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nrdmssgs · 4 months

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Darker matters (part 7)

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Angst Pairing: Nikolai x Olga 'Zhar' Samoilova Summary: The rescue mission Warnings: Swearing, description of physical damages.

Author's note: I am sorry, if my Ghost is not great. Thanks: My very important people: @siilvan, @homicidal-slvt, @sofasoap and @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot. And my dearest @pale-elysium!

Despite his callsign, Snudge is a good fella: follows the orders, gets shit done and knows better than to ask too many questions. Maybe that helped him into Sedmis inner circle, that gathered around the monitors now. Despite their apparent winning position, everybody were silent, waiting for their bosses command.

“Can you believe it? The bitch is so desperate - she marches to my place with her mans favorite toy…” Sedmi sounds clearly amused, watching a combat helicopter, caught by both their radars and cameras.

Something doesn't add up in this whole situation: a spiced Lieutenant, even the one banished out of some special forces, not even trying to hide the start of their platoons attack, sounds off. But Snudge is being paid for an effective work - not for doubts. So he keeps his mouth shut.

They all watch as the base's air defense system, the one good enough to battle against several warplanes, takes the lonely enemy helicopter down. Dense smoke clouds engulf the shot down bird of iron, while it's still up in the air. Something turns the helicopter around with incredible force, tilts it nose down, and it disappears on the ground behind tall trees. Their cameras don't record sounds, so instead of a loud crashing noise, they hear only a distant echo.

It all feels so strange: one minute they foretaste a good fight with Nikolais army, and the very next minute it's all done. No battle, no nothing practically. One word gets stuck in Snudges head: anticlimactic.

Even Sedmi`s command to go fetch the bodies doesn't lift the mood in the room: everybody awaited at least some action. And their enemies turned out to be just a waste of space and time.

“Years of building your PMC, just for some girl to waste it completely in a few minutes. What a shame,” thought Snudge to himself, driving their transport to the destination point.

The dark pillar of smoke hides behind tall trees as they approach the crash site and Snudge winces at the mixture of smells of burning rags, metal, plastic and something else. The clearing where the wreckage landed is a scene of desolation, when they finally arrive. The helicopter lay twisted and contorted, its once sleek frame now a gnarled skeleton.

Snudge is one of the last to exit their vehicle and walk around scattered debris. The shrapnel of the missile, bits of molten metal, and the shredded remains of the helicopter's fuselage litter the forest floor. He turns over some smoking package with the toe of his boot and tries to read what is written on it.

“Snudge! Come here!” One of his squadmates calls him, and he comes closer to the helicopter. It's hard to see what's inside with the smoke clouding his vision, but he can make out the outlines of several bodies.

"Ever heard of this bastard, Krueger?” His squadmate drags one of the bodies away from intense smoke. Snudge shakes his head and his colleague grins, looking down at the corpse with a face covered with dirty and half-burnt tactical net.

“They say, ‘if it speaks German and you don't see its face - run as fast as you can’. Well, good news, Snudge: looks like this fucker won't speak anymore. You can take a peek.”

“Huge son of a-,” Snudge starts mumbling, but the words get stuck in his mouth as he peels back the net from the corpse's face.

He never saw that ‘Krueger’ guy, yet the face is too familiar. Snudge met this man for a good dozen of times on Sedmis personal bodyguards rotations. This is surreal, impossible even: the guy was supposed to guard one of Sedmis residences. Yet here he was, his bosses family bodyguard. Dead. Dragged out from the Chimeras helicopter. Fighting a wave of disgust, Snudge unbuttons the jacket on the corpse and his worst fear gets confirmed: before him lies not a Chimera soldier, but one of his own colleagues. Killed long before the crash and dressed up in cheap imitation tactical gear.

“High alert, everybody!” That's the last thing, Snudge hears before his first squadmate falls before him, shot right in the temple.

Suddenly, the tranquility shatters into chaos as a barrage of gunfire erupts from the surrounding trees. Bullets whiz through the air, ripping through foliage and flesh alike.

Snudge ducks down, scrambling for cover, his training kicking in. “The bitch was never desperate, she baited us, lured here to slaughter one by one,” cries out loud frightened voice in his head.

He sees his squadmates becoming disoriented, trying to identify the source of the relentless onslaught. Notices the assailants, camouflaged expertly among the dense foliage, picking off their targets with ruthless precision. Snudge can't think straight anymore, but his body automatically crawls under one of the cooling wreckages of the helicopter.

Anguished cries, mixed with the staccato rhythm of gunfire, create a chilling symphony of chaos and despair around him. It is only when all the sounds die, Snudges heart starts racing at a chilling thought: he hasn't reported back to the base, when he had a chance to do that while remaining unheard by his enemies.

In the dead silence fallen around him, Snudge hears approaching footsteps and a melody, whistled lowly. He covers his mouth with the hand and watches a tall Chimera mercenary checking on his colleagues and cutting the throats of those, who still breathed, when he came. Mercenary face is covered with a tactical net, so Snudge can't see his eyes, when he turns and looks in his direction.

“Krueger, three more minutes!” Shouts someone from afar.

Mercenary doesn't move. Only mumbles ‘es gab ein mehr…*’. Snudge gulps, remembering the last words of his squadmate. “If it speaks German and you don't see its face - run as fast as you can.” Only running is useless in his situation - the enemy is too close.

Suddenly, all the radios of Snudges group wake up with the loud “Group 1-3 report your status, over.” All the radios including his.

The mercenary with the covered face chuckles darkly and takes a step closer to where Snudge is hiding.

“Eckstein, Eckstein, alles muss versteckt sein…*” half-hisses, half-murmurs mercenary, approaching him.

Snudge closes his eyes, breathes in and turns on his radio to make the last report back on the base.

***

Olga breathes heavily, leaning against the enemy base wall. The sprint through a dense forest with brief pauses on more or less open areas, where the enemies could reach her only to fall to Ghosts sniping, was a good idea, but only in theory. In reality, her body deprived of sleep, food and water was on the verge of giving up.

It's been around fifteen minutes, since Zhar reached the base, but she is still shaking so hard - she can't even undo her west to readjust the gear.

“You'll need to lighten your loadout if you want to go in.” Simons' voice appears above her ears and Olga frowns.

“Didn't I command you to get the hell away, after you're done with sniping?”

“You didn't mention all the fun with Nikolais helicopter back then. Now I'm obliged to stay and witness his reaction.” Ghost ignores the irritation, that is clear in Zhars voice, and helps her take off the side part of the vest.

“My operation is not a Sunday fair, Lieutenant.” Olga grunts, but still takes out a printed base plan and starts tracing floor after floor with fingers, trying to decide, where can she use Ghosts help.

“... fucking Disneyland, if you ask me,” hums Simon, helping her with the other side part.

They were almost done with the planning, when someone barked ‘the fuck is this one doing here?’ from the darkness of the forest. Before Ghost could react, Olga straightens her back, her eyes growing cold, predatory even. This is not the Lieutenant, that left TF 141 once, anymore. Before Ghost stands the head of Chimera.

“You will address to my colleague using his rank. It is not ‘this one’, it is Lieutenant to you.” Her voice is cold and low - Olga always spoke quieter, when she was angry.

“Your Lieutenant is going to have Nikolai killed! Commander, dismiss him now! There's nothing, he can do, that I can't.” Krueger approaches them two quickly.

“I can watch and learn, without suffocating on my own ego, kid.” Ghost seems unbothered by the new face, even though that face is anything, but friendly.

“You say that again to my-”

“Enough!” Kruegers gun was meant to threaten Ghost, but Olga comes right onto it, ignoring the cocked hammer. She drags him far enough for Ghost to not hear, what she's about to say to her soldier.

When Zhar comes back alone, her face is a bit more colorful.

“He's always such a charmer?” Simon inspects his equipment, but notices Olga helplessly waving away.

“Krueger… deserves a much better commander. And I'm getting him one back today. No matter, what it takes.” Ghost freezes for a moment. He knows, it is not his time to teach Olga, so he just makes a mental note to watch her back today.

“Last thing, Simon.” She shows Ghost a photo of a man on her smartphone. “They call him Sedmi. The man, that took Nik. In case you find him first - Sedmi stays alive until I talk to him. I don't care, how intense he fights, I don't care, how much he insults you or your beloved ones - this man stays alive until I say otherwise. That's the only term, that I'm letting you inside on.”

Ghost nods instead of an answer: he was never too easy to provoke. Part of him wants to ask Olga to stay and let him do all the work, but he knows, she won't listen to him.

Two grappling hooks are launched synchronously: while Chimera groups are getting ready to infiltrate the base, starting from the ground floor - Zhar and Ghost are to make sure, enemy intel rooms are out of the game. After climbing up towards a dark window, Olga checks her watch. Ghost freezes, waiting for the command.

Concerned voices are heard from below, something heavy falls and rolls loudly across the floor. The next moment, an explosion thunders at the opposite end of the building. Zhar looks up at Ghost and smiles unkindly. The next time, she speaks, her voice sounds unfamiliar, although, the phrase she uses comes from their operations in the Task Force.

"Hell is empty, soldier."

***

Simon would never admit it, but it was nice to be part of a private military operation, away from civilians. Of course, Prices group was his home, but a complete freedom, he got with Chimeras, was, in its own strange way, intoxicating.

Remain unseen, and you can clean up room after room. Methodically and silently, just as he loves it. Ghost didn't even fire his gun - there was enough time to slaughter every last one of the enemies with a knife and a little bit of creative thinking.

Keep an eye out for Sedmi, and you can do as you please with others. Nobody cares, how ugly the aftermath of your work looks like - none of these nameless faces will ever be on news. At one point, Ghost and Zhar break in the intel security center with a few operators, monitoring video streams from surveillance cameras and reporting on Chimera groups dispositions. They neutralize two of the three operators and split: Simon works magic on the keyboard, trying to disable surveillance systems and alarms, and Olga rushes after the escaped soldier. She reaches him somewhere in the hall. Ghost turns to check on her and is relieved to notice that she has already knocked the poor guy to the ground. The soldier tries to defend his life with an entrenching shovel, that he got god knows where, but Zhar forcefully snatches the improvised weapon from his hands and hits him in the face with the tip of a shovel.

Watch Zhars six and everything will be alright. Ghost hasn't forgotten that. He watches as she turns guys face into a bloody mess of flesh and bones, growling, ‘these are my people, you're trying to hunt down’. He looks, even when her strikes lose any practical purpose, because the solder under her breathes no more. Simon turns away for what feels like a moment. But it is enough.

He hears a short curse and heavy stomping echoing down the corridor. When Simon finally turns off the surveillance system and runs out of the room, he sees a tall, heavyset fighter pinning Zhar against the wall and strangling her with the shaft of the shovel that was in her hands a moment ago. Ghost's hand is already touching the holster when Olga, with incredible effort, twists herself out of the soldier's steel grip. She manages to take a few steps to the side when her opponent throws a bloody shaft after her. It flies over her head and breaks half of the window glass behind her.

A cloud of glass engulfs her for a brief moment, and she covers her face with hands, losing sight of her opponent. And this is enough for his winning move: the soldier jumps up to her, grabs her by the shoulder and neck, and forcefully pushes her straight onto the broken glass still sticking out in the window frame.

With a quiet crack, the glass disappears somewhere under her ribs. Olga makes a strange sound: not a scream, but rather a hoarse exhalation, as if all the air was leaving her lungs at once. Ghost rushes towards her as fast as he can.

Krueger appears on the opposite side of the hall, pointing his gun at the soldier, pushing Zhars side down on sharp glass. All he sees is his commander in a need of help. He doesn't care for Ghost running to Olga and screaming ‘don't shoot’. Krueger pulls the trigger and his bullet is sent right in soldier's head.

The enemy freezes, opens his mouth, loses his balance and falls on top of Olga with his whole body, making the last centimeters of glass disappear somewhere deep in her flesh.

