concept in Sukuna's palace. You are not entitled to it even in the bathroom. Everything is shared for the servants. There's no space for you to even try to indulge in your beloved profession, even as a hobby. Except...
The garden. Most servants are in bed, prepared to sleep, but your eyes linger on the windows. In every way, going to the garden would be to your own detriment. Losing sleep was dangerous, it could lead to getting caught slacking off, or being ratted out about it. And the consequences for that... well. One could only imagine it wouldn't be a simple slap on the wrist.
Still, you longed for this. The work you did during the day drained you, it was repetitive and soulless. You weren't made to clean floors. You were made to dance, it was your destiny. Since childhood, you don't remember a period of time as long as this one, where you haven't had the opportunity to enjoy your passion. Tears stung your eyes as this revelation found you. Every day, you could feel your life slipping through your fingers. You were alive, but your energy, your liveliness, your personality, all of it was dissipating in the pools of blood you were forced to clean.
''Can you be quiet? Some of us are trying to sleep.'', a servant who sleeps in the bed next to yours snaps you out of your thoughts. You are sobbing. You apologize quickly, and snuggle in bed, trying to muffle the noises against your deflated pillow.
But sleep just doesn't take you that night. You grow more and more frustrated, as time passes and you toss and turn in bed. Eyes wide open, fixed to the window across you. The garden lures you, calls for you. Damn it. You have to try. This is not much of a life anyways, you think. Sooner or later Sukuna or Uraume would find faults in what you're doing anyways, and you'd be served for dinner. You don't exactly have a lot to lose.
Sneaking out of the chambers is easy. You spent your whole life on your tippy toes. No one moves in their sleep as you cross the room, open the door and slide through the crack. Quietly, you make your way around the mansion. Outside, you're greeted by a light summer breeze. The garden is eerily peaceful, lit by the moonlight in this late hour.
You start to warm up, hopping, circling your neck, swinging your legs. Feeling the stretches in muscles you forgot you had. The grass tickles your legs as you splay across the ground and reach for your feet. Then stand and shift your weight to your toes, feeling out how rusty you've gotten in the time you've missed out on practicing. It's not too bad.
So you start out slow. The music plays in your head and you mouth silently, counting the rhythm. Your eyes are glued to the ground, you're trying not to trip and fall on the uneven surface. Your movement feels as smooth as it did before, but you can't see yourself in the mirror to check your form. You close your eyes, surrendering to the cadence of your motions. The music carries you, and as you turn into a poised second arabesque, time seems to slow. It's only a moment, but when you turn back to continue...
Slam. So hard you start to fall back, but his arms catch you around the waist. If you weren't scared out of your mind you would've wondered how did he even show up there without you noticing. But of course, he's Sukuna. You look at him with eyes so wide you think they may fall out, and he stares back with an amused smirk. Then he bites the air in front of you, clanking his sharp teeth together, and you scream in response. His hand flies to your mouth in an instant and he shuts you up.
"Quiet now. You wouldn't want to wake your colleagues up, would you?", he tilts his head, observing your terrified expression. "Or do you want everyone to slack off with you tomorrow?"
"I-I won't slack off I promise!!!", you panic, hands shaking as you bring them up in a defensive stance. Tears pool in your eyes as you stare death in the face. He is... weirdly beautiful, lit by the moonlight. And he holds you sturdily, but gently. It doesn't hurt. And he doesn't seem particularly mad.
"Is that so?", he asks. There's a smile on his face, but it feels dangerous, threatening. Like everything else about him. "Then just what do you think you're doing outside at this hour?"
"I was- I was dancing -", you stutter, struggling to form coherent sentences. Why are you so close to him? You're pulled flush against him. You can almost feel his -
"I didn't know I had a dancer in my ranks. Why didn't you say so?", he says, and surprisingly lets go of you.
You're so sure he's playing with his food. You're so sure he's going to slice you into pieces. You've already crossed so many lines, broken so many rules. You look to the ground, only now remembering eye contact with him was strictly forbidden.
"Speak.", he growls, audibly irritated by your refusal to reply.
You didn't think he was genuinely asking. What the hell are you supposed to say? Why didn't you say so? Maybe because you wanted to see the light of day again? "I ... A lowlife such as myself has no place speaking to your Highness.", you duck your head low in an apologetic manner. And he seems satisfied, smiling playfully again. Except you don't see it, you feel it. Sukuna's presence pulls the most demeaning, self-depricating things out of people's mouths.
"Humble.", he comments and walks a couple steps around you. He's huge. "Go on then, dance for me."
You stand frozen. It's not that you're ashamed... you've performed for audiences bigger than you ever could've imagined. But the weight of his stare is harder to bear than that of hundreds. And the stakes are higher than ever. He has to like it, or else...
"Dance!", he orders sternly, and crosses his arms over his chest. So you give it your all. Remembering where he interrupted you, you get back into position and start. Dance. Your life depends on it, doesn't it? Well if there's one thing you can do to save your life it should be this.
But it's not like before. Fear seeps into every muscle in your body, and your movements are unsure. Every jump is fleeting, every landing shaky. Tears blur your vision, and it's so hard to keep your breathing steady when you're struggling not to cry. But you're a ballet dancer, you were trained to endure. You finish the variation, cross your legs and gracefully bow.
Sukuna watches intently with narrowed eyes, like a predator stalking his prey. You can't see the sly smile on his face, but you can feel it.
"I apologize, your Highness.", your voice trembles. "It wasn't my best."
Sukuna huffs in amusement and waves his hand dismissively. "Go to sleep.", he orders.
You bow before him again, and quickly turn back towards the mansion. You don't feel relief from his piercing stare until you disappear behind a corner in the hallway.
You can't shake the feeling when you're back in your bed, snuggled in the sheets up to your eyes. You just survived a close encounter with Sukuna. And he must've liked what he saw at least a little bit, if you're still alive.
The next morning, you wake up and start getting ready for work with the other servants. The bathroom is busy, and as there's little else to do in the servant circles, gossiping starts immediately.
"Did you hear the scream last night?", the servant taking up the sink next to yours says, tapping foundation into her skin.
"Screams come from Sukuna's chambers all the time. It must be a new pet getting used to him.", another one replies. You shiver.
"Everyone knows how that sounds. This was different!", the two maids exchange a look.
The second rolls her eyes. "So, he killed someone. Nothing new.", she shakes her head.
"No. Uraume would've called someone to clean it up immediately.", the first servant continues. You really, really wish they would just drop it, until... "Hey you.", she turns to you. "Your bed was empty last night, did you hear anything?"
Your blood runs cold. "I was... feeling sick. And went to the bathroom.", you say quickly. "I probably couldn't hear... over the sound of throwing up."
"Hm.", both of them look at you now. "Well you look sick too.", one of them says. "Be careful with work today.", then they finish up and leave. You breathe a sigh of relief and finish up getting ready.
The next few days pass spotlessly. You don't cross paths with Sukuna. But some nights, you feel his presence in the garden. You stretch and practice simple movements in the bathroom, when no one's around. And the variations, you save them for the garden. At night. The only time you feel alive, the only time you feel like yourself. Human. Free. You think you might just get away with no one knowing, but then...
He walks past you and another maid while you're scrubbing the floors in the hallway. Both of you freeze as he passes by, assuming a submissive position and greeting him. You pray he won't notice, pray he won't know you by your voice, but he stops. Right by you, and then there's a moment of silence. He lifts his foot, touching your chin, and nudges you to look at him.
"Oh.", you watch his stern expression soften. "It's a shame for a talent like yourself to waste away on their knees.", he says. You look to the servant next to you, and she mouths a silent 'what?' as she turns her head in your direction.
You swallow your shame. It's not the first time you had to in front of Sukuna. "Its an honor to serve you, your Highness, even if it's on my knees.", you say.
Sukuna hums. "What a good servant you are.", an amused smile graces his face once again. "Well, get to rubbing then.", he nudges your face back downwards with his foot, and walks away.
You and the servants keep rubbing intensively, until he's out of sight and a couple minutes have passed. Then she grabs you by your shoulders and gives you a look that is both terrified and angry. "You did what with Sukuna?", she asks.
You frown, offended. Why does everyone in this mansion immediately think of that? "He knows I'm a dancer.", you say simply and look back to the floor, rage brewing in your chest.
"When did you do it. Was it you screaming? Oh my god it was!", the revelation hits the servant and she puts her hands on her cheeks, looking at you in shock.
"It wasn't me!!", you lie, agitation showing in your voice.
"Does he really have two dicks?", she asks.
You drain the washing rug and smack her in the face with it. "You disgusting pervert, how dare you ask that about your master!"
"You hit me! Whore!", she smacks you back, but harder, and her rag is full of dirty water.
"I'm not a whore!!", you cry, and wipe your face with your dirty, wet hands.
"Dancer. Yeah right, I can only imagine!", she throws the wet rag on you, and it sits on your lap, soaking you in the nasty liquid. "And you're a liar too! How shameless!"
"What is this commotion about?", a voice calls from the back of the hallway, and you turn around with teary eyes. Uraume looks like a blob of white in your vision, nonetheless they're recognizable.
"Tell them! You hit me, you little bitch!", the servant slaps your shoulder. You don't have it in you to fight back. The injustice pains your heart, and you can't bear the embarrassment.
Uraume smirks, noting your disheveled appearance. Your whole uniform is soaked now, even your hair. There's a pool of water forming around you as the liquid seeps out of the rags. "Clean this mess immediately. Master will be notified of this issue.", they say, and walk past the two of you.
The servant looks at you with contempt burning in her eyes. Then spits in front of you. "Clean.", she says, takes the rag you hit her with and starts cleaning.
Sukuna sees you that evening. He sits on his throne, head in his hand, and looks down on you and the other servant. He hides his inner smile, the joy he takes in executing power over others. And it's you again. He asks what this is about, and the servant wastes no time pointing her finger at you, saying you hit her first.
Sukuna's critical stare turns to you. ''Is that true?'', he asks, scanning you from head to toe, noting the state you're in. He's not particularly happy to see you like that.
You timidly nod, admitting your fault in the situation. Your stare is fixed to the ground, where dirty water drips down from your soaked clothes. You smell, and look like a rat, all of that in front of Sukuna. You wish the ground would swallow you whole and spare you this humiliation.
But he knows you. You've captivated him. Otherwise he wouldn't have cared to ask if you have anything to say in your defense. You tell him, omitting the details of her perverse question, you simply say she was slandering his holy name.
Sukuna moves, leaning his elbows on his knees. You care about his name? How lovely. So what is this slanderous thing his servants fought about?
Silence. You and the servant exchange uncomfortable looks. If there was one thing the both of you could agree on for the day, it was that repeating it in front of him was too vulgar. With that, Sukuna quickly grows bored with the situation. When he raises his hand, both of you flinch, expecting immediate punishment. However, nothing happens when he flicks his fingers. You're dismissed.
Quickly, both of you scurry away, leaving the throne room and going back to your jobs. The rest of the day is harrowing. The rumor spreads among the servants quickly, and you are the butt of every joke. You hear whispering and giggling behind your back, and everyone's stares linger on you as you go about your day. The culmination happens next morning, when the servants are getting ready in the bathroom, and the insults start getting more direct.
''Show us how you dance for Sukuna, why don't you?''
''Did you take both at the same time?''
''He didn't like you very much if you're still working as a servant.''
And then everyone goes quiet. When you turn around, you see Uraume at the door, their eyes fixed on you. ''Come.'', they say quietly, and leave without waiting for you to catch up. Well, it seems your punishment is due. You gladly leave the bathroom and follow them down the hall, anything is better than spending another second with the other servants. But now that you think of it, where is the servant that shares your punishment? Have you even seen her this morning? Or after the meeting with Sukuna at all?
You turn a couple corners, and stop at the end of the hallway. Uraume opens the doors to a room, and ushers you inside. What is this? It's furnished. Modestly, but... You open your mouth to ask a question, but you're quickly cut off.
''Make yourself at home.'', they say, and turn their attention to you.
''What about my things?'', you ask, looking around the room, then back to Uraume.
''You won't need them. Do you have good table manners?''
''Uhh.. yeah... I think.''
''Great. You dine with Master Sukuna tonight.''
''Huh!?''
''Your outfit is on the bed, be ready by sunset. I'll come to pick you up.''
Then the door closes and you're left alone in your new room. This isn't what a punishment should look like. Not when a beautiful kimono waits on your bed. Not when there's a barre fixed onto a mirrored wall, and there's a box on the ground, and when you open it, you find pointe shoes. Multiple pairs. He didn't know what size to get you. Ribbons, a sewing kit, glue, scissors... everything you need to break them in. Under that, a simple black leotard and a wrap skirt. By all means... this looks more like a reward.
You try everything on, find the perfect pair of shoes, and test them. It's not a big room, but there's enough space for you to practice with the bar. For the first time in so long, time passes quick. You're doing something you enjoy. It feels like in a blink of an eye, your shadow gets long on the wall opposing the window, and you have to get ready for dinner. You put the kimono on to the best of your ability - you don't have the opportunity to wear it often as a servant, being usually restrained in a uniform. And then reality hits you. Sukuna wants to have you over for dinner. This... is this a date? Unless he was planning to eat you, but you suppose he wouldn't have bought you shoes and furnished a room specially for you if that was the case... Come to think of it, what are you eating tonight?
Uraume knocks on the door, and takes a long look at you when you open. They fix your collar and nod, taking off down the hallway and expecting you to follow. They lead you to the dining room, vast and expensively furnished. You hear your heartbeat drumming in your ears. You only let your eyes explore for a second, before you fix them back to the ground and lower your head in Sukuna's presence.
''Your Highness.'', you bow in his direction.
''Master from now on.'', he says, and stands up to greet you. Master. You've only heard Uraume, and occasionally his pets, when he'd walk by with them, call him this by this... less formal title. He towers over you as his hand touches your shoulder, urging you to turn around. You follow obediently, making a circle and displaying your outfit.
He hums in approval. "Suits you much better than a cleaning uniform.", he says, and pulls your chair out for you to sit. You mutter a quiet thank you and sit down, already overwhelmed by the interaction.
He sits on the other side of the table, facing you. You can't bear the intense eye contact, and the silence that spreads across the room. Your eyes are fixed to your hands in your lap. ''Don't be shy now. I didn't invite you to sit there and be quiet. I reserve such duties for my pets.'', he breaks the silence.
''Master. Sharing a meal with you is a privilege, and I want to thank you for that. I'm not sure I'm deserving of it, though, and how my company may be of use to you.''. The kitchen servants scatter around the table, bringing food and pouring drinks. Various appetizers decorate the table, and only now do you notice you're hungry. You shyly pick the foods that catch your eye the most.
And your humility draws out a smile from him. ''You are an artist. And I am a man who takes great joy in consuming art.'', he says, and taps his finger against his glass, watching you pick. He's getting to know you, through your taste in food.
''I didn't know that about you.'', you say and look to your plate. You feel your hand shaking as you reach for the cutlery. You know Sukuna is judging every move. He was in your territory when you were dancing, now you're on his. And he will recognize the smallest mistake.
''Oh.'', his tone changes. It sounds like he didn't particularly like that comment. He finishes chewing. ''Did you take me for a savage?'', he narrows his eyes. More food is brought to the table, plates come and go quickly as the conversation progresses, and the tension grows.
You stutter, reading his volatile mood. ''I've only heard rumors.''.
He huffs in amusement again. ''I've heard rumors about you too.'', he says, leaning into the table. ''To be fair, I was asking around.''. So he took interest in you. ''They say you were the best there was, until you got captured.''
You chew slowly, taking his story in. He continues. ''They asked about you. Asked if I knew where you are. I said no.''. Sukuna watches as you grow visibly distressed by the mentions of your team. ''The best there is? What a wonderful prize. I'd rather keep you to myself.''. Oh. So that's what this is about. He gets off on the thought of owning you, the best there is, just for himself. You curse whoever told him about you. ''You showed me your worst, and mesmerized me. I want you to show me your best. Dance for me. Convince me you're worth my patronage.''.
The servants bring the main dish, and your head droops, stare fixed into the finely decorated red meat. You touch it with your cutlery, feeling it's texture. Sukuna eyes you as you cut a slice and bring it to your mouth, expectantly waiting for your reaction. You chew slowly, savoring the taste, but your expression is puzzled. ''What is this?'', you ask. And to make sure it doesn't sound like you're unhappy, you cut another slice. Truthfully, the food is incredible, but... you can't quite place the meat.
Sukuna bares his sharp teeth in a grin. ''Veal.''.