“F-f-fuck!” Simon pulls the dead body away from Zhar and feels, how his hands run cold, while her pupils grow wide.

All, Krueger saw was Olga fighting a soldier, not being able to push herself away from the window for some reason. All, Simon saw at that moment, were his own hands, removing side sections of her vest before the operation, leaving her without any defense in these areas.

es gab ein mehr - there was one more

Eckstein, Eckstein, alles muss versteckt sein - come out, come out, wherever you are

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idealisticrealism · 1 month

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TCL 3x04 thoughts

Ngl this ep was pretty epic. Spoilers ahead.

The main things:

In-universe, it has now been a total of about five days since the events of ep 1 (Arman going missing, Thony meeting Jorge and Ramona)

But sigh this ep really was the Thony and Jorge show, wasn’t it? I’ll admit it upfront, I enjoyed watching their interactions change through the course of the ep, though god it was hard not to think about how absolutely incredible it would have been to watch Thony and Arman being the ones dealing with this situation together instead. But putting that aside, it was interesting to watch her and Jorge go from shouting at each other (and kind-of shooting at each other!) and ordering each other around, to Thony realising he was going to help her, to him playfully teasing her (the idea of burying her in the desert now nothing more than a joke to him despite the fact he’d been completely serious about it only days ago), to his concern about her potentially missing Luca’s interview, to his reaction to her comment about ‘losing a brother’, to her challenging him again and him calling her out and then her acknowledging the terrible things that she has also done, to him awkwardly comforting her as she absolutely breaks down about everything being her fault (which was hard to watch but kind of warranted lol), to fighting for their lives together, to him seeing that she has the guts to be ruthless when she needs to be, to him immediately obeying her orders when they find Fi, to him watching her with respect as she saves Fi's life, to him bringing her van back to her and them bonding over both their success and the realities of life with little kids, to her trusting him with the vial and its contents… like damn, that was a lot of progression for one episode! Reminds me of how much her relationship with Arman changed over the course of the pilot (but idk, with its own different vibe-- not really any of that electric chemistry and feeling of meeting someone you were always meant to meet and who is going to fundamentally alter your life, like Armony had, but more like finding a kindred spirit in an unexpected place? Idk). But anyway, the exchange “I’m not the man you think I am, Thony”/”Well maybe you could be” compared with her 1x03 exchange with Arman “You’re not the man I thought you were”/”What am I then? Say it. You think I'm a monster” was definitely interesting and says a lot about how much Thony has changed since then. Her view of Arman changed over time because of how he got lighter and she got darker, and so they kind of met in the middle– whereas now, with Jorge, she is already so accustomed to his and Arman’s dark, morally grey world that it doesn’t scare her like it used to, and plus Arman showed her that even the ‘bad men’ of that world can be good in many ways, or can at least change for the better. In this ep Thony saw the playful side of Jorge as well as the kind side, and though there was plenty of the dark side too, it was directed at people who even she thought deserved it, in a form of justice. Meanwhile his view of her changed from thinking she was just an erratic, reckless mess who didn’t listen to anyone, to understanding that she’s brave and determined and capable, and that her actions have been driven by both grief and an incredible level of family loyalty. Plus, she proved she could handle the harsh realities of his world and that she wasn’t afraid to do what needed to be done, nor did she shy away from his own darkness. It must have been an absolute revelation for him to see her so calm and warm and at ease after her family was all reunited at home, and to realise that this is the real her, and that the near-feral creature he’d known over the past several days was purely a result of the incredible trauma and strain she was under. No doubt it’s during the events of this ep that his reported ‘fascination’ with her truly starts… and I guess we’ll see where it goes?

Okay seriously though what was with them using the song ‘Listo pa’ pelear’ as the example of music Jorge likes???? Aka the exact song that was used in the opening scene of 2x01, which was a montage of Arman cleaning in the prison??? I have literally listened to this song so many times that I thought I was having a stroke when it started playing in this ep. Does the music tech for the show just really love this song, or are they trying to subtly highlight the connection between Jorge and Arman??? I’m so confused

Yessss Thony handling a gun has been on my list of hopes for this show forever, because it’s visual evidence of her further progression into the criminal world (my dream of Mob Boss Thony is inching ever closer), and I’m just sad that Arman didn’t get to see it because he would have been so damn proud

Love Nadia going from 'holy shit’ (terrified) upon meeting Ramona and realising she’s Sin Cara to ‘holy shit’ (exhilarated) when Ramona blows up the sportsbook and welcomes her into the family lol. I think Nadia has a new idol haha

(Now I’m imagining the next Sin Cara meeting, with Ramona inviting Nadia and Jorge bringing Thony, and them all being one happy little crime family lol)

Man, there is no way that Fi and Chris are walking away from that super messed up desert journey without some intense PTSD. Like seriously, Fi looking around the van at everyone (including Chris) panicking and suffocating? That was freaking haunting, as was the macabre trail of bits and pieces (and the body) left behind by other immigrants in the desert. This show really does not pull punches when it comes to immigration issues and I respect that so much. (Also, the idea of border vigilantes is so absolutely fucked omg)

Ok I’m sorry, but no fucking way would Thony allow there to be an unbarricaded door in Luca’s room that leads to the outside of the house. Just nope lol, not a chance, but clearly its necessary for next ep lol so ok

Other stuff:

Our Adan is in the credits again; because of the photos, I guess? Also Nadia’s pic of Arman on the bike is a S2 BTS shot of Adan, I still remember seeing it for the first time :(

Speaking of motorbikes, I’d wondered what happened to the brief glimpse we saw in an early trailer of someone riding the bike Arman got at Bosco’s camp– never would have thought it was Nadia and not Arman on it though! Damn the writers are just making her even more badass

Is it sad that I recognised the location where Nadia meets the bounty hunter as the same spot they used for filming exterior scenes at Hayak’s truck depot (and which I'm 100% sure is literally on the studio lot)?

“We got a problem with Thony” lol how many times is Jorge gonna hear this from Dante? She’s already so notorious she gets first-name use lol

Ramona’s gallery is called ‘Sombra’, or ‘Shadow’, which is a cool nod to the shadowy world she operates in

Lol at the guys that drove Thony into the desert just yeeting her stuff out of the car and hightailing it outta there like "nope we ain't getting in the middle of this, byeee!" Lol

Love JD being just completely all-in for this family, and Chris calling him his Step-dad <3. Also damn that actor’s voice is just so incredibly soothing, I could listen to it all day

Nadia and “Auntie Kate” (lol) have the same kind of snarky antagonistic vibe as Garrett and Arman. But lol about time they froze Kamdar’s accounts, Nadia should have never even had access to them in the first place given their estrangement and how he died. I feel for her though, going from rich to desperately scraping for money to rich again to having nothing again, poor woman must be so stressed haha. Though I guess she’s getting a nice little chunk of insurance money now , so all good again lol

“Where are you from?”/“Las Vegas” Wooo that’s right, Vegas is her home now!

Omg the happy family reunion, my heart!! Also Camila and Chris continue to be adorable, please let her come back writers! I mean Luca is already calling her ‘big sister’ so she’s clearly meant to be family haha

Okay, a new wish for this season: to hear Thony tell Jorge/Ramona/Nadia “It’s not about doing things the right way or the wrong way, but any way you can. Arman taught me that” at some point. Please writers I neeeeeed it

#The Cleaning Lady #TCL recaps #TCL spoilers #The Cleaning Lady spoilers #lbr I'm absolutely going to spend so much time daydreaming about a version of this ep that has Arman in it instead of Jorge....

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morgandemorgana · 21 days

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Just so you know I’m not good with this one as I get anxiety when writing Tiffany especially since she’s an iconic character who got wrecked for nothing but for shock value. I’m not fan of how the show handle her character being it just painfully wasted my time for nothing and hard to watch especially as someone who grew up with Bride. So as a treat, here’s a small context of Tiffany in the AU.

Context of Tiffany In The AU Part I

-Still goth even if not goth-goth but you can best say it’s the vibe in Curse but with better hair. I love Curse okay

-Your typical femme fatale who’s also living a double life as an actress and someone who wishes for a normal life or as the tinman puts a heart to which it’s meant on her wish to be “human” metaphorically. However at the same time, she’s aware she trapped herself in that killing cycle and her own selfishness which she later accepts if hinted to when talking to Junior.

-Has a mysterious past that only those of a few close to her with Chucky knowing her past. She’s really tight lipped with her past and doesn’t like talking much about it.

-Does begin to face the consequences of her actions especially her double life as Delia Grace, an actress who’s known to be not much into the spotlight even if proficient and a mom who’s trying to not let her children know the ugly truth of their origins while facing the consequences. It’s not like S2 I swear to god but it’s more on her realizing the consequences of her actions as she later regrets out of remorse but at the same time the damage is done.

-Despises Nica in a way that kinda makes sense as there was quote I remember Jen saying that in Cult or something that hinted on it that feels way better than some obsession that doesn’t make sense. So it’s not shocking kinda not fond of the two being trapped in shitty writing.

-Yes, she takes Junior along with them having a toxic codependency as in both want to fill in the void of something they lost. Still trying to decide whether or not I should have Tiffany be a foil to either Nica or Junior in context to make sense then what the damn show is going for alongside psychological elements mainly the light and dark reflection to one another.

-Wants to love and be loved which we see that with Chucky even if both are polar opposites with their pasts, traumas and their different backgrounds.

-She’s not an unhinged dumbass as shown in the canon which I don’t want to get into that talk being honest mainly I get migraines from overthinking how they handle Tiffany in the show but let’s just say I’m not fan of how they did it to the point I’m willing to stand what people have interpret her that’s better than the show’s mess even in their own way just as long as it’s not Don’s. I just want her to be a confident calculative complex villain like how she was in Bride but later on the road we get a darker side to her that isn’t an unhinged mess, something interesting that makes sense. I don’t know as I said Tiffany is that one character I don’t touch with a 10 ft pole since the fandom is attached to her and respect that.

NOTES

-No JT is not in the AU but instead an idea I had for a while is there so kill me if I said I didn’t like the meta jokes in Seed and in the show as it’s not my cup. Maybe it’s because I watched CP2 before Bride so do apologize if that’s what makes me disconnected from a few.

-Her love for Chucky is an interesting concept which I like be explored more in later concepts as I do feel like it’s the show’s loss on exploring them and their destructiveness to one another with their hint of friendship and love.

I might be able to do Tiffany’s backstory at some point as well as how Chiffany came to be and the chain of consequences that arose in 1984 but the same time if honest I’m more hesitant since I’m not good at stronger paragraph ideas nutshell wise but willing will let anyone concepts from me since they know how to do it better than me.