The conversation steers into a different direction then, and you quickly forget about how powerless you felt just moments ago. Sukuna is nothing like you've imagined him. He's right, you did take him for a savage. After all, everything you've heard about him pointed to a monster, who only took pleasure in wreaking havoc and destruction. Now, you find him to be eloquent, knowledgeable, and quite sophisticated. In a way, he appears similar to the other people you've met through your job. But way more powerful, and with it, way more intriguing.
Once again, time passes quickly, slipping through your fingers. The dinner is over, and you're facing Sukuna at the door. He seems to be pleased with your company, if you can read his face at all. ''Should I consider my offer accepted?'', he inquires. ''Everything will be provided for you. You just have to dance.''.
Well, it doesn't sound half bad, does it? You're not sure if the terms of the offers convinced you, or his presentation during the dinner. It might just be him. He made you feel you wouldn't be a jester, but a respected entertainer. And not for just anyone, but for a man as thoughtful and cultured as Sukuna proved himself to be. ''For you, gladly. Master.'', you smile at him. And he smiles back, taking your small hand into his, and planting a soft kiss to your fingers. You bow to him, wish him a good night, and you part ways.
Later, in your new bed, you find yourself replaying the interaction. Tracing his features in your memory. It's the first time you've had the chance to observe him, without fear of consequences. And he was beautiful. So elegant in the way he dressed and carried himself. Like a true king.
From then on, life in Sukuna's mansion is a game. Sukuna courts you in his dining room, feeding you delicacies from all around the world Foods that are hard and expensive to come by, that you've never heard of before. He courts you with the things he allows you to do, and the gifts he gives you. You dance and eat and walk around his garden and library. You don't dine with him every night, but when you do, rest assured that a new outfit is waiting for you in your room when you get back from practice.
And you court him on the floor, with feathery leaps that leave him on the edge of his seat, and dizzying turns that force him to focus all four eyes on you. You court him when you finish the variation by bowing before him, on one knee, a breath away from where he's sitting. And when you look up at him, he sees a lover rather than a personal dancer. Even though he's never touched you, or pressed his lips to yours.
There is love in the foods he picks for you specifically to enjoy, and there is love in the way you let him watch you practice. Even if you mess up, misstep and fall out of rhythm. Even if you stumble and fall in the most unceremonious of ways. There is vulnerability in letting him see you fail. It only happens a handful of times, but when you slip before him, you feel more naked than you would ever feel with your clothes off. And the relationship that the two of you foster grows intimate, despite the formal distance you keep from each other.
And that distance closes in, one day when Sukuna is there during a particularly nasty fall. You yelp when you hit the ground, and reach for your ankle, checking for injury. You only notice Sukuna when you feel his hand on your shoulder, and his brows furrowed in worry as his head looms over you. Your eyes meet for a moment, and you're hypnotized. Then you look away quickly, feeling your face heat up from the closeness.
''It's nothing.'', you say, and look down.
''Sure?'', Sukuna asks and stands up. You nod, and he offers you a pair of his hands, to help you stand. You take them, and he hoists you up effortlessly. And now you're face to face with his chest, and you're still holding his hands... ''That should to for today.'', he says, and when you look at him, there's a tender smile on his face. It sounds like a suggestion, but you've learned Sukuna is subtle about giving you orders. You nod, dust yourself off and untie your shoes.
That night, you recall his touch on your skin. Long fingernails ghosting over your shoulder, sending shivers through your whole body. You never expected Sukuna to have it in him to be gentle. But, that wouldn't be the first time he's broken the mold you thought he fit. And now in the cold of night, you find yourself craving him.
The next time you're invited to dinner, the tension is almost unbearable. ''Aren't you a sight to behold?'', he tells you when he welcomes you into the room. He always gives you compliments, but tonight they weigh heavy on your heart. You look across the table and curse every plate and glass that stands between the two of you. You look at him with quiet longing, and you think he knows. Because his smile is victorious, almost teasing. And when you accidentally hit his leg under the table, you start to credit it less to his size, and more to him deliberately crossing into your space. Subtlety is not a word you ever thought you'd attribute to Sukuna, but it seems this is the way you've established communication. You resist the instinct to remove your leg apologetically. So they stay touching.
Unfortunately, this little interaction slowly turns your brain into mush. By the last bite, your hand is trembling and you know you don't have the precision to pick up the last piece of food with your chopsticks. So you leave it on the plate, and wait for a moment when Sukuna is at least a little bit distracted, to attempt eating it again.
But such a thing doesn't happen. Today, he looks at you like you're the food on his plate. "Come on, eat it.", he nods in your direction. You can't read his expression, but it seems benevolent.
"I'm so full.", you make up an excuse.
"Just one strip.", he nudges your leg under the table, and you flinch, cheeks heating up.
"I.. I think I'll combust.", lies.
"I'll be offended.", Sukuna plays along with your game.
"Ah...", he wins, and you pick up your chopsticks with shaky hands. But as hard as you try, the little piece of food keeps escaping you, traveling through the plate.
"What makes you so flustered today?", he asks. "Is it the leg?". You blink at the plate, and feel your face going as red as the wine in your glass. "Come.", he waves his finger at you. You lean into the table, used to following his commands. And in no time, he is looming over your plate, one hand picking the last piece of your food with his chopsticks, and the other gently taking hold of your chin, nudging your mouth open. You part your lips obediently, and he places the bit onto your tongue, never breaking eye contact. His face is mere centimeters away from yours, observing you as you chew.
And the moment you've swallowed, and opened your mouth for air, he seizes you in a kiss. Slow, as he tastes your lips, and lets you adjust and catch up with him. He feels you go tense with the initial shock, then relax in his hold and kiss him back. His tongue brushes past your lips, and you think you'll sink right through your chair, and into the earth beneath the floor. The taste, the smell of him, so expensive and intoxicating. If this moment could last forever -
Foolish you. So much stress and tension, and you barely notice how quickly it passes. , how quickly his lips leave yours. His eyes scan your face, making sure you're alright, and then he's back in his chair. "There.", he says, "Have something to be flustered about."
That night, you think about his lips, slipping away from yours and moving to your neck, collarbones, shoulders. Not stopping until they've explored your whole body and touched your soul.
In the meantime, you practice your chosen choreography to perfection. And when you're standing in his throne room and awaiting the music, and your deciding performance to start, it's the first time in a while that you recognize feeling nervous. Uraume is there too, and his other disciples and guests. But he is the only one that matters. The only one your life depends on. Although the times when your life was truly on the line are long gone, Sukuna is still your patron, and now it's your turn to either satisfy or disappoint him.
The music starts, and the nervousness wanes as you start dancing. Sukuna's gaze is heavy, critical. He's seen you do this times and times already, but now it's final. Now, he's telling you, ''Bewitch me.''. Now, you're joining it together, one seamless show just for his enjoyment. And with every spin, you keep your eyes fixed on him. Enticing him with your movement, seducing him.
And for once, time passes quick for Sukuna as well. He finds himself lost in your dance. In your quick glances, in the way your body moves, contorts, withstands your weight on your tippy toes with so much grace and fluidity. You make it look easy. You nail the landing you failed so many times before his very eyes, perfectly, effortlessly. He almost wonders if you fell intentionally when he was watching you. And he's captivated. By the end of your performance, you earn his smile. You earn the clap of his hands, you even earn his standing ovation. The king himself, honoring you with the highest form of praise.
''It takes quite a performer, to entertain a crowd all by oneself.'', he comments later, over dinner. ''You've convinced me. You're worth keeping.''
''And when I can't dance anymore?'', you ask.
''You'll still be able to eat with me.'', he says.
At the doors, he bends down to kiss you again. You anticipate it, and accept it, kneading your hands through his hair. He asks if you're tired, and you shake your head no. He asks if you want to come with him. Yes, please yes, you've wanted to for so long. You almost thought he'd never ask. Again, his face lights up in a victorious smile.
He walks you through the halls, to his quarters of the mansion. Vast, and decorated with various works of art. They hang on the wall, or stand on the cupboards in forms of statues of various sizes. Sukuna likes to collect things, if that wasn't evident by your presence in the mansion.
''You're dragging behind. Did you have a change of heart?'', he asks, and extends his hand towards you. You step closer, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. You're standing at the doors of his bedroom.
''I was just admiring the interior.'', you smile at him, and take it upon yourself to cross the doorstep. His bedroom overlooks the garden, through a tall set of windows, little plants sitting on his windowsill. And his bed is massive. You think it could fit four people of your size. But then again, Sukuna is not a normal sized person. Your hand finds the mattress, testing it's sturdiness. And when you turn around, he's right behind you. Towering over you, and forcing you to look up at him, like the king he is. But you're not scared. You have no reason to be.
''Lay down.'', he orders, but his voice doesn't sound stern. Still, you obey, climbing into the bed. And he follows, letting you ease into the pillows only for a moment, before he settles above you, urging your legs apart. You welcome him, finally feeling the closeness you've been craving for so long. His body, big enough to enclose you completely under him, so carefully pressed against yours. Light enough not to hurt, but heavy enough to establish power. To give you what you want, what you've craved for a very long time.
He never lets you forget whose grasp you're in. He folds your smaller body with ease, adjusting you to his liking. And you let him, trusting him with your body and pleasure. He takes you gently, slowly, making sure you're comfortable in the process. You feel so full of him, but it's not enough, not enough until all of your senses are overwhelmed with him. You feel up his muscled arms and back, wrap around him, pull him closer with every stroke, every swipe of his lips against yours. Sukuna draws the moans out of you with practiced thrust of his hips, hitting spots inside you you didn't know existed. In no time you're seeing stars - his four eyes, never leaving yours as you come apart.
And Sukuna is stoic for the most part, but by the end of it, even he is loosing his composure. Hungry moans slip past his lips, his brows furrowing as he concentrates, trying not to let out too soon. You encourage him, babbling sweet nonsense into his ear. This flustered Sukuna, completely engulfed in the chase of his own pleasure, is as close as you've come to seeing a god. Moments later, his hips still, and you feel his muscles tense as he reaches completion, deep grunts filling your ears like the sweetest music.
You lay in his embrace, and trace your fingertips over his tattoos. Your stare is fixed on him, as he tells you various anecdotes from his long lifetime. You enjoy the opportunity to admire his beauty from up close. His eyes, so unusually benevolent as they stare outside the window and turn to you from time to time, to check if you're awake. The curve of his nose, the glimpses of his sharp teeth, his strong, masculine jawline. He is an art piece on his own.
After a while, he notices you struggling to stay awake. His hand on the back of your head nudges you to lay on his chest. He whispers you a good night, and runs his hand through your hair as you drift off. It's been a long day you've dedicated entirely to him, so he finds you worthy of this special treatment. After all, it isn't often that someone claims the title of both Sukuna's personal dancer and his lover, much less in the same day.
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void-wolfie · 6 months
Text
it's hard when i hate myself.
summary: those bad thoughts in your head get a little too loud one day, and you can't take it anymore...
pairing: jenna ortega x gn!reader
tw: self-harm, depression, suicide attempt (if any of these topics are triggering for you, please do not read)
words: 1.88k
a/n: i wrote this for @nofreakinglooseends, hope this lives up to your expectations bub...
*** if you have experience with depression or suicidal thoughts, or if you find any of the above topics triggering in any way - please do not read, these topics are written about in detail below (you have been warned) ***
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No one cares.
No one likes you.
You're just a burden.
You paced the bedroom floor, hands gripping the sides of your head as you wondered why your brain hated you so much. You knew the thoughts weren’t true, your friends really did care, they had told you so themselves. Yet, it all felt like one big lie.
In the midst of your pacing, something caught your eye. You looked up only to spot yourself in the bedroom mirror. For a moment, you were caught off guard; you didn’t look like yourself anymore. Dark circles under your eyes, hair that hadn’t been brushed in days, pale skin, and lifeless eyes. You looked like a shell of your former self, barely even recognizable.
When had it gotten this bad?
The floodgates opened. The thoughts came barreling back. Too loud to ignore this time.
Stupid.
Mistake.
Failure.
No one cares.
No one gives a shit.
Better off dead…
You started pacing again, a bit faster this time, praying that the voices would all just go away.
Your mind slipped to your girlfriend. She always seemed to know how to help. What would she say right now? Your mind was blank, you couldn’t think of anything. Then again, it was impossible to think at all with the voices shouting in your head, screaming about what a burden you were.
Jenna doesn’t even care. Why would she?
She only stays with you out of pity.
She doesn't care.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” you muttered to yourself, tears beginning to slip down your face, “Just shut up already!”
Call me if you need anything. That’s what Jenna told you earlier before leaving for work. You could sense the full-blown breakdown on the horizon, just minutes away. But you shouldn’t call her, right? She doesn’t need your problems right now. She already has enough to deal with at work as it is, she doesn’t need you making things worse…
She doesn’t love you.
She probably wouldn’t even pick up the phone if you called.
Lies. It was all lies. Jenna told you she loved you every morning and every night. She was there for you all the time. Of course, she cared… right?
“Fuck it,” you grabbed your phone from the nightstand, finding her contact and hitting the call button.
You sat on the edge of the bed, knee bouncing up and down anxiously as you listened to the dial tone.
Once… Twice… Voicemail.
“Fuckkkkkk,”
You redialed the number, hoping Jenna would pick up.
She doesn’t love you.
You don’t deserve her.
She can do better.
“Come on, go faster…” you muttered, your knee bouncing faster as you waited for someone to pick up.
Voicemail. Again.
“Fuck!”
Maybe the voices were right. Maybe your mind didn't hate you, maybe it was just telling you the ugly truth… Your friends don't care about you. Your girlfriend doesn't love you. You’re just a worthless nobody.
You shot up from the bed; anger and panic flooding your mind. Not even realizing what you were doing, you threw your phone across the room. You didn’t particularly care. Your mind was on autopilot.
Tears rolled down your face and you could barely see through the blurry vision.
Maybe it would just be better if you weren’t around anymore. Maybe it would be better if you were dead.
Dead. It was terrifying how much the thought of being dead didn’t bother you. The idea was almost welcoming. You wouldn’t have to suffer anymore, just peace… Peace sounded nice.
"Fuck!" You couldn't take it anymore. The voices were too loud, you couldn't think. Everything hurt. You needed to do something.
You rushed to the bathroom, the tears running down your face made it hard to see. You yanked open the cabinet drawer, digging around for where you hid it. Your fingers brushed against the cool metal, you raced to grab it without caring how it dug into your hand, nearly drawing blood.
You sunk down to the tile floor, rolling up the edge of your shorts to see the fresh cuts. Red lines spanning an inch or so long, each one scabbed over and bruised. You eyed an untouched spot between two red lines, before you could think you pushed the blade in, dragging it across the skin.
Blood trickled down the side of your thigh and onto the tile floor below, but you didn't care. Your mind was finally at ease.
It hurt like a bitch. But at the same time, the pain was comforting. Just for a while, it distracted your mind, easing your racing thoughts.
You looked down, eyeing the cut, the long trail of blood that cascaded down the side of your thigh.
Looking at it seemed to make it hurt worse. It made the voices come back. The cut was just a looming reminder of what a failure you were. But that’s all you were anymore. A mistake. A failure. A nobody.
You eyed the razor blade in your hand. Part of you knew you shouldn’t, it was a bad idea. But the voices were so much louder, so much more convincing. Your head was spinning…
Fuck it.
You dug the knife into your wrist, dragging the blade up towards your elbow. It had to be close to three or four inches long, the blood seeping out nearly instantly. It hurt worse than the ones on your thigh, but you didn’t care. If you were lucky, you wouldn’t be able to feel it soon anyway.
You did it again, taking the blade and dragging it up the other arm. Blood was dripping all over the floor, all over yourself, but you couldn't care less.
Her stomach twisted into knots; her hands shook as they gripped the wheel. She only left her phone for like ten minutes, maybe twelve at most, and in that time, she somehow had two back-to-back missed calls from you. She tried calling you back but to no avail. That’s when the panic set in. You rarely ever called her, and you never missed her calls.
She drove like a madman trying to get home. She was definitely breaking more than one law. Other people were honking, even flipping her off as she drove past, but she paid them no mind. The only thing she could think about was you.
Jenna fumbled to unlock the door; her hands were shaking. It took her longer than she would’ve liked to admit to get the key into the lock. Her mind was a wreck, her head was spinning, and all she could think about was you.
The second she was over the threshold she was calling out for you, praying for some sign that she was crazy and that you were fine.
Unfortunately, her prayers went unanswered.
She checked the living room first; it was closest to the front door. No luck, you weren’t there.
Then she checked the bedroom. She immediately noticed the dent in the wall; your phone lying on the floor underneath it, the screen completely shattered.