Also I don’t want the show to give Tiffany a backstory mainly out of anxiety and also knowing Don, it won’t feel like an actual backstory but just a “pass”

#chucky #chucky tv series #mystic rambles #mystic au origins #chucky series #child’s play #tiffany valentine #I don’t care what’s someone interpretation of Tiffany is as long as it’s better than what Don has in the show😭😭😭

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lakemichigans · 5 months

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howdy hey, i was wondering what your thoughts on the new hunger games movie were? you made a post saying you were gonna see it, so idk if im too early and you havent yet, but was curious your thoughts on it :)

i really really liked it!!! i just got back from seeing it with my friends and we all agreed it was better than both mockingjay movies in our opinions! i hadn't read the book yet (i know i know i'm kicking myself too) so i was really worried they were going to try to portray snow as the type of person who had good intentions but was corrupted by the system, which would have been aggravating to watch considering the sheer number of children snow will murder throughout his life. i wouldn't have been able to enjoy myself if i knew they were trying to make me feel sorry for snow. instead, they make it clear that he always had his own interests in mind, and although he's fully capable of love, loyalty, and morality (and occasionally does act with those characteristics in mind), he chose to follow a darker path. i absolutely love that writing decision!

when my friend and i realized that snow and lucy gray were flirting we turned to each other and said "are they seriously doing this??" but i was soooo impressed with how they handled the romance and especially with where their relationship was when the movie ended. i mean, i really should have had faith because suzanne collins has never let me down in the "nuanced and uniquely fucked up romance" category before 😌 i honestly think part three (after the arena) was my favorite even though the vibe shifts so harshly it almost feels like it becomes a psychological thriller. i'm just so so relieved they were able to show the inherent humanity in snow WITHOUT being like "see? both sides are bad! all people can be monsters given the right circumstances! the genocidal maniac feels bad about his actions, but what could he have done to stop it? :(" you know what i mean? the narrative allows you to feel snow's emotions without ever using them as an excuse. most of the time his feelings are not even a reasoning for his actions – even when he feels bad about something he's done, he makes no attempt to change. in fact he seems to accept that he's gone too far, so it'll be easier to bury his emotions down deep so he can do even worse shit without feeling bad about it. god it was just so INTERESTING

from a technical standpoint it was less impressive tbh, the cinematography was nothing special (not ugly, just okay). lucy gray's actress was good but she really shined in the subtle facial expressions (such as her growing distrust for snow) and when she was performing on stage, but not so much in emotional outbursts. snow's actor was the opposite, he reallyyy shined during high emotion.

i'm not entirely sure how i feel about viola davis' or peter dinklage's characters. we've seen how superficial, ableist, and classist the capitol is, so i find it odd that two of the most powerful people are visibly disabled. it just doesn't track with who the capitol is. but then again, it also seems that in the early days of the capitol, everything is MUCH less flashy and ostentatious; people are still stuck up and classist, but it's a far cry from the absolute spectacle that the capitol and the games would become 60 years later. compare tigris in this movie to who she becomes later and the shifting culture becomes super obvious:

so if they were trying to show that the people in the capitol used to treat disabled people as equals but no longer do, as a sign of their decreasing sense of humanity and community, then i think it was effective. but i'm not sure if that was the intention, i'll have to look into it more

ANYWAY IT WAS REALLY GOOD!!! i wrote all of this as soon as i got home so i haven't had time to sit with it or anything. i'll post more if i think of anything else!

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madalice31 · 2 months

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I honestly, genuinely cannot stand Kylie Jenner. So if you’re a fan, this post ain’t for you.

Kylie trying to play this victim narrative when it comes to the discussion surrounding her looks is hilarious to me. For her to say that her face has “never” been accepted by the public? Girl the media never said a word about your face while you were growing up on the kardashians show.

Not that I kept up. But she was extremely young at the time and if anyone was getting it from the public, it was Khloe, not her. She was a kid and people barely paid attention to what she looked like.

By the time she was of an age that anyone cared to be critical of her looks, she had already went and had procedures done. It was the result of her actions that caused people to start to speculate. Because the world watched you grow up child, and everyone knew them wasn’t her lips. And then a couple years after them fillers, she come out with a whole new face, breast, and body. At 18 you would have thought she already had two kids. Not only did she look like a whole different person, she was also leaning heavily on black girl aesthetic. Lest we not forget the yaky pony tail debacle.

The only thing that has ever been scrutinized for are the changes SHE chose to make to her face, not her original face. She hit red carpets before all that surgery and no one called her ugly. All of her procedures have been based in her own insecurity and now she wants to project that and play victim? She’s not even self aware enough to recognize her mistakes and would rather deflect.

She steady trying to use makeup and growing up as an excuse. Well “growing up” is certainly changing your face again, that’s for sure. But puberty doesn’t give you high cheek bones that you weren’t born with. Puberty doesn’t change your forehead size. Puberty doesn’t change how your whole jawline looks. Puberty doesn’t slant your eyes. And puberty certainly doesn’t make you look a shade and a half darker. And baby yall give makeup too much credit. It’ll enhance what’s their child. Not give you a new face. Unless it’s movie makeup obviously. Will give you a new skin tone tho.

And after she’s lied so many times about procedures, what does she expect? It took her years to even admit she got breast implants. So why would anyone believe her when she says she did nothing to her face but lip fillers 🙄. It’s apparent that that’s not true.

Oooo lord, I can’t wait for the kardashian craze to just fizzle out. Maybe it will now that they’ve all gone back to looking white and not mimicking black women anymore. Maybe now black women have realized they’re not to be looked up to. Like the amount of damage they’ve caused to women’s self esteem by pushing an unrealistic “beauty standard” that has hurt more people than not. Most especially young girls. We see it with Jordan Woods younger sister, we see it with Travis Barker’s daughter, and we see it with so many young girls. Trying to follow Kylie’s footsteps. Desperate to look grown entirely too fast. Smh.

I hope the damage they made to the female psyche in society can be repaired. Black Chyna gives me hope. I think she’s still in the process, but getting all that shit removed from her body is the bravest and most confident thing I’ve seen a woman do in a while.

#jmo

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astraves · 10 months

Text

Sessions in Ink - Opportunity

“Take your time, Volseth. It’s been more than a moment since our last session.”

youtube

“It has,” Astraves answered quietly. He leaned back into the Divan of Disquieting Self-Revelation and crossed an ankle over his knee, hands braced against his lower leg as his eyes roamed from Director Ouvedhe’s hauntingly placid wrinkles to the leaf-eclipsed glass panels far overhead. “When we last spoke, you... explained the method by which you made your executions,” Ouvedhe tip-toed, seeming entirely too pensive that night. “How you disposed of the bodies, entombed the... unsavory memories of your victims. Darker legacies, for future readers even to ruminate over. To remember, perhaps in hopes of prevention, or realization so that they could potentially address these tendencies, should they ever arise.”

“Not like I had, no,” Volseth corrected calmly, seeming altogether despondent. “More that they could remember that people like this exist, and have existed. They can do what they will with the information, though... Yes, there’s a hope that they’d find some actionable parcel in all of it.” “In the sense of wanting the killings to continue?” Ouvedhe asked. Volseth watched him as he sat stylus and tablet aside to adjust his sleeves, pinching the rolls and folding them up at angles to rest just under his elbows. “Not for any aspiration of legacy,” he answered. “Not even in my method, or with any notion of myself in the effort. My books are illuminated manuscripts host to monsters, Ouvedhe. If would-be hunters, slayers or even just concerned people like us-...” The Director raised a pale, feathery eyebrow. Astraves sighed and rolled his eyes. “I didn’t approach this with powers, in mind, or power. In fact, if you recall I started doing all of this out of an abject loss of control for anything. These people ran rampant, their corruption took my father, countless friends...” “What would you do for the sort of cancer that could only be cut out, Temeril?”

Ouvedhe clenched his jaw for a moment and looked away. “Really, think about it. Nothing else works. For everyone you’ve sent to the law, they buy their way out before they even stand before the Arbiters, threaten the system or slink away conveniently in the night after, what, maybe a single week behind barriers?” Volseth pressed his point and leaned forward, gazing over at the Director inquisitively. “Due process failed me in spectacular ways, when I was doing this. And I assure you - you can ask Geillais herself if she ever deigned to see the shade of night again, I fed her and her officers far more than I ever killed. Set them up to fall perfectly.” “You tried to do right by your instinct,” Ouvedhe said, doing more to explain it all aloud to himself. “A genuine attempt was made to resolve your rage in more productive ways.”

Astraves nodded tiredly. As the silence grew, he uncrossed his leg and leaned forward, elbows on knees, and ran his face against his palms before steepling his fingers beneath his nose. Temeril Ouvedhe shifted uncomfortably in his chair, favoring to tuck one leg beneath himself and leaning with a twist in his back - an oddity, for his age, but betraying ability despite his millennia. The snore of a sleeping dragon, perhaps, echoing through the rocks to quake the village built far above its cavern. “I’m done, regardless.” “Done with-... These talks? You can leave whenever you like.”

“No... The killings, it’s done with. I can’t wash my hands of it, but I have things to hope for. Things to aspire toward. All of this strikes as some self-destruction at the end. I have my son, though. I’m... considering relationships, again. Friends. Family. Possible love interests, or trying again with the boy’s mother. Learning, growing - fuck, living.”

“You didn’t expect to survive Suramar,” Ouvedhe asks in a flat hush.

“No,” Volseth answers as he looks up into the elder’s gaze. “I almost didn’t.”

“I’m glad you endured, for what it’s worth.”

Volseth nodded in a few absent bobs as he sat up straight and folded his hands together to hang low. “I am too, or we wouldn’t have Valente. Possibly a thousand other things... I don’t see the merit of the air in my lungs for myself, it’s always... Others. What my presence does for others.”

“Not you.”

“That’s selfish,” Astraves remarked.

“Have you thought about being selfish, Volseth? Would it be wrong?”

“Entirely.”

“Do you think you could be so? For yourself? It might... lend some perspective or capability to those non-selfish pursuits that consume so much of your time.”

“This isn’t leading into a departmentally-mandated pat on the back sort of vacation, is it?” Astraves asked in a low rasp.

“No,” Ouvedhe said quickly, “absolutely not - Volseth, we need you to be actively doing your work out there, and right now there are things in motion that-... I meant more in your time away. When you go home at dawn, or on the days of rest, when you do take them.”

Astraves lofted his brows in surprise for a moment and sat up straight. Baffled, he looked from a planter to the Director and shrugged.

“It wouldn’t kill me. My son has his lessons, my family’s set to their tasks, I don’t-...”

He shook his head. “I don’t really have much, outside of them.”

“Take the time to expand your circle. Sidle with some group or another, convince them you’re some slap-shod adventurer doing whatever. Seeking purpose, friends. Gold and glory.”

Ouvedhe made a final note on his tablet and grunted. “Go to a brothel, for gods sakes.”

“I can’t think that would reflect well on my House.”

“Bloody nobles - then get yourself some blushing courtesan to shadow you.” “I liked my librarian, when she liked me back,” he said with a faint smile and an absent stare. “I’m not entirely without prospects though, at least.”

Ouvedhe threw his hands up in exasperation and stood.

“Go live, Volseth. Whatever you do, however you do it, whomever you do it with, just go do life things when we aren’t having you do death things, does that sound fair? Make another one of your fucking towers-” “Ouvedhe-” “-open it to the people. Start a bloody restaurant- it literally does not matter. Just go do it.” Astraves slowly stood. Both men regarded one another from across their narrow spaces, one confused, the other at some sort of sudden wits’ end. Ouvedhe ran his fingers over his forehead, as if scarcely able to muster the strength for his palm while his touch daubed at the wrinkles to check for bleeding or the sweat of crossed gentility. “My apologies,” he remarked distantly. “No, I... admittedly am often beside myself, with these encounters. And how avoidable some of these nagging woes are, for you. Or would likely be, if you put the effort to watering your garden instead of becoming homicidal when you see the plants beginning to wilt.”

“What I did was highly contextual,” Volseth offered with a raised hand, reaching for Ouvedhe lazily as if the old man needed saving. “It’s not my focus. Or my care. There’s plenty of death. And has been, and likely will be. I’m just ready for life.” “That isn’t... what, wrong, is it?” Volseth asked.

Temeril composed himself with a sigh and folded his hands together, one palm against the other as his fingers splayed and writhed to vacantly adjust his rings. “It’s not wrong, no. I confess, I expected more. The deep, flayed nerve of a shattered psyche. Schizophrenia, maybe. Something more complicated.”

“Just a boy mourning his father with six centuries of blood,” Astraves said in his quiet gravel. “Watching his world collapse and his friends and loved ones all die or change. Betray him. Realizing the old man wouldn’t want that. Not forever. Just long enough to take out the trash.”

Ouvedhe paced back to his desk as Volseth went on.

“That’s enough to break anyone, isn’t it? It’s a good thing to realize all of this too, right?”