Just as quickly as she found your shattered phone, she noticed the light from the bathroom. The door was wide open.
Her stomach dropped; her heart was in her throat. She just knew something was wrong.
The first thing she saw was you sitting on the bathroom floor, unconscious. Then she noticed all the blood. It was everywhere. You were practically sitting in a pool of it.
The razor blade was still lightly clutched in your hand, the cuts going up your arms were an angry shade of red. Your shorts were hiked up, showcasing a sea of white scars and a slew of new cuts.
She wanted to puke.
She knew you were struggling, but she never knew it was this bad.
She took a deep breath, swallowing down the bile in the back of her throat and suppressing the tears that threatened to break free.
Everything hurt. Your head was pounding, and the dim lights felt too bright against your eyes. The bed underneath you felt stiff and uncomfortable. All your muscles ached.
Despite the way your muscles protested, you pushed yourself up on the bed, propping yourself up on your elbows.
The first thing you noticed was that you weren’t home, you were in a hospital room. A rather small one. There was the bed you laid in, a small bathroom off to the side of the room, and a TV hanging on the wall. But most importantly, sitting in an armchair underneath the window, was Jenna.
She was lying sideways on the chair, her head draped uncomfortably over one arm of the chair while her legs dangled off the other, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Even from a distance, you could see the dark bags under her eyes, like she hadn’t slept in days.
What was more worrying to you though, was how you got here. Why the hospital? Did you get hurt? Was Jenna hurt? What happened? The last thing you could remember was going to sleep the other night, with Jenna curled up in your arms under the covers.
You looked down, trying to look for any obvious injuries. You quickly spotted the big gauze bandages covering the length of your forearms.
“Hey,”
You jumped. Your head shot up and over towards the window. You must’ve accidentally woken her up somehow.
Jenna was sitting up in the chair, looking over at you tired and worriedly. She looked exhausted.
“Hey,” Your voice was hoarse. Your throat was dry and sore, and it hurt to speak.
“How’re you feeling?”
“What happened?” You asked, dodging her question. You felt like shit, but you weren’t going to tell her that.
“You don’t remember?” Her eyebrows furrowed, confusion taking over her features.
“No…”
You had an idea of what might’ve happened. But you were hoping it wasn’t true.
“What’s the last thing you remember?”
“You came home from work. We ordered takeout for dinner and watched a movie, then we went to bed.”
Her face dropped. A bad feeling washed over you.
“Babe, that was a week ago…” Her voice was soft and quiet. You couldn’t tell if she was sad or scared, maybe both… Most likely both.
“Oh.” You weren’t sure what to even say.
Silence filled the room. It was painfully loud, nearly suffocating you in the tiny room.
You didn’t want to ask the question sitting on the tip of your tongue. You didn’t really need to; you already knew the answer.
Before you knew it, tears started streaming down your cheeks. You’d actually done it. You couldn’t believe it. You tried to kill yourself… You were at a loss for words.
You felt the bed dip next to you, Jenna sliding onto the bed next to you. She gently wrapped her arm around you, bringing you closer to her. You rested your head on her shoulder, the tears streaming silently down your face.
Jenna didn’t say anything, she just held you close while you cried. Comforting you in the only way her tired mind could think of.
Neither of you knew what was going to happen next. But Jenna was sure of one thing; whatever it was, she was going to be there for you every step of the way.
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livelaughwhump · 4 months
Text
Worthless - Part 21
Masterlist | Previous
Content: mention of past captivity, briefly implied past noncon, emotional breakdown, dissociation, former pet whumpee
If I missed any content warnings, please let me know
-
Elliot stared blankly into the fire, watching the flames dance and crackle and reduce the wooden logs to ash. A warm towel, fresh out of the dryer, was wrapped around his shoulders and a fluffy pillow was positioned beneath him as he sat before the fireplace. Elliot could hear hot water filling the tub from the bathroom, but the sound was distant and muffled and Elliot didn't pay it much mind.
Despite being sat in front of the fire, Elliot was still shivering. His sopping wet clothes clung to his underweight body and the snow in his hair melted and dripped down his face. He could hear people talking all around him, but his mind was too fuzzy and muddled to listen. His eyelids were heavy and his body felt weak and useless.
Elliot's thoughts were stuck in a loop, replaying the events of the past few hours over and over, unending. The warmth of the towel began to disappear the longer it was wrapped around Elliot's half-frozen body, but he barely noticed. He was used to the cold.
Yvonne slowly kneeled down beside him, careful not to startle him. "Elliot, darling? Would you like some hot tea? It might warm you up."
Elliot slowly turned his head to face her, but he wasn't fully present, and Yvonne could tell.
Yvonne set the mug down in front of him and gave him a warm smile. "I'm making soup for dinner. That might help too, if you want some."
Elliot didn't respond. Instead, he turned his gaze back onto the fire, letting the damp towel slip from his shoulders.
Yvonne frowned. "Love, is there anything you wanna talk about? No one here is going to judge you for what happened, if anything did happen."
Elliot didn't move.
"Yvonne," Karine said. "Just give him some space. He's probably dealing with a lot right now."
Yvonne sighed and stood up, leaving the mug of tea in front of Elliot. She motioned Karine into the kitchen, where Landon and Colleen were sitting at the table. Colleen had her arm wrapped around her brother as he laid his head on her shoulder.
Yvonne glanced back at Elliot from the doorway before she turned to Karine and said, "He hasn't said a word since we got back, Kar. I'm just worried about him."
Colleen looked up at them from her seat at the table, but didn't offer any input.
Karine nodded. "We're all worried, Yve, but he was just kidnapped again. We don't know what that creep did to him."
"Broderick said he didn't have any injuries, except for a couple minor scrapes and bruises," Yvonne pointed out.
"Yeah, but that doesn't mean he wasn't hurt some—" Karine glanced in Colleen's direction and then lowered her voice. "—some other way."
Yvonne rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I know, but what do you think I was trying to do? I just wanted to see if he'd open up a little. I wasn't trying to press him for details."
Karine sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Look, Yvonne, let's wait to interrogate him until after he warms up, okay?"
Yvonne grimaced. "What is it with you and coming down on me whenever I try to help him? Do you think you and Lyra are the only ones who can help him? I practically raised four of my siblings. I think I know what I'm doing."
Karine started to massage her temples. "Yvonne, can we please save this conversation for another time? I have work to do."
"What kind of work is more important than helping Elliot?"
"Nothing is more important than helping Elliot!" Karine shouted. Yvonne's eyes went round as she took in the force behind Karine's words. Colleen and Landon now both fixed their gazes onto Karine. They could all recognize the fury in Karine's eyes after she returned from interrogating Elliot's attacker, but she'd clearly been trying to hold it in.
Karine took a deep breath to regain her composure. "I'm sorry. I just don't want to smother him. The poor kid's been through enough. Let's just let him work through this on his own time. Like I said, we don't know what that man did to him."
Yvonne nodded. "I understand, Kar, I do. But he went through so much and had to deal with all of it all by himself. He's not alone anymore, though. He shouldn't have to deal with this by himself."
Karine suddenly looked exhausted. She ran a hand through her long, greasy hair and sighed heavily. "Fine. Do what you think is best. Just please be gentle."
The corner of Yvonne's mouth turned up. "I'll do my best."
. . .
Once Elliot was bathed and dressed in warm, dry pajamas, he sat on the couch beside Yvonne as she read to him from one of the many books she owned. The moment he'd been dressed, he was handed a fresh cup of tea, wrapped in a fluffy blanket, and sat on the couch in front of the fire. He didn't protest to any of it. He didn't have the strength, nor the energy, to do anything but let his body be moved and washed and dressed, like some kind of soulless doll.
Elliot could hardly pay attention to the words Yvonne was reading. His eyes remained trained on his cup of tea as he watched it slowly cool, not taking a single sip. The sun began to set, bathing the house in shadows. The fire helped to dry his damp hair and warm his frigid bones.
As Yvonne finished the chapter she was on, she looked up at him with concern in her eyes. "Did you enjoy that chapter, love?" His slow nod was almost robotic, like an involuntary response to a question he didn't even hear. Yvonne didn't know what to do. "Would you like me to read the next one?" Another robotic nod was all she got in response. Yvonne sighed, marking her spot in the book before closing it and setting it to the side. "Elliot, darling? Are you okay?"