“Suramar still has problems,” Ouvedhe said, away from the point entirely as he opened the widest drawer in the center of his console and drew out a curved thing wrapped in embroidered, violet silk. He undressed the item as if peeling the cloth from a lover’s body and held it forward. Purest leystone, the metal honed to a razor’s edge on either side of its crescent, and set into a twisting ebony grip long enough to accommodate a hand and a half. It bore no engravings or decor. Stunningly beautiful for its simplicity. “What is this,” Volseth shot with a cruel rasp.

“The leystone... becomes impressed, by the energy it contacts, emotions among it. Justice, vengeance, rage. And so much death, Volseth. I disassembled your killing blade and reforged it. Suffused in your victims still, yet anew.” “Why?” Astraves asked, stunned and glaring at the thing.

“What does this do, for you?”

“What does this- My God, right now it looks like a fucking hand scythe,” he said as he bladed a palm toward the vicious tool. “What were you expecting, or- or hoping for, even? What’s this doing for YOU?”

“You are an agent of Suramar,” Ouvedhe began as he lowered the blade. “An agent under my direction, but my guidance pales in comparison to your willingness to be Her Left Hand.” “Temeril-” “A sentinel in the dark, Astraves,” Ouvedhe pressed urgently, voice quivering, “a shadow too deep and hungry for that dark to hide in again. You can’t walk away from it so readily. And you can’t wash your hands of it, because the stain of so much has become part of you.” Volseth raised his hand and cast the sickle in an arcane sheen, then swiped it away in a backhanded blow through the air. The blade did as bade and shot from the Director’s grasp to sink into the woodwork of a bookshelf.

Ouvedhe tumbled back and braced himself against the desk with one hand, the other raised defensively as his face went wide-eyed and slack-jawed from the startle. “My pain is not a bottled thing to be uncorked and put on loan, to you or anyone. What the fuck is wrong with you? What does any of this have to do with our conversations? The sessions? You just completely derailed-”

“Ebrethil Kalthaes,” he murmured quietly. “Your niece’s tormenter,” Astraves grunted angrily. “What of him?”

“His-... His apprentice, Mavonde... He’s-... shadowing her, in the offices they share. She remembers him, from then. She hasn’t left her home in weeks, and she doesn’t respond to calls, and-...” “You want Mavonde to go away,” Volseth asked flatly.

“That’s the start,” Ouvedhe whispered. “And I don’t express such with thrill or... Eagerness. But time is passing. People in power are-... They’re forgetting, and those that slipped through the cracks are... They’re slithering out and daring the light again, Volseth.” “We need you,” Temeril began again as Astraves paced across the room toward the assaulted shelf, his eyes following unerringly. “And I-... I’ll protect you, completely. I swear it on my wife’s tomb. On the graves of my children.”

Long, teal fingers lashed out. With bitter, pale knuckles, they grabbed onto the handle of the hand scythe, thumb braced against the grip as its pried out of the elaborate engravings of the shelf. So keen is it that the metal sang for a time, filling the office with its high, palid drone. Astraves forcibly tucked the grip into Ouvedhe’s hand and squeezed his fingers around the elder’s. “I can’t be accountable for every shitbag that skulks out of the arcway to find place and purpose again,” Volseth told him quietly. “You can give an agent of the Interior a Writ of Mortal Sanction and five strong sentinels to hold the prick down, or you can go treat him to lunch and do it yourself.”

”Good fucking talk.”

Ouvedhe’s hand trembled around the blade as Volseth turned away and stormed toward the teleportation platform.

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yesimgoingthatdeep · 1 year

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Just watched Black Adam and i was suprised. The supporting cast was actually very fun except for hawkman but ill get to that later and no suprise Black Adam would have been best left sleeping.The Justice society, starting with..

Dr.Fate: I love the magic users in DC so its nice to see more of them. I think his charcter was stoic but not in an annoying way and i didn't feel his death was done to just add drama.Although his final speech felt like something that should have been in Batman lol. I am excited to see who takes up the mantle.

Cyclone: i didnt know much about her until the movie but I loved how her powers were displayed and the little i saw of her personality she seemed like a character i would enjoy. Interested to see if the dive any deeper into her connection to past jsa members.

Atom smasher: He seems to be much less jaded then the original atom smasher Albert, who i am a little more familiar with(although they seem to have changed that too if his personality in his short cameo is anything to go by). Honestly was very surprised by Noah in this role but i think he could have done a worse job given his acting in other movies ive seen him in lol. Time will tell if he can really pull the role off but I hope he does.

Last and kinda least Hawkman: why did this man have the personality of John Stewart lmaoo. The Hawkman at least the version i prefer had no qualms about killing people and was a little psychotic. His movie counter part was a little too righteous(not that Hawkman in comics couldnt be).i just didnt like that he wasnt was all no killing and we are the good guys but wasnt open to the fact that everything wasnt so black and white.

Thats also an issue i had with the movie overall. I felt like this movie was being very surface level on questions of ethics and what makes an action or a person good or bad. To back track, overall i thought the jsa was a better part of the movie but i dont feel like i saw enough to say i loved them, i feel like the movie wouldnt have been much different even if they hadnt been included. I also want to say its werid how chummy the jsa is with Waller, i could see why they would work together in certain situations but what i had a hard time believing was how little they questioned her. Not sure if anyone has caught on to how shady she is so that could be why..another thing i will be waiting to see play out in future movies.

For adriana and amon i felt they did a lot to drive the plot forward and they actors did a good job of making me want to root for them.they raised a lot of good questions that i wish the movie explored deeper.

Now to the main event Black Adam. I honestly was expecting to be cringing so hard like watching cw's arrow with all its "dark angst" but i felt nothing watching the Rocks performance. It fell VERY flat for me and he had this werid born yesterday trope where he was just following this kids instructions. Black Adam isnt a likeable guy and thats okay but i feel like they didnt want the star to be unlikeable. He has done a lot of messed up shit like in the one of his origin stories he killed his nephew so he could have the power of shazam for himself. I wanted them to really show his darker aspects and still have him decided to be a hero...an anti-hero. It would have been way more interesting to leave the movie knowing that he had a long way to go to prove himself and earn redemption. Instead we got a tony stark version of a charcter...water down the evil so people dont find him too unlikeable even tho that is the core of the character. Take oswald cobblepot from gotham, we saw every bad deed he did and the 3 good deeds he did lol but i think a lot of people still loved his charcter and found themselves rooting for him even tho he remained a villian. Overall the movies unwillingness to push the envelope on the "evil" side of Black Adam and the Rocks perfomance really made the character fall flat for me.

The villian was a cool concept but basic execution. Just another powered up baddie so there can be a big cgi fight.

Overall the movie was meh. Suprising highlights being most of the jsa, Adriana and Amon not just being damsels in distress and i liked the cgi regarding how powers were displayed. Seeing Henry Caville's superman was a nice bonus.

#black adam #movie spoilers #movie review

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finelinevogue · 3 years

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Can you write something about when Harry and Y/N broke up but fans speculate that they got back together and they did get back together. They broke over something stupid, please. You don’t have to do this exactly it can be something like that.

let’s see how this turns out! hope it’s what you wished for?!

The last few months had been rough.

What had started as rumours of a breakup between everyones favourite couple, you and Harry, had turned into an actual breakup.

It had started by Harry spending more time with Olivia, due to press for Don’t Worry Darling. They were always hanging out with each other, even when there was no publicity stunt telling them to. You found it appropriate at first, wanting the movie to gain some form of reputation, but after a while you believed it turned South. It was becoming a definite friendship and not just because they had to. It was the way that Harry would bring Olivia over for dinner without checking with you first, or taking the dog for a walk with her not you, or even staying longer out on stunts than they needed to just because they wanted to.

So you challenged Harry on it. Hell, even the tabloids were challenging you both - claiming Harry had split from you for Olivia. You made him question whether he thought his actions were irresponsible and appropriate or not, to which he thought there was nothing wrong and thought you were being irrational. You didn’t speak to him for the rest of the day, only to find him later on the phone speaking to Olivia about how crazy you’d been acting about it all. So you showed him crazy and walked out.

Until today.

For over a half a year your sister had her wedding planned and Harry was supposed to be your guest. You were nervous about turning up without him, because your family were very judgy. Your sister couldnt help being the smarter and the prettier one, but she also didn’t have to parade it around so everyone knew of it. Your mum and dad thought you a disappointment for the longest time, but once you’d gotten a job and had moved out they were a bit more loving over you. Still didn’t hide the fact they desperately hoped for you to have a relationship. It wasn’t that you were bringing Harry along to prove that someone loved you, but more to prove that they would never fully be satisfied whether you had a boyfriend or not. There would always be a podium stand slightly lower for you to stand on.

However, they didn’t know about the breakup.

“Y/N, nice to see you. Where’s Harry?” Another guest asked you, relatives of your mum. It was the same question over and over again, no one really caring about how you are but instead whether you’re in a positive relationship.

“Oh um I think he’s just running a bit late.” Was your chosen answer to respond to said question. It was repetitive, but it kept people off your back.

The wedding was completely beautiful. It was in a beautiful church and was decorated to perfection. The theme was white and royal blue, something your sister had always dreamed of. Children played amongst the pews and family relatives mumbled to each other about gossip. There was still a heavy sadness to the event. Maybe it was because your sister hadn’t asked you to be a bridesmaid - instead, choosing her best friends instead - or maybe it was because you missed Harry so much.

He’d fucked up. He really had, but it didn’t take away that burning passion for him that spread like a wildfire in your belly. You missed him. You still loved him. Worst of all, you had to pretend everything was all alright in front of your family when actually you were breaking apart inside.

Harry hadn’t messaged saying that he was or wasn’t coming, but after everything that had happened you were confident he was going to be a no show, and you would be the embarrassment of the family once again. Your relationship had been very private and exclusive, but Harry’s fans were so investigative you wouldn’t be surprised if they knew that you’d broken up and were aware that you were at a wedding today without him. Neither of you had made a public statement about your breakup, but neither of your wanted to damage each other even more. Fans suspected though and rumours travel fast.

“Y/N how are you doing? How’s Harry?” Another aunt came and asked you, this time with your mother in tow.

“Oh he’s great, yes.” You smiled forcefully, not actually having a clue how your ex-boyfriend was doing. You didn’t keep up with his social media because you were afraid of what you might find.

“Where is he? Is he here?” Your aunt asked.

“He’s late, apparently.” Your mother answered for you, sneeringly. “You’ll be made a fool of if he’s a no show Y/N.”

“I know.”

“I hope everything goes well for you both.” Your aunt kindly said, before waiting for your mum to say something nice too. That was a mistake though.

“Well it’s unlikely she’ll find someone again!” Your mother laughed and pulled your aunt away from you. You furrowed your eyebrows and let your heart sink low.

What were you thinking, letting Harry go like that? Your mum was right, you were never going to find anyone else again. You were so lucky with Harry. He was so kind and so patient with you, but obviously he’d run out of steam towards the end. It doesn’t surprise you. You’ve always been told you’re a mighty handful and you need a lot of work put into looking after you, so you understand why you were probably too much for Harry. The showbiz life had never really been something you’d completely submerged yourself into, whereas you guess for Olivia it was rooted in her from birth. She understood Harry’s world the same way he did hers. They would match perfectly for each other, if that’s what they wanted.

You watched the room continue as usual, but you couldn’t keep yourself here. There was too much sadness welling deep within you that you wanted to just run and then keep running. So you did, only to get as far as the bench in the front courtyard. The outside felt calmer and more freeing than inside, you sat and absorbed it for a while, not realising that you were crying until your pretty multicoloured dress had grown darker with a pool of your tears.

“Shit.” You tried rubbing the tears out, but only made you cry a little harder. You thought about your makeup running and tried to compose yourself, fanning your face to calm it down from the heat now.

“And here I was thinking weddings were supposed to be happy.”

You stopped fanning your face to look at him. You couldn’t believe he was standing there, dressed in a beautiful white suit and salmon pink shirt underneath to compliment the colours of your dress - the outfit that you’d helped him pick out over a year ago. He’d remembered. He trusted that you’d still be wearing this dress. He was a sight alright. A vision of beauty and love.

“Harry?” You questioned, wiping your under eyes to clear away any running mascara, not quite believing he was standing there.

“So what was it? Bad music playing? No vodka? Or maybe there’s nowhere for you to escape to go read the book I know you have stuffed away in your clutch bag.” He stood at a distance from you, hands in his trouser pockets, to make sure you were comfortable.

“I brought vodka instead of the book.” You chuckled, reaching into your clutch to prove it to him.

“Lucky for you, i’ve come to save the day.” Harry reached to the inside of his blazer pocket and pulled out a Kindle. You’d always been debating whether or not to buy one, because the feeling of having a book to turn its’ physical pages is a feeling second to none. “Take it, it’s yours.”

Harry handed it out to you and you stood up to reach for it hesitantly. Harry assured you that it was okay and that you’d been reading too many books if you thought it was a trap of some sort.

“Thank you, Harry.” You spoke sincerely. You stroked your thumb over the cover and turned the case lid over to start up the screen. The screen lit up and it was set to a picture of your favourite quote, annotated just as you would have in your own book. You chuckled and let a few tears drop from the kindness of all of this.

“And then…” Harry unlocked the Kindle with your birthday as the password, before clicking on the library so you could discover what was waiting for you on your virtual shelves. Harry had downloaded all your most favourite books, whilst also downloading the ones he knew had been on your to-be-read list. He’d even added a few of his favourite books too, just because you liked reading his recommendations.

You smiled, but felt so lost.

“W-why are you here, H?” You asked, closing the lid and bravely looking up into his enchanting eyes. You had to control yourself not to comment on how wondrous they looked.

“To save the day.” He chuckled in repeat, until he knew you weren’t taking that for an answer. “Because I fucked up. Big league time.”

“Yeah.” You whispered, looking down at your shoes to see that they weren’t that far apart at all. He was so close to you, yet he wasn’t yours to catch.

“And i’ll never forgive myself for letting you walk out of that door. The promotion shit with Olivia? Done. I’ve finished. I explained that the movie isn’t as important to me as you. You,” Harry paused to breathe out, and took the risk of guiding your jaw up to meet your gaze with his soft hand, “you are real Y/N. You’re so important and key to my life and it bloody terrified me, still does actually, to think that you make me feel this way. I want everything with you. Marriage, kids, a home. A life. I was so worried I would screw it all up, though, to the point where I did screw it all up. I lost you and so I lost me. It’s selfish of me to ask whether any part of your heart still wants me, but—”

“Yes.” You quickly interjected before he could say something he’d later regret. “There is, yes.”

“R-really?” He stumbled over his response, not expecting you to react so soon but his words had got to you. His feelings were vulnerable and raw and it reminded you of how much you love him and feel safe with him.

“Why? Would you like me to say different.” You teased.

“No,” Harry rushed, stepping closer towards you, “God now. Stay, please. Forever, if you’ll have me?”

“I can deal with forever.” You leaned up to where his lips were, craving the taste of them against yours so badly. “Can I?” You looked between his lips and his eyes, watching his eyes coo in admiration of you. His arms snaked around your neck and cupped the back of your head, resting his ringed fingers against your skin delicately.

“You don’t have to ask, angel.” And with that you didn’t hesitate to reclaim your clips on his. He tasted as sweet and as soft as you could remember. The hint of mint sweets he kept in his car could be tasted all over his mouth, and he could no doubt taste the vodka on yours. He took no time in rushing to have his tongue exploring your mouth once mouth, biting on your lip when he got the chance to. He wanted you to remember this moment and how much love he has for you, and always will. Just as you do for him.

Hesitantly pulling away you smiled at him cheekily, feeling so much lighter and happier to have him here. With you in his arms so expertly.

“What?” He asked, leaving a quick kiss to your nose, inhaling his scent as he did.

“Just can’t believe you’re here.” You stroked his cheek with your thumb, and he leaned into your touch so comfortably. He had missed you so damn much, and it showed.

“Let you down once before and I wasn’t going to do it again.”

“So you’d have shown up even if I hadn’t?”

“Not happily, but yes.” He laughed thinking about it.

“Why?” You laughed with him.

“I’ve got to make my impression on your family somehow. Need to remind some of them how amazing and beautiful their special Y/N L/N is.”

“Some are going to need a lot more persuading than others.” You sighed, side-frowning over your words.

“No offence, but anyone who doesn’t treat you as a fucking diamond doesn’t deserve you and should watch out for kick up their backside from me.” You laughed over his empty threat and buried your head against his chest, listening to the heartbeat and rumble of laughter that came from within. This moment alone felt like home. Safe and warm.

“I love you, H.”

“Bloody love you too.”

Harry ended up returning to the wedding with you, much to your mothers surprise, and you both enjoyed the celebrations together. You shut yourselves out from everybody and just danced, talked and drank the night away.

You were so in love.

Later, photos got leaked of the wedding and it showed you and Harry dancing away in one of the backgrounds of the photos. It was supposed to be a shot of just the bride and groom, but you two have managed to get caught in it. You looked so caught up in each other that you still weren’t even aware the photo had been taken. You and Harry had determinedly avoided the camera all night, exactly for this reason, but a part of you was kind of happy that this one photo got leaked, because it showed the world that Harry was yours and you were his. It showed that you were together, or back-together as addressed by some FBI fans, and that you were stronger for it.

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cinnamonest · 3 years

Text

Yandere Profile - Link (Legend of Zelda)

ABSOLUTELY YES. MY BOY. LOVE OF MY LIFE.

As some of you may know, today is the release date of Skyward Sword HD for Switch!! So I decided to release this one now in honor of that :3

NOTES:

I went towards the idea of a Princess!reader because that just opens the gate for sooooo much potential. I'm leaning heavily towards the ZeLink interactions in BoTW and Skyward Sword just because those games have the most interaction between the two.

Also! This is great bc it gives me the opportunity to explore an idea I've actually had a long time! I've always thought about how many opportunities there have been across the games for Link and Zelda to be kinda like "haha well seeya later" and just... bolt, run away from everything, abandon their roles and responsibilities and all that. Like, if OoT kid Link got her before Ganon did and ran, if SS Link just decided to get her on the bird and bolt before everything went down, if botw Link was just like haha what if we ran away from everything together... jk... unless...?

And final note, Link is a great pick for the very traditional yandere -- sweet and : ) but can snap into darker personas. I really liked writing this bc I tend to have more self centered yans and less of the "worships the ground you walk on" type of yans like I think Link would be, so it's a nice change.

As usual now the nsfw section is divided by a ---- line.

TWs: fem reader, heavily implied Zelda!reader, stalking, murder, very brief mentions of gore/dismemberment of rivals, manipulation, very brief suicide mention, themes of reincarnation (I’ve been told this can be triggering to some people so just in case)

TWs (nsfw section): noncon, somnophilia

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

Severity Scale

Intelligence/Perceptiveness: 4 Brutality: 8.5 Physical capability: 8 Mental/emotional instability: 7 Restrictiveness: 6 Sexual sadism: 5 Stubbornness: 8

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

The primary trait of Link that any darling -- any person, really -- would notice is that he is, well, quiet. He has always been a man of few words, and really, he often doesn't know exactly what to say. On his own, at a first glance, he really does seem like a gentle, humble spirit, someone who blends into the background pretty well, who isn't particularly prideful or reckless or aggressive.

Which is why, to be honest, he might sort of evade the gaze of most people -- he doesn't stand out. You remember him as the boy that smiled at you now and then, it's a soft, gentle sort of smile, one that you feel conveys nothing but the utmost innocence and contentment with the world. You know he's pretty good at fighting, but doesn't get into fights needlessly, he's accomplished and respected, but has never been the guy everyone is talking about -- he's in the background, against the wall. Never speaking, always looking out, sometimes at the sky, sometimes carefully watching people. Sometimes you see him, gaze blank and tranquil, and wonder what he's thinking about. Whether he's the village boy in the time of Twilight, the trained and honored warrior that slept for many years, the boy that came down from the sky -- you can't help but feel at ease around him, safe, you can't help but find him endearing and pleasant.

Yet, you always seem to notice him. Other people... forget he exists, sometimes, he's so quiet. You never do, for whatever reason.

When he needs to get something across, he prefers to express himself through actions, not words. If you lived in Skyloft, or Ordon village, you might find problems mysteriously solved, work suddenly done that you don't remember doing. That fencepost outside your home that broke has been replaced overnight. A village child went missing and he comes back a few hours later with them in tow. Always humble, never demanding or expecting thanks, he tells you in his quiet voice that he's happy to help you.

And should you ever ask him for anything, he'll drop whatever he's doing to help. Anything for you, he says with a smile, which makes you feel a bit guilty when, honestly, you're not even sure you're remembering his name right.

And yet, sometimes, you feel so at ease around him it seems unnatural. He seems so easy to trust. You feel like you've known him forever. And sometimes you feel... for just a split second, less at ease. You find yourself randomly stiffening at his calm, sweet voice. You find yourself looking around when you're alone, as if you feel someone is there, and for some reason, his face flashes through your mind. Sometimes when he looks at you, you feel sort of cold. It's almost like invoking a memory you don't have, like some kind of learned instinct you can't recall a reason for. But those moments are fleeting, they come and go before you can even process them, replaced by warmth and comfort.

If you do spend time with him, if you find yourself gazing out your window when he's training, the next thing you notice besides him being quiet and sweet is that he's strong. It's almost ironic, how all the other knights or village boys are so aggressive and rowdy all the time, many of them taller or bulkier, and yet, none of them could ever dream of defeating Link. Not one can match his agility, speed, prowess. Such a pleasant, calm person, with so much skill, strength, and power, but that power is so rarely seen exerted. People marvel at his talent, they say it's as if he has the experience of lifetimes and lifetimes of battle in his blood.

And it's why you feel at ease when he's assigned the task of guarding you. His capabilities are unmatched, and yet you'd never fear any harm to you from him. Both of those traits put together make him the best candidate to protect you.

Of course, you do find yourself doing most of the talking. Sometimes you find yourself rambling to fill the silence, and you fear you're annoying him, but when you stop he raises an eyebrow and asks why you got so quiet. Did he do something wrong? He seems to worry about that a lot -- has he done something bad? Has he made you upset? Are you mad? At first you think he's worried about his position security, but after a while you realize he genuinely worries about it.

And when you do continue your ramblings, you're surprised to find he remembers your words -- every little thing you say. Things you don't even remember telling him. He asks you about that relative you mentioned one time, his eyes light up and he walks a bit to the side because look, it's your favorite flower over there, he'll get it for you. It's impressive, really, how he manages to remember such things. He must take his job very seriously.

He does enjoy giving you such things -- he loves giving you gifts. It's usually things he finds, wholesome little things -- makes a crown out of the flowers you like so much, finds something interesting here or there, while he was off-duty he saw something in the markets he thought you'd like and got it for you. You almost feel guilty, it's so constant that he's giving you things.

Sometimes you ask him about himself, you realize he knows so much about you and you so little about him. He blushes, he rubs the back of his head, he insists there's nothing interesting about him, he wouldn't waste your time like that. It takes time to get him out of his shell, but eventually, he tells you this or that, little stories from his life.

Sometimes you take long walks, you like to get out of the stuffy walls and have fun outside, he accompanies you across Hyrule. Sometimes it feels familiar, you pass places you've never been that give you a feeling of nostalgia, deja vu, a sense that you've been here before.

He’s protectiveness incarnated. Insanely so. He can spring to his feet at a moment's notice and deals with anything that comes for you before they can even get close.