She waited patiently for any kind of response, though she really didn't expect one. There was a glisten on his cheek, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. It was so brief that Yvonne wasn't even sure she had really seen it. Perhaps she was so desperate for any kind of response from him that her mind had started conjuring up its own.
Then, there was another one, and another. Yvonne tilted her head to get a better view of his face, and her heart dropped at the sight of the silent tears trickling steadily down his sunken cheeks. Her eyes widened as he slowly shook his head in response to her question. "Wh-Where's L-Lyra?" His soft, trembling voice asked.
"They're resting," Yvonne said. "They wanted to be here for you, but Karine wouldn't let them. They were exhausted and they wouldn't eat. They're okay, though. I promise."
Elliot choked on the sobs in his throat, a pathetic squeak coming out instead. "I-I'm so sorry." With those words, his walls completely broke down and tears burst from his ocean blue eyes, sobs erupting from his sore throat. He buried his face in his shaking hands, unable to quell the trembling of his muscles.
Yvonne scooted slightly closer to him, careful to still keep her distance. "Oh, darling. It's not your fault. You did nothing wrong." Elliot continued to weep, his chest and shoulders heaving all the while. Yvonne wanted to hug him, but she couldn't bring herself to invade his space without his permission. He'd experienced enough of that in his lifetime and she wouldn't disrespect his boundaries.
The concerned faces of Landon, Colleen, and Karine appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. Karine looked about ready rip Yvonne apart, but Yvonne paid them no attention, her focus trained on the sobbing boy to her left.
"Elliot?" She said gently. "Do you need a hug?" Almost instantly, he lifted his face from between his hands and reached out for her. Yvonne quickly wrapped him in a strong, warm embrace. She carded her fingers through his hair and rocked him back and forth. "Shh," she cooed. "You're okay. You're safe now, you're home. I've got you, love. I've got you."
Yvonne glanced up at where Karine was staring at her from the kitchen. Her facial expression softened as she watched Elliot melt in Yvonne's arms.
Yvonne glanced at the forgotten mug of cold tea on the coffee table and mouthed to Karine, Please, heat up his tea.
Karine nodded and quietly drifted over to them. She stared at Elliot's back with grief in her eyes as she took his tea back to the kitchen.
Yvonne rubbed Elliot's back. "Darling? Do you wanna talk about anything? I'm here if you do." Elliot shook his head. "That's okay. I've got you. I won't let go until you say the word."
"I'm-I'm so s-sorry," he repeated, his voice muffled against her shoulder.
Yvonne gently shushed him. "It's okay. You have nothing to apologize for."
"B-But..."
"Shh, it's okay. No one here blames you for any of this. We don't know how that man got to you, but getting kidnapped again is not your fault."
Elliot lifted his tear-stained face from Yvonne's shoulder and looked at her with wide, bloodshot eyes. "I-I wasn't k-kidnapped."
Karine paused in the doorway with Elliot's tea in hand when she heard that. Yvonne motioned for her to set it on the coffee table as she said, "What do you mean, love?"
"I-I wasn't kidnapped," Elliot repeated. His face turned bright red and he averted his eyes as he said, "I-I r-ran away."
-
A new worthless chapter that didn't take a million years to come out?! Shocking, I know.
I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it!
Taglist:
@l-antre-des-merveilles @pigeonwhumps @nicolepascaline @burningkittypoet @whumpinggrounds @suffering-and-misery @make-them-scream @honeycollectswhump @rabass @whumpdreamz @clairelsonao3 @ofclrosewriteswhump @cepheusgalaxy @pinkraindropsfell @mj-or-say10 @considerablecolors @whatamidoingherehelpme @whumped4whumplover @ladybizarre13 @theaustralianfrog
If anyone wants to be added to or removed from the taglist, feel free to let me know!😊
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bones4thecats · 2 months
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Hello! May I request headcanons for a fem!Giyuu reader and yandere!Poseidon from Record of Ragnarok? Thank you so much!
Poseidon Fighting Giyuu Tomioka! 'S/O'
Type of Writing: Request Name: Poseidon Fighting Giyuu Tomioka! 'S/O' Characters: Poseidon Requester: @a-bookworms-teashop
A/N: As I don't write yandere-stuff, I made Poseidon more canonical, since he seems like the kind of guy who has a yandere-vibe. And I know you Record of Ragnarok fans know what I mean
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🔱 Poseidon just wanted to go back to his castle under the sea and finish his duty, not participate in this useless trial of Gods vs Humans, it was obvious who was going to come out on top
🔱 As he sat among his fellow deities, he ignored the words of his youngest brother, not caring what human was up next in Ragnarok
🔱 But, once his brother brought up the fact that Brunhilde had added in another human, one to replace one that had gotten into an 'incident' and how they were specialized to fight Poseidon and Poseidon alone, he began to listen more
" Older brother, are you alright with fighting this human? " " I don't particularly care, they'll end up turning into complete dust in the end anyways. " " Alright then it's settled, Poseidon will be fighting against that wannabe human! "
🔱 Gripping his trident with more force, Poseidon stood and began to walk out the door, as the meeting had ended
🔱 But, he couldn't help but let his mind wander during his walk outside of the arena and into a more secluded area surrounded by water, his nature element
🔱 What kind of human could be 'specialized' to fight him and him alone? What kind of trick was that Valkyrie playing?
~
🔱 Once he heard the announcement of Round 2's ending; Zeus winning against Adam, Poseidon had to admit, he was getting quite energized as the thoughts of that human began to occur once more
🔱 How strong were they? What were they if they could challenge a God, nonetheless the Greek God of the Seas? And, most of all, just who was this human?
🔱 As the voice of Heimdall entered his ears, Poseidon began his entrance, allowing water to spill out and eventually separate for him to walk through
🔱 Poseidon stood and glanced around at the lowlife beings around him, these puny Deities and Humans were far from perfection, so how dare they go against him and try calling his name laced in their worthless filth?
" And the human going up against this graceful yet destructive God is one that has had stories told about them for many years! A human who has been hailed as a heroine to the many who served with them during Japan's Taishō Period in the war against man-made demons! The Water Pillar of the Demon Slayer Corps! And the human who was a key-instrument in saving millions of lives from the grasp of the former Demon King, Muzan Kibutsuji. It is my honor to yell the name of the one, the only, Y/N L/N! "
🔱 As the water began to expand and rush away from the entrance of the human side, Poseidon cocked an eyebrow lightly, nobody noticing, except for his eldest brother watching from his residence in Helheim
🔱 Where in Valhalla was this human?
🔱 All of a sudden, the sound of a sword being sheathed entered the many people in the arena's ears, alerting them. The only ones not being surprised being the human allies of Kojiro Sasaki, Soji Okita, and the eldest Valkyrie sister, Brunhilde
🔱 The water that Poseidon had summoned began to rush with the God's irritation, why was this human not showing their-selves? How pathetic were they?!
🔱 Then, without the will of the God of the Seas, the water calmed down with the tap of a blade's tip, which caused the God to turn around only to see a human standing at the foot of the arena with their blade out and touching the water's top layer with such delicacy of a butterfly's wings
🔱 Before he knew it, Heimdall had cleared his throat and croaked out a reply to this event
🔱 As the Nordic God spoke into his horn, you blinked at the God with nearly matching empty eyes, and he noticed how you held yourself, stiff yet loose, you must have fought many demons to get to the level of being a human worthy of fighting a God, huh?
🔱 Poseidon looked at you and twirled his trident before gripping it tightly, he was not about to lose to a human of all beings. But, he'd have to admit, having your cold eyes look into his was quite attractive
🔱 Maybe, since he'll win no matter what, he'll spare your life at a cost; that you become his and his alone. You were said to be specialized to fight him and him alone after all, what would make this any different?
Ready?
🔱 He was going to win this no matter the cost...
Set...
🔱 But he will give you a chance of life vs death, be his or die... and if you say no? Well... you won't be able to say no now will you?
GO!
Let the love-lit bloodshed begin...
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"All suffering originates from craving, from attachment, from desire." - Edgar Allan Poe
Exculpate: The Fall from Grace is an upcoming 18+ action packed and fantastical interactive fiction novel. Loosely inspired by media like “My Hero Academia”, “Bungou Stray Dogs”, “Jujutsu Kaisen”, “The X-Men” and “Titans”.
Tags: [Urban Fantasy/Sci-Fi, Romance, Drama, LGBTQIA+, Textbased]
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The Astra. In the years after the war it was a name that had grown familiar. A select group of individuals who had gained special abilities after the…incident. They are powerful. They are talented. They are gifted.