It makes you feel safe, but there's something else there. It's a ferocity that is so contrasting to his normal self, different even from the times you've seen him fight as he trains. It's a glint in the eyes, an aggression in his expression, that almost makes him seem like a different person. And it lingers for a moment, once the creature is dead and his sword hand falls to his side, he turns and glances at you to his side, a hand raised to wipe the blood off his face, and for that lingering second, it's still there, his blank expression and wide eyes -- a ferocity so intense it starts to look like bloodlust, chaos, destruction. And then, it's as if you imagined it. Smiling and telling you it's gone now, you're ok. You're glad he's so truly devoted.

In fact, he's so dedicated to his job that he starts... doing it... outside of his job hours...? Well, today he was given the day off, and you were told to stay inside because you didn't have to go out. He comes knocking on your door, says not to be startled if you hear someone outside your door move or shift or anything, but he just wanted to let you know in case. He'll be right here. Keeping watch. So don't worry. You're safe.

And likewise, he was supposed to have a day off when you were supposed to enter the town. You were assigned two other guards to watch you, since it's a special trip, so you're surprised to find just Link waiting for you. He took care of it, he says, he didn't feel right leaving your safety up to someone else, he doesn't trust them. So they agreed to let him take over for today.

All of this said, he doesn't have to grow alongside you, he doesn't have to be the childhood friend, the knight who guards you. He doesn't even have to have met you. Fate works in odd ways like that. There's a sort of inexplicable instant attachment he takes to you, almost as though it's some kind of destined, divinely inspired sort of thing. He would describe it as saying you feel familiar to him.

He's also, notably, prone to a more traditional trope of what you might call humility whiplash. For the most part, he's got that overly humble, worshipping, "I don't deserve to even stand in your presence" sort of mentality. However, although it's rare and requires a lot of wearing down his mental state, if pushed far enough, he can have brief moments where he snaps into more or less the complete opposite -- entitlement, arrogance, aggression, getting mad at you for the behavior he'd normally take with a smile on his face. Thankfully, unlike some yanderes that have a whole snapping episode towards their darling, his are very very brief, usually only a matter of seconds or a single snarled sentence before he snaps back to normal, wide-eyed and apologetic and telling you I don't know what came over me. It’s... a little frightening to say the least, but you blow it off, tell yourself that hey, everyone has moments like that... Right?

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

For the most part, he doesn't need it, he can pretty easily cling to your side well enough to be assured of your safety, and he manages to scare off the undesirables not with a glare, but a smile that's just a little too sweet and far too persistent -- it unnerves people. You hear a lot of people say that something about that guy rubs me the wrong way. Or that he gives me goosebumps for some reason. Even the people he scares away themselves can't pinpoint exactly what it is, all they know is that, despite being reputed as kind and quiet (and maybe a little dense), somehow a lot of people agree that something about him puts people at unease, and that's all he needs. Because they stay away from him, and if he’s by your side all the time, that means they stay away from you too. Why keep you trapped when you can just be isolated?

An aware Link is a a unique scenario. One scenario that's rather... interesting to imagine is a Link that defies fate itself, a Link that decides to be selfish in one of those rare snapping moments of his. Perhaps he makes a decision when everything starts going down, when the chaos is beginning, or perhaps he has somehow managed to gain knowledge of the bigger picture at work, the reality of the nature of your existence and his.

Perhaps he begins to think it's unfair. To suffer again and again. To prove himself again and again, and not always even to reap any benefits, to work so hard and yet still -- still -- you slip out of his grasp. He longs for a life with no tribulations, no struggle, no fights to be fought. He begins to feel like it's what he wants the most. He begins to feel like maybe it's what he deserves. So many lifetimes of struggles, if the higher powers won't give him a reward, he'll take it himself.

And perhaps, for all their higher power, not even the great goddesses themselves would have ever predicted it -- humans are ultimately creatures of will. To defy fate and to run away from destiny -- it wouldn't be the first time a human has tried such a thing. Sure, Hyrule may be destroyed. The people may all die. There may be nothing left. But you know what? He's stopped caring. If you're alive and he's alive, tucked away in your little corner of the world where you've found respite, well, that's all he needs. Even if you're on the run from forces that would want to find you, even if the threat of the final third of the triforce owner looms over your head. He'll ignore it, he'll look away.

You'll live a quiet little life together, a happy life without suffering, without quests and enemies, without strife, without worry. That's what he tells you when he steals you away, lifts you out of your bed one night. Says to be quiet, there's danger outside your door, he's rescuing you. You have no reason to not believe him. He waits until things go down, a castle under siege, but rather than taking you to where you're supposed to go, he climbs onto the horse and starts... riding away. It gets further and further into the distance, and you might ask why, what's going on? You have a job to do, he has a battle to be fought. But he says you're going far, far away, someplace you'll be safe.

But what about the divine beasts, the seals, the Twilight, whatever threat runs in this world in this time, what about the threat of Ganon, you ask? He says it doesn't matter anymore. You were doomed to fail, he thinks, it's either stay here and die, or run away. All that matters is you. And he'd like you to feel the same way for him. You will with enough time, don't worry.

He just wants this happy, quiet life with you that he’s been denied time and time again. It’s all he wants. If fate won’t give it to him, he’ll make it happen himself, and carve out the life he is determined to have, defying even the will of higher power.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape?

He gets it. Really, he does. "Stop following me!" You yell. Well, he understands why you might feel that way, but this is kinda his job. He thinks you're naive. Not that he would ever, ever have a thought that you're imperfect, of course! It's because you're so perfect and pure that you're... less aware of the dangers all around.

He'll let you think you're free, perhaps. He's more than capable of being quiet, quiet is kind of his thing. Watching you from a short distance is easy. Of course, his horse might make a noise, he can't really help that, or he might misstep on a branch or something. And then you turn around and get all mad again. Now you're even more angry. Well, he can also tell your guardians/father, who will encourage you to accept it. You can't help but feel a little bad -- he's just doing his job.

Now, our aware, runaway Link, well, does he really need to keep you restrained? What would you go back to? Certain death, a land destroyed? Sometimes you mention home, and he's quick to remind you that home doesn't exist anymore. His home is where you are. Can't you feel the same way? You found peace here in this little place -- a village far far away. Travelers, you call yourselves. What's the point in going elsewhere? How would you ever survive without him? He's not very good at being subtle or skillful about the psychological manipulation, it's obvious he's trying to scare you into not leaving, but... it still works, because really, he has a point.

He doesn't want to have to use physical restraint, in any case. And for the most part, it's not needed, because one important aspect of your relation is that his job kinda revolves around you (in some incarnations), or, perhaps you live in the same little village, but either way the thing is that his presence does the job well enough -- he's always there, perhaps more so than almost any other yandere. Even when you think you've managed to get away from him for a moment, somehow his face pops up out of nowhere. How he manages to pull it off is a mystery, you swear he manages to find you so well and predict your movements it's inhuman.

But if you really, really pose a problem, a smarter and sneakier darling that somehow manages to keep slipping out of his grasp and running off (you never get away for more than about 20 minutes or so, but nonetheless), you keep trying to run off when he's sleeping (he wakes up in approximately 25 seconds if your presence is absent from the bed, but that's still enough time to run out the front door), every time he turns his head (which isn't often) you're trying to disappear... well, in that case, he can reach a point of deciding more straightforward measures are necessary. He hates to do it, really, at least when he's not yet at a snapping point. But it's for your own good. And he says so, quite apologetically.

But it's not so bad, it's not like you're being chained to a wall or anything. For one, he got leather ties so you'd be more comfortable, but more importantly, as your guardian, he figured the best thing for you to be tied to would be... himself. Think of it like friendship bracelets! It's just... got a 5-foot chain connecting them. This way you can't sneak off at night, and you won't get too far when he's distracted. It's a safety measure.

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

He's a learner. At first, it's easy. Honestly, he is a rather naive, gullible boy, sometimes he reminds you of a happy dog with his bright eyes. He likes to believe the best of people, give them the benefit of the doubt in all circumstances, and that goes double for you, who he believes can do no wrong.

And even when you do lie to him, it's still not wrong. You didn't do anything bad. Clearly there has simply been a misunderstanding, and you thought you had to lie. Or perhaps you simply forgot a detail or were confusing something with something else. It wasn't malicious on your end, he knows that.

He's actually significantly smarter than he lets on in practical knowledge, though. Those dungeon puzzles pay off, you know? He's got pattern recognition down. So over time he learns how to distinguish when you're lying to him or attempting to deceive him, and sees through it increasingly well.

And yet, he doesn't really... get mad over it, most of the time. Again, he's just capable of deluding himself into believing there's a reason. He believes so strongly in your goodness that he finds a way to interpret everything you do as out of benevolence. So you snuck out the window and didn't tell him you were going for a walk because you just wanted to get away from his suffocating presence for once? You were just thinking of him. You didn't want to burden him and wanted to give him a break. Well, that's thoughtful, but don't worry, he doesn't need a break. He thinks it's precious you're so considerate of him though!

You don't tell him you were talking to that person, and you lie and say no when he asks, because you don't want him to worry, and because you underestimate how dangerous others can be. He's told you a million times and you don't listen, but that's ok, it's because you're just so pure you see the best in everyone. Everything you do is good.

Because he perceives your lies, he will still work against and around it. He won't confront you on your lies, he'll just make sure to deal with the situation -- you lied about sneaking out, well, he'll just keep watch and be ready to meet you outside next time. You lied about talking to a person, well, he'll just have to make sure they stay away from you instead.

If you're trying to trick him, he just plays along until necessary. Smiles and nods. He gets the suspicion you're planning a break-out when he told you he was leaving to go get something from town... rather than saying so, he just decides, you know what? Why don't you come with him? Oh, you're feeling sick, you tell him it's ok, go without you? Well, he can't leave you alone then! Because you're clearly not and just trying to get him to leave... or, as he says, he can't just leave you alone. He'll go another day.

He's fairly manipulable when it comes to praise and affection. You can easily Pavlov him into certain behaviors or patterns with just the slightest words of praise and affection. He's not a very outwardly expressive person, tends to stay quiet, but you can tell how he feels inside when you give the slightest praise, a hug, a kiss on the cheek -- you can see that soft hint of a smile and tell that inside, he's basically melting, even if it's not obvious to most people. And, much like the lying, he’s honestly often aware of it, but he just can’t help it.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

He tries to get you the things that he feels will make you happy. Your happiness is incredibly important to him, and he usually thinks about how any action he plans to take might affect you, spends a lot of time debating choices of things to do or say and try to determine how each one will affect you and choose accordingly.

As such, he goes out of his way to support the things you want to do. Have a hobby? He'll find the best materials available. Want a book or a food? He'll obtain it through some means. Even if procuring it involves a side-quest-y set of mundane tasks or scouring the world for 70 of this and 50 of that to exchange it for the item from an obscure specialist, it's all worth it.

The only thing he just doesn't give up on is the constant vigilance and insistence on being by your side more or less every waking second. And every sleeping second. And just every single moment you're alive. It's for your safety.

This is actually one of the things he can get a little nasty about when it comes to how he deals with it, because he quickly has the bright idea that if you don't get it, he'll make you understand. Of course, he can't actually risk you getting hurt, so he stages it. Allows you to sneak off, or at least think you have, and walk right into the path of those monsters he lured, or the people he hired to intimidate you. Of course, it's only natural that he shows up at the last possible second, right on time to save you. You should expect that, after all, it's his responsibility to protect you, of course fate works out perfectly like this. See, he was right, it's so dangerous, and without him you'd be dead. Hopefully you grasp that now.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

His is mostly related to vigilance. Where are you? Who have you been talking to? Who was that person you were talking with just now? What did they say? He's not nosy. He just cares about you. It’s in the job description. You ought to understand just how much certain bad people would love to find you and hurt you. That's why he has to know.

This isn't our modern world, so there's no phones or tracking devices to speak of, just himself, which, well, might as well be a tracking device since he never seems to have difficulty finding you. Sometimes you're not sure how he does it.

He tells you that you don't have to be with him 24/7, but you will be, even if you don't realize it. He's aware enough to know that you'll feel suffocated and get mad if you're aware of his presence all the time, so he gives you your "alone" time, aka, the "follow her quietly from a 20+ foot distance" time. It all feels the same to you. Well, sometimes you feel eyes on you, but you shake the feeling off as paranoia.

So it's not so much that he sets rules and reacts when they're broken, but rather, he works his way around anything you might do so well that he doesn't need you to follow his rules, or really, you take them more as suggestions. But honestly, that's kind of worse. It's enough to drive a darling to the brink of a mental breakdown very quickly. With Link you will inevitably become paranoid, nervous, you feel like you're going insane because he manages to pop up everywhere, he always knows what you did when you did it and you have no idea how it is even conceivably possible for him to know some of the things that he knows. He confronts you very plainly and quietly, often sweetly, asking why you did this or that or telling you it's ok, you don't have to hide anything, surely there’s a good reason, and if not, he forgives you anyway. In a way, it's worse than an angry confrontation. You begin to feel like he's omnipresent, like he can read your mind, and it truly takes a mental toll and affect you worse than any normal yandere's concept of punishment.

This ultimately works out well in his favor. The more you just do what he wants, the less it feels like a violation or intrusion that he knows these things, since he was there with you, it makes sense, and you continuously get bent to his will.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

Ah, and thus we get to that brutality rating.

It would be unthinkable to think that any sort of scum would even dare. Even he isn't worthy of being with you, and someone else thinks they could be? So, he more or less views "rivals" as an offense. When they're threats, well, he's allowed to deal with them. When they're not, well... he has a wonderful reputation. If he says he overheard that person planning usurpation or assassination, that they realized he was listening in and wildly attacked him, everyone will believe him. Even if the death seems a little... non-immediate. And uh... frankly... overkill. How exactly... did those limbs get perfectly severed during equally armed combat? And was it... really necessary... to kinda spill entrails all over like that? He'll apologize, of course, he was just so outraged by the thought of someone hurting you or your family, you know? You notice his eye twitches a bit as he says it.

He has a lot of... bottled up frustrations, which we'll touch on in the nsfw section as well, but it tends to manifest in those two ways: sex and violence. Rather than exerting stress and anger and frustration as it comes, he lets it fester. He tries to maintain being the noble, humble, self-sacrificing person he feels he should be. That is... difficult to do for a long time. People expect a lot from him, even in timelines where he's not necessarily realized as the hero quite yet, he usually has a lot of responsibilities. But then you tack on the whole hero thing? The weight of the world is sometimes, quite literally, on his shoulders. Do you have any idea the kind of stress that comes with that knowledge? It's not pleasant. And it quickly bottles up, a very very fragile bottle set to eventually shatter in a matter of time.

On a longer sort of quest, he just kinda... leaves a trail of destruction in his wake. Enemies don't actually just poof out of existence the way they do on-screen, you know. Anyone coming across an area he's just been through is met with literal piles upon piles of corpses, sometimes monsters, but sometimes people. He takes a very scorched earth sort of policy when it comes to dealing with things.

He's able to easily get close to people, with that sweet face and puppy eyes and lithe body, people don't really feel on guard around him nor intimidated. That makes it significantly easier to infiltrate enemy hideouts, earn favors, and work his way in to be able to commit mass murder more easily. Granted, no one thinks too much of it because they *are* truly enemies, after all, they *did* need to be taken out and well, if the rulers can choose to either send a group of ten soldiers or just one guy and get the job done equally well either way, they'll go with the latter option. No one thinks anything of it, except the occasional person who laughs and says something to the effect of remind me to never get on your bad side, haha! He gives that sheepish, sweet little smile, and jokingly tells them that yeah, better not.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

For you, nearly impossible. For others, at a hair trigger.

For the most part, he conceals anger well until, as aforementioned, it bottles up and bursts. The truth is he gets irritated virtually all the time by other people. People who talk to you. Look at you. Smile at you. He’s actually rather easily annoyed even when you’re not involved, but again, he’s good at hiding it until it builds.

His rage has a commonality with his calm -- it's quiet. At least, at first. When it's directed at others, his eyes narrow. It's the telltale sign that someone has ignited his rage. It burns on the inside, it starts off as a spark that builds and builds and grows larger and larger until it's a blazing fire that consumes everything in his path. It's a loss of composure, a rare moment of complete loss of self-control. From his own perspective, it feels like he's not in control of his own body, it's all a blur happening in front of him and when it's over he's looking down at his own hands, unable to process his own actions, sometimes unable to remember them.

But it's violent, merciless, unforgiving. It does not yield to begging, it does not leave anything alive unless forced to. You remember the first time you realized how unnatural it was, how shocked you were at how he did something that certainly went against the code he was sworn to follow, the very first time you felt truly afraid of Link. It was a walk in town -- someone called out to you, spitting obscenities about you and your family, your lineage, threw something at you -- he caught it in his hand and crushed it, and quickly, without a word, advanced on the offender. And, to make a long story short, you had to prevent him from beating a man to death in public in broad daylight. He was forgiven by his superiors, but even they seemed shocked. You had to pull him off, and when he jerked his head around to look at whatever was stopping him -- before his face softened as he recognized your own face -- the split second you saw the burn of hatred and fury in eyes that were normally so soft and loving, was nothing short of unsettling, you still recall the chill that ran down your spine.

And honestly? It's terrifying. And the first time, it's shocking. Sure, you knew he could fight. You've seen him fight off monsters, bokoblins and lizalfos and the like. But something is different about seeing the blood of a human being run down his sword, dripping onto the ground, to see the bodies and the blank, numb gaze on his features he always has after it's over. The absolute lack of hesitancy he has to run human enemies through before they even have a chance to explain themselves, how unbothered he seems by the carnage left in his wake. The way he turns back to you, drenched in red and smiles, tells you it's ok, you're safe now. There's no need to look so scared.

And it changes how you view him, in the long run. Less of a guardian angel, more of a guardian dog, one that defends your name when you never asked him to. Pleads to tell him not to fall on deaf ears -- you just don't understand why it has to be this way, he says, you can't comprehend the threat they posed. From the sweet boy that leaves you flowers and repairs and instead leaves a wave of destruction in his path you would not have thought possible.

Directed towards you, though, it's entirely different. He tries his best to have patience with you, no matter what. He smiles, he tries to make excuses as to why you'd say this or do that, why you'd feel a certain way, and he's rather good at deluding himself to give you the benefit of the doubt.

But when it reaches an end, when he can no longer lie to himself, when you push it to a point that you truly make him mad, it's more of a snap. The times he'll lay hands on you in a truly violent way are rare, and as aforementioned, very brief. It's usually not so much of actually a blow, so much as a grab. He just can't get what he's trying to tell you through your thick head, so he stresses it, trying to make you understand as he grabs you by the upper arms, shaking you with each word, and he only stops when he sees the pain and fear in your eyes, drawing his hands back at lightning speed. He saves you from some danger very narrowly, one of the few times he lost track of you for a moment and had to frantically search before coming across you being attacked. What would I have done if something happened to you? Don't you understand that? He's so lost in the relief it takes him a moment to feel you beating on his arms in the embrace, choking and wheezing that you can't breathe, that his grip is so tight it feels like he'll snap you in half. He draws back again, and he apologizes, but it will certainly happen more than once.

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

Above. Like, so, so, so far above. He feels like he doesn't even deserve to look at you. Of course, neither does anyone else, so he's just, you know, stepping up to bear the burden of wrongdoing to keep people even worse than him away from you.

So it's less that you're just above him so much as you're above everyone. He's actually, perhaps surprisingly, a little bit of a pessimist about the world. The world is full of so many terrible people and so many horrible things happen that he's borne witness to. It's a "world cold and hard, (y/n) soft and warm" sort of thing. You're the one good thing, the thing that makes him happy, the ultimate source of comfort he has, and he has to prevent you from being defiled by the evil of the world, keep you innocent and sweet (even if he's just deluding himself to think you are those things in the first place).

This ties into, again, how he interprets every action you take as good and benevolent -- he has the "you can do no wrong" mentality. Even very blatantly malicious things, he'll interpret in a way that makes you somehow still come out a perfect, innocent angel. If you do harm to others, well, they simply deserved it. You did something technically wrong, but you knew no better, or you were desperate. You can't be held responsible for any of it. And if you're mean to him, well, he probably did something to make you upset.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

Sort of a duality. Yes, he's very persistent. He thinks about it all the time. Every time you yell and try to run and hurl nasty insults at him, it hurts far more than you realize. He doesn't let it show on his face or in his voice, but it really does, and it gets to him sometimes. He's hyper observant of every little thing you do, your body language, your tone, the way you look at him, and the slightest of differences can change his mood internally, although it tends to look the same outwardly.

He makes little mental notes of it -- today she didn't flinch when I touched her shoulder. Today she didn't frown when she saw me coming. Little things like that will make his entire day. Likewise, the inverse kills him inside. He aims to make every day one of the former days, where the littlest signs of acceptance or even kindness and affection give him a sort of high that makes him feel like he's floating.

He tries his best to do things that he thinks will, well, earn love. Every opportunity to do something for you, he takes it. Everything he sees he'd think you'd like, he buys (or steals, or... loots from a dead body) for you. On and on that idea goes. And although he doesn't say too much, when he does speak to you, he usually has something nice to say. He views it in a formulaic way -- ironically, think about it like those collectibles in overworlds. You get enough of this or that thing, and once you have enough, you can go talk to this or that person and donate them all and get a reward, right? He's accustomed to viewing things that way. Love should be the same way. If he just completes enough tasks and gathers enough items, eventually he'll unlock your love.

That being said, even if it doesn't happen, much to your despair, he just... doesn't. Give. Up. He doesn't quit. No matter how many times you tell him, it doesn't make a difference. You can tell him you'll never love him, and it's like it goes in one ear and out the other. He keeps trying. And he never, ever, ever stops trying. What did you expect? The boy's been fighting the same enemy over and over across lifetimes, needless to say his spirit has build up some persistence.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Bonus: Zelda/Triforce of Wisdom Darling

And don't worry. If it all goes wrong, when he fails, those divergences in time where the hero is vanquished and evil wins out -- it's not the end. Somehow, that's the feeling he gets, holding your little lifeless body up, running hands across your cold skin. Somehow, he feels oddly calm. Like it hurts, but it's ok. Like he'll see you again. Maybe not soon, but one day. This time didn't work out. But the next one will.

And that's the feeling you'll always have. Every time you meet him and you feel like you've met before, the lingering memories when you wake from your dreams -- flying through skies and sailing on oceans, a child, an adult, a boy you've never met, or one you've known all your life, but it's always the same face, the same voice, the one right beside you in the waking world. You sometimes wonder if he has the same feelings, the same dreams, the same sense of something greater than yourselves at work, the sense of being just smaller pieces in a much bigger picture.

The sense of permanency, that each other is all there will ever be -- regardless of how it makes you feel, regardless of how that scares you, sometimes you feel like you can never be free. Sometimes, when you think of running away, those dark moments when you think of even escaping from life itself, it feels futile. It's as if you know it would never hold him away forever. As if death is insignificant. Perhaps in this lifetime, you'll become aware of why that is, or perhaps not.

With other obsessive lovers, just the idea of til death do us part is a terrifying thought. But, for Link, not even death can keep him away from you. Your suffering is already determined by the will of higher power, for the sake of a greater good.

In truth, it’s the goddesses who made him this way intentionally -- it’s designed to ensure your safety, even at the cost of your suffering. Again, for a greater good. Sure, you may live one lifetime to the next desperately locked in the same cycle in which your freedom and will is stripped from you, but in the end, it serves a purpose.