And you’re one of them.
Or at least you were around a decade ago. Before you made the mistake.  The type of colossal fuck up that blows up your apparently  flimsy life in a matter of minutes. The kind that has you running away and starting completely over. That kind.
Now instead of using your worthless ability to save people, you are stuck using it for much more…aggressive work. More effective work. Or at the very least work that pays better. The only cost seems to be your sorry excuse for morals. Trading your soul and sense of justice for a paycheck. What could go wrong?
It was manageable. Meaningful even. Something that gave purpose to the now shattered pieces of your life.
Everything was great.
...until you got a hit for the strongest hero in existence. Wonderful.
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Play a former hero turned assassin turned…“hero” but not really .
Customize your character’s name, appearance, personality, and gender identity.
Develop a better understanding of your dreadful ability.
Explore and navigate complex relationships with six unique romantic options.
Kill your former best friend and betray old allies and new ones alike!
Come face to face with your past (both the choices you’ve made and the people in it).
Repent for your mistakes…or continue making them.
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The Hero (Your Target): Maverick “Mav” Kingston (He/Him)
Maverick Kingston, your current target and the strongest member of Astra. The strongest, period. He is unstoppable - unreachable - unattainable. You would know as his (former) best friend.
Appearance: Maverick is the embodiment of “perfection” and that crosses over into his looks. He is roughly 6’1” and is quite lean. He has vibrant light blue eyes and a head of messy blonde hair that seems to always fall perfectly into place.
Personality: Maverick’s greatest flaw is undeniably his personality. To put it bluntly, he’s the best and he knows it. He manages to come across as nonchalant and egotistical on a good day - often just messing around or teasing both his enemies and coworkers alike, and while he can be quite charismatic, his laidback and annoying disposition tends to steer most people away. Although, you get the feeling that there seems to be something deeper lying beneath the surface even after all these years…
The Strategist: Carmen Reyes (She/Her)
Carmen Reyes, lead strategist of the Astra and to put it bluntly the only one with any common sense. She is an intimidating presence - although that might just be due to her title of the best hand to hand combatant of the Astra. You used to be co-workers and classmates but that was a long time ago.
Appearance: Carmen’s beauty is just another thing that adds to her imposing nature. She is roughly 5’11” and has spent years building up her muscular physique. She has curly dark brown hair that rests just below her chin and surprisingly sharp hazel eyes that seem to track your every move…
Personality: Carmen can be considered reserved and wise at best and completely distant at worst. She has a professional air to her that most officials and authority respect, but it can come across as aloof or boring especially when comparing her to the loud personalities that the rest of the Astra has. That’s not to say she is uncaring though - in fact she is arguably the most moral of the group - or at least she was back when you were a member…
The Heart: Silas Jones (He/Him)
Silas Jones, arguably the kindest member of the Astra. He’s excitable and naive - if not a bit endearing. He tends to act as the mediator between the public and the other members of the Astra when necessary. You don’t remember being particularly close with him back when you were in the Astra so it’s surprising how desperately he seems to want your attention now…
Appearance: Silas is roughly 5’8” and has dark brown skin with glowing silver marks scattered across his body. He has black locs that have been dyed red at the tips and dark brown eyes that seem to pull you in wherever you go…
Personality: Silas is easily the nicest of the group and can be quite soothing especially compared to the harsher personalities of the other members and higher ups of the Astra. He is incredibly open and energetic, if not a bit naive. He cares very deeply for the people around him and that clearly extends to you even after all these years. It does make you wonder why he is so interested though…
The Healer: Juno Aceso (She/Her)
Juno Aceso, head of the healing and medical department at Astra. She isn’t what most people expect when they hear the words “doctor” but she is a breath of fresh air compared to the rest of the group. You were close with her back when you were in the Astra…or at least as close as you can be with someone like her.
Appearance: Juno is roughly 5’5”. She has deathly pale skin and dark eyebags that frame her murky green eyes. Her straight chestnut colored hair lands right at her chest, though she usually keeps it up in a bun.
Personality: If Carmen is distant and Maverick is nonchalant then Juno is on a whole other level. She is practically apathetic with her laidback nature and tends to be quite removed from everyone else. That’s not to say she has no personality though. She can be incredibly snarky and sarcastic when she wants to be. Unsurprisingly, she seems the least invested in your return. Although you get an odd feeling whenever she glances your way…
The Star: Payton Monroe (They/Them)
Payton Monroe is nothing if not a star. They embrace the celebrity status that comes with being a member of the Astra with open arms. You weren’t particularly close with them back when you were in the Astra but you heard the rumors of their exploits…
Appearance: Payton is roughly 5’7” and seems to make it their life’s goal to make themself as appealing as possible. They have ivory colored skin and dazzling lavender eyes. Their hair is shoulder length and white with streaks of pink going through it.
Personality: Payton is someone who has no issue embracing the finer things in life. They are far more interested in the public image aspect of being a member of the Astra and that comes across in nearly every interaction. While they are quite flirtatious, they seem to hold no interest in pursuing an actual relationship. Maybe you’ll be the one to change that…
The Newbie: Amari Gray (Gender Selectable)
Amari Gray, the newest member of the Astra. Not much is known about them - they joined after you left and they don’t seem exactly interested in getting to know you. They tend to be annoyed with you more often than not but you get the feeling that they are that way with most people. Although, their constant avoidance towards you specifically is quite odd…
Appearance: Amari is roughly 5’3”. They have tan skin and sharp gray eyes that seem to be set in a perpetual glare. They have thick white hair that is currently styled as a short undercut. They have a few piercings and tattoos.
Personality: You don’t know much about Amari but one thing you do know is that they don’t like you. They are either actively avoiding you or are going out of their way to pick fights with you. They seem incredibly familiar which makes their determination on making your life miserable even weirder…
DEMO TBA
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brucewaynehater101 · 30 days
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Apologies if I'm remembering wrong but I recall you posting/reblogging a post of Tim being afraid for Damian after he became Robin, thinking Red Hood would redirect his ire to him
Let's expand on that, Damian finding out about all the horrible shit Tim went through and put himself through and beginning to dread being Robin more and more but not wanting to take it back because he doesn't want to add onto Tim's pain
((and also because giving up robin would make him look week, but that's just an excuse))
So Damian is wrecked with anxiety because when is the hammer gonna drop and he'll receive what Tim did?
And if Tim's inheritance is going to be his, that means inheriting all the labor he is endures when running Wayne Enterprises, and etc
And Damian—wrong as he is—thinking himself selfish for hoping Tim stays in the family just so the day he inherits his duties comes later
Damian bonding with Tim over pain the latter experienced and the former is certain he will as well
((and also imagine what will go through Damian's head if he were to find out Tim doesn't even consider himself an actual Wayne member and just a Placeholder to keep the family from crumbling to pieces like that other post, a Placeholder until Jason and Damian came))
((and suddenly his assassination attempts seem like all for nothing and even self-sabotage, woof))
Hello! It seems that there are two of my posts you're referring to here (which is super super cool). This is going to be a long post cause it inspired me to really look at their dynamic and explore it.
One post talks about how Tim became Red Robin and didn't choose another mantle. There's a few reasons for this (like not being able to step down from his role of helping Bruce), but the reason you're referring to is another theory of mine. Tim may be Red Robin to share the burden and pain being Robin entails. He doesn't want Damian to face it alone. By being Red Robin, he can shoulder some of the ire from Batman.
The other post has Tim, who signed himself up to being Jason's placeholder both in an out of the mask, seeing himself as worthless and temporary. Both of his roles, being Jason and being Robin, got filled by Jason and Damian later.
Now that we've got the background, I absolutely love your take on this. I will add a few fics that expand on this view, but I do want to talk about it more first.
Unfortunately, Damian is used to a lot of abuse before coming to live with the Waynes (I love good mom Talia, but training to be an assassin is still abuse. She could have good reasons, but it still hurt Damian). He probably felt that he needed to earn his place and fulfill his familial role as Robin. Even as he matures and heals a bit, he may be reluctant to let Robin go. That type of training and enforced dedication to family is not simple to let go (even from a purely emotional abuse standpoint without any of the physical abuse he likely endured [This can be another thing he shares with Tim and his reluctantance to let Red Robin go]).
Kids, like Damian, will see others in similar situations and try to avoid their fate.
What is more likely? Tim is just special in being a target of isolation and abuse, or that Damian could one day be treated the same?
There's a ton of interesting theories about roles within abusive families (my family was emotionally abusive fyi). The sad part is that some of the kids will follow the example of their parents and abuse their siblings. This is both because parents model behavior and as a survival technique to not become the scapegoat like that one sibling. Damian may have joined in on being verbally abusive for both of these reasons (as well as being an extremely traumatized kid lashing out).
As he grows older and gains perspective (as well as distance from his LoA days), he may reflect on his behavior and the treatment of Tim. Tim is also the closest in age to Damian. He might be around physically more than the other siblings (besides Duke). Perhaps Duke even points out the differential treatment. There's a lot of ways that the metaphorical ball could get rolling.
This could be where Damian starts to regret his actions toward Tim. It may start from a selfish place (which, survival is not selfish and being selfish isn't always bad) of Damian realizing the assassination attempts are self-sabotage (and I love this idea and reflection on Damian). This would then morph into a genuine relationship and reliance on Tim.
I imagine, with these circumstances, that Tim becomes an anchor and safe point for Damian. All of the siblings have varying effects on the others, but this would be separate from that. While Dick is Damian's harbor, Tim would be closer to a lighthouse protecting Damian from the rocky shoreline. Dick is a place to rest and heal. Tim is a warning and guide (feel free to reblog with how the other batkids would be with Damian or each other).
Continually, Damian wanting Tim to stick around the family for his own safety hurts like hell. This casts the older sibling guilt (of leaving your siblings behind in that damn house) in a younger sibling's shame. Depending on the age, the younger sibling might be angry the older left or ashamed they want to ask in the first place. As a middle child, that fucking hurts (my situation is a bit more nuanced than that, but fuck. Ow).
Anyways, tons of angst to explore there on both of their parts.
I sincerely hope that Damian gets a life outside of WE. I hope he at least has time to explore himself (and maybe get a different career) before ever taking up WE. Depending on Tim's role in WE, this may fuck him over. I would be down to read some fics that explore Tim struggling under WE (cause he was meant for the research labs and not meeting rooms) and his refusal to step down due to the pressure that would put on Damian's shoulders (I know Tim isn't actually CEO in canon, but it's good to explore how the expectation of taking up the family business affects sibling dynamics).
Fic rec time! All are on AO3
"Exit Strategy" by smilebackwards (Tim's plan to leave the Waynes creates the ability for Damian and Tim to bond [not that Damian knows this is the plan]. Hurt ensues).
"Taming a Baby Assassin" by nighttmr (Tim, after being notified that he's getting a younger sibling with Damian, decides he'll be a big brother regardless of the effort required).
"Some Common Ground" by Do_wa_diddy (Both Damian and Tim are used to cruel standards of training. The others do not understand this and try to limit how they train. This causes Tim and Damian to bond).
"Just Like the Movies" by faithms (Damian finds a flash drive of all the times Bruce has been horrible to Tim).
"The Study of Birds" by MaskoftheRay (Tim and Damian find a common interest in bird watching. It shows them slowly becoming closer despite the obstacles).
Last one:
"You'll Change Your Name or Change Your Mind (previous title: Tim Drake Learns to Set Boundaries)" series by samsamiam.
I wholeheartedly recommend this series. Basically, Tim sets boundaries for himself while offering Damian sanctuary (should the kid need). It becomes Tim protecting Damian even from Bruce. Very very very good.
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lexsssu · 30 days
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Amour (Claude de Alger Obelia)
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TAGS: Claude/F!reader, alternate universe, childhood friends, breeding, obsession, yandere, smut, drabble Ao3 ver. | Ko-fi | Commissions (OPEN)
It’s almost hilarious how at a certain point in his life he thought himself to be unworthy of love. That he didn’t need such a frivolous and fleeting emotion that served no purpose within the messy and undeniably dangerous world of royalty, nobility, and politics.
At least until you came into his life.
A disgraced princess of a fallen kingdom that could barely be seen on a map and the worthless spare prince made for quite a pair. 
You came to him when he was a young boy two years your senior, and you were a scared little girl sentenced to a life of servitude to your conquerors. Perhaps it had been fate taking pity on his miserable life when you were assigned to serve him.
For once in his life Claude felt warmth and softness from someone else other than his mother. Someone who had no obligation to look at him with kind eyes and treat him with such sincerity that sometimes he felt as if he was the one taking advantage of your kindness.
And even as he was engaged to that harlot Penelope Judith who clearly only had eyes for his older brother and the throne, he paid no mind to their schemes. 
When he did catch the two in bed together, Anastacius’ attempt to humiliate him further didn’t faze Claude one bit. Rather, it became the final nail in the coffin of grievances that he’d long harbored.
Claude de Alger Obelia ascends the throne on a bright and sunny day and simultaneously marries his childhood sweetheart, a princess of a conquered nation. 
The whereabouts of the former crown prince and his previous fiance had never been found. Rumors say that the two eloped together to live a humble life away from the burdens of royalty and politics.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“That’s it…Take everything I’m giving you…”
Claude grunted as he watched your eyes practically roll to the back of your head as he repeatedly forced his cock inside of you, trying to mold your cunt into remembering his shape.
His own eyes practically glowed in the dark as he committed to memory the sight of you during what was currently the best day of your lives. 
Years of scheming had finally paid off, and now there was nothing left to do but ensure that once morning light came, your child would already be growing inside your belly.  
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heartfullofleeches · 6 months
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Carnis [Yan Experiment] General Hcs
A little post exploring the character of my new love Carnis Warnings for Cannibalism, Self Harm and Murder.
• Carnis is a lab made Human/Cow Hybrid created with regenerative abilities for the purpose of organ harvesting to be used on ill patients and as a source of food for the population. A shy, anxious creature who only wants to be loved. They are one of around a dozen successful experiments and the only S ranking Hybrid with meat a similar quality to prime Angus beef. The project was shut down by higher ups after complications and the still living subjects were to be sold to the highest bidder. Through biting through their chains and the aid of a third party Carnis was able to escape before the auction. They are presumed to be deceased.
• Carnis knows very little about the human world. As they grew, it was imprinted into their impressionable mind that all they are is livestock. Due to this idea, Carnis may grow upset or feel they are worthless if Reader rejects their offers of fresh meat. They both reject the notion all they are is meat, and clings to it as their only way to get what they desire. Carnis believes love to be a reward for them to gain by doing everything in their power to prove their worth from sacrificing their flesh to keeping a tidy house.
• Carnis prefers they/them pronouns, but as long as they are treated well name/pronouns does not matter to them. She/Her and It are the only ones they don't like as the former doesn't feel right and the latter reminds them of their time in the facility.
• When under extreme bouts of stress, Carnis bites/claws at their skin sometimes until they see bone. The easiest way to negate these reactions is by holding their hands or if they are wearing something that belongs to reader as their scent calms them down and they would hate to get their blood on something that belongs to them.
• Carnis is not aggressive by default nor do they typically rely on violence to get their way, but if they see anyone attack Reader in any form they have little control on what their body tells them to do. This can be something as harmless as a friend teasingly pushing them. When enraged, Carnis will not stop until the threat is neutralize or if Reader is able to smooth them in time. Their teeth and nails are their primary weapons which they will use to rip out the jugular and face of their target. Will cry like a baby afterwards and immediately seek Reader for comfort for what they've done
• Carnis has a habit of repeating words they say and parroting what others say as well. This majorly stims from learning most of their vocabulary from researchers and guards they interact with. They have been shunned for this feat in the past and often try to think deeply before they speak with unfamiliar persons, but with Reader they are at their most relaxed and thus their speech is relaxed as well.
Another thing they only allow Reader to do is touch their hair, horns and tail. Their hair is the only thing that doesn't naturally regenerate which leads to them valuing it more than anything below Reader and their horns and tail have just always been a touchy area considering majority of the population don't have either. Playing in their hair or rubbing their horns are sure-fire ways to smooth them or help them fall asleep during restless nights.
• Junk Food and Candy has always been a luxury to them as their former caretakers withheld them a treats for compliance which is why they attempt to woo Reader with both. It is their go to method of cheering reader up when they are down - keeping various candies and treats on them at all times. Their idolization of sweet and treats runs so deep one reason they may fall for Reader is them just giving them a piece of chocolate.
[That's all for now! I'm literally so obsessed with this little sweetie so there will be more]
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