Nor will he change -- perhaps this one this time is a bit more spirited, more calm, more pessimistic, more optimistic... but in the end, at their core, they're the same soul, with the same will deep, deep down. The same drive to find you and protect you. The same love for you, an all-consuming love that destroys everything in its path to you and leaves ruin in its wake.

And if fate should one day keep you apart, should things change, for whatever reason, it’s unable to change him. There's another force even more powerful than fate determined to keep you together. The only thing more unavoidable, inevitable, and unescapable than fate, is Link himself.

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

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

In moments of passion, he changes a bit, unlike other more submissive yans who stay consistent in their reverence and desire to please.

You see, after a while, being as lenient and tolerant and flexible and completely devoted as he is... constantly self-sacrificing in so many ways, to you, to Hyrule, to the world... some frustrations build up. It's a big, big bottle of emotion, all tucked away and festering, getting greater and greater and eventually it has to explode somehow.

His reservations and inhibitions fall away. Perhaps a darker, more selfish side comes out. Perhaps that's why he's so rough. He knows he'll regret it later, the bruises from how hard he grips, the marks from the bites, but the hormones and the heat takes over. He'll feel bad for defiling you. He'll apologize. And he'll do it again. And again. And again.

But once the resolve crumbles, it topples. That is, he can't partially maintain it -- if it's partially gone, it falls apart completely. He lets go, so to speak. And when he lets go, you find that underneath that carefully constructed resolve and willpower that holds him back, he can be a very, very rough and possessive lover. In his normal state, he wouldn't dare think of you as a possession, or as something he's even worthy of. He would like so, so much to think that, to feel like he's allowed to -- but he doesn't. He chastises himself for even having such a desire. But in those moments, when his resolve is gone and his brain isn't thinking quite too clearly, he might even have to audacity to say "mine." Even if it's not true, not now, maybe it will be. He would like that so much. His and his alone.

And in a moment of clarity, he might even throw away the inhibition on purpose. The more selfish side, the same Link that drags you away from your destiny -- he's already forsaken his responsibilities, hasn't he? Why care anymore about the structures that no longer exist, your status and his, if there's no kingdom left? He likes that it happened, even. This way, this time, you can throw off those titles, those roles. Without your status, your title, there's nothing stopping him from making you his. And you will be his, and nothing more. It's all you need to be. So he doesn't have to care anymore about any of that, he doesn't have to stop himself from going wild. Biting into every little spare patch of skin, covering your body with marks that make him feel comforted to see.

As far as drive it's a bit of a two-sided duality. Outwardly he's not a very sexual person at all, blushes and stutters and averts his gaze at the slightest mention of suggestive topics, tries his best to be Respectful(tm) by always looking away when you're in a compromising position, or your skirt flies up, etc etc. Given how constant his vigilance is, he has a tendency to accidentally walk in on your changing or bathing, except unlike with many yanderes, it's genuinely an accident. Not that the image doesn't stick in his mind, nor does he wish he hadn't gotten to see, but he does feel guilty, and it was genuinely unintentional. He kinda freezes up, so it takes a moment for him to actually snap out of it and run out.

That being said, he quickly develops something of a masturbation addiction when he's younger, it starts as more of a stress reliever than anything, He's so sweet and always feels bad about talking about his problems and feelings, so that and, well, violence are the only ways he can get it out. Thus he learns to channel stress and nerves into sexuality, and once he has a real living body and not just his hand, that dependency on cumming to relieve it doesn't change.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

Particularly so, yes, cares quite a bit. And it takes a while for him to feel comfortable. Even consensually, the first few times he touches you for several months, he's got trembling hands and stays quieter than ever, constantly freezes up every time you move or make a noise because he thinks he's done something wrong. He has to be coaxed into feeling more comfortable before he gets used to it, but he will build confidence over time.

As addressed before, though, if he's pushed and pushed and pushed long enough, you can get a darker side to come out. This is most likely something that would only occur post-kidnapping in a distant time, once he's far away from any possibility of consequence and destruction has set in to the world around you. He starts to get a little bitter, if you've been mean to him. It all builds up. Don't you get that he's literally saved your life? That he devoted every waking second to you? Isn't he kinda entitled to some thanks? The cycle of time never rewards him. Even the figures he helps over time rarely give him more than a verbal praise and thanks, maybe an item here or there, and then disappear. His role feels thankless. He starts to feel like he deserves something, something tangible, in return.

Surprisingly, though, he actually does not take the route of guilt-tripping or emotional manipulation or gaslighting his way into it like a lot of the sweeter yanderes when he does have that snap. His snaps/breakdowns are rather extreme in terms of how much of a polar opposite they are to his normal state, rather than just a slight bend of his normal personality. Rather than taking the route of most yanderes like himself, he just gets directly physically forceful. Still somewhat sweet, though, reminds you he loves you, he'd die for you, you're his entire world. You'd argue that doesn't really change the actions, but considering how frightening he is in that state, you're not dumb enough to vocalize that.

The guilt consumes him alive afterwards. Like, immediately afterwards. He's still panting and twitching and buried inside when it sets in. That being said, he doesn't get to stuttering and profusely apologizing, like he does over smaller offenses. It's all done and he can't take it back, so he just kinda collapses and says nothing. He's not the best with words, you know. It's an odd mixture of guilt and, honestly, a bit of satisfaction and relief. It feels like letting go of some self-imposed burden, that feeling of finally surrendering to some deep want, even if it comes with a lot of remorse, the relief of finally letting go does have a good feeling as well... and because of that, it’s another one of those barriers that, once broken, can’t be built up again.

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

In all honesty the boy is, for the most part, a fairly gentle and vanilla lover. He doesn't really need anything special to get off -- he's easily excited and cums very very easily too. Just the prospect of getting to stick his dick in you in any capacity is enough to make him nearly burst at the thought honestly.

In general, as aforementioned, he's very very cautious and gentle to a point, but has a tendency to get actually kinda rough once he gets into it. The thing is, the roughness aspect is actually unintentional. He's one of those boys that is a little bit unaware of his own strength, doesn't process exactly how hard and fast he's going. He just gets lost in the feeling, kinda enters a dazed lusty haze where he's less aware of his actions. Doesn't realize he's literally got an iron grip pressing your head down on his dick or into the bed until you start flailing your hands because you can't breathe. Doesn't realize how hard he was gripping until he sees the bruises on your arms and hips later. That sort of deal -- poor thing is just unaware and doesn't have enough blood in his brain to think straight.

Biting

Surprisingly a really big one for him. (Remnants of a past life cycle with some lupine experiences perhaps?) In all seriousness, he could not explain exactly why if asked, it's one of those "I just like it" sort of things. It feels like yet another way to conjoin the two bodies, pulls you close. The marking aspect is also nice. Granted, he feels guilty afterwards, tries to help it heal. He has that same duality where moments ago he was this intimidating beast of a human being, rough and growly and jerking you like you were weightless, and now he's back to this bright eyed softie stuttering while he apologizes.

The guilt is mixed with a bit of enjoyment, though. It's constantly conflicting -- sure, part of him understands it's embarrassing and will help you cover up, but part of him doesn't want to, he wants people to see. Part of him looks at the marks and tells himself internally to never do that again, and part of him sees them and just wants to give you even more. It's a constant internal conflict, poor thing.

As far as a place, he likes the neck and shoulders best, simply because it's the most visible and it's the most passionate ones to create, when your bodies are tightly locked together. That being said, though, he also has a thing for biting at the insides of your thighs. It's another one of those I just like it sort of things.

Sometimes, when you're asleep, or pretending to be, you can feel him trace the bite marks with his fingers, softly running them over the circular pattern, just enough to barely ghost over your flesh.

Somnophilia

It puts him at ease. This one is particularly prevalent towards the beginning of your relationship, before you really know... how he is. He has this image of you as so pure and he couldn't bear the thought of defiling you with his horrible horrible thoughts. The guilt eats away at him for a while, but eventually he just can't hold back, but how could he ever do anything to you and risk consequence? So... the solution he comes up with is waiting until you sleep.

He tests the waters to see how heavy of a sleeper you are. Calls your name at increasing volume, lightly runs his fingers over your hair, pokes your face, whispers in your ear, runs his hands over your arms. Just to see what makes you rustle, if anything, so he knows the limits. If it turns out you're an incredibly light sleeper, well, unfortunately that means he's limited to just jerking off to your sleeping form, but that's ok. Just seeing your soft face and the cute way you breathe, the slightest way your lips open, that's enough for him.

If it turns out you're a heavier sleeper though, well, he tries to fight the temptation, but ends up going further. Slowly climbs onto your bed, careful to make the weight shift as gently as possible. Slowly pulls the covers back. Runs his hands up and down. It's a lot better when he can actually see your body as he jerks off, honestly. If he's feeling particularly risky, he might press your thighs together, feel how soft your skin is to his cock, how nice the squeezing pressure between them is.

He gets easily lost in a haze, though, so he inevitably ends up accidentally cumming on you and has to frantically find a way to lightly dab it up without waking you. He panics quite a bit, but that doesn't stop him from doing it again the very next night.

Overstimulation/Forced Orgasm

It just means he's doing a good job, really. Sure, you squeal and kick your feet back and forth and tug at his hair, but that's just because it feels good. Orgasms equate to love and feel good, right? Sure there's a little bit of pain when you go overboard, but then it just leads to feeling even better, right?

It's kind of an irrational compulsion rather than a logical goal, though. He just has an impulsive need to feel you quiver and spasm and clench, it basically gives him a chemical high hit and a wave of reassurance, makes him feel good in both the physical sense and the emotional sense. The first one sends him into this compulsive need to feel it over and over and over again, as many times as he can. It's another one of his internal conflict things -- sure, he knows it's hurting, but he just has to get one more. Just one more. But of course, every time turns into "just one more" when he's been saying that for half an hour now.

And, to be honest, it kind of gives him a pride boost to think he can make you cum against your will. How many people struggle to achieve that even when both parties are trying? It makes him feel good in an adequacy sort of way, he feels needed.

Size Kink/Distension

You know, there's a well-known thing among the male-lovers in this world when it comes to size. It's never the arrogant, loud guys, it's never the social butterflies, it's never the tall guys, it's never the beefy muscly guys. No, they're not the ones that end up somehow bestowed with absolute monster cocks. It's always the soft, lean boys who don't talk much. And they're always painfully unaware of it, too.

He's no exception. Not to the size or the complete lack of awareness. He hasn't spent a lot of time around guys his age too much, he's always been the one sent for some special task and ends up out in the wilderness by himself on journeys, or, in some lifetimes, accompanying you most of the time. He doesn't know what the average dick looks like, so he has no idea he's far above average.

This might sound like a plus, and of course in some ways it is, but also he doesn't think about the fact that the average body isn't properly equipped to handle it. You're supposed to just kinda put it in, that's how the sex works, right? Poor thing, especially if it's entirely consensual sex, he's just kinda ???? because why are you in pain? What is he doing wrong? You have to eventually explain it's literally just his body, not something he's doing.

That being said, naturally, he's a humble person, but hearing you say that does kinda... make him feel good inside. A little bit proud. He's not a person who takes a lot of pride in many things, so he likes having this one thing, and quickly notices you can visibly see it through the bulge it makes in your stomach. Especially if it's in a position where your back is pressed to his front, every little movement creates the bulge, so expect to get a lot of that.

He doesn't really bring it up much or talk about it when he's actually fucking you, it's more like, as with many things, something he's quietly aware of and silently enjoys a lot internally, even if it's not voiced.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

Yes and no. It has to do with his overactive protection instinct. What if something happened or went wrong? He couldn't take that. He couldn't lose you.

At the same time, he likes kids, and he's very good with them, very patient. And over time, realizes that a kid would be the perfect tool of manipulation, and besides that, isn't it a beautiful thing, an ultimate manifestation of love?

So how to work around that... Ultimately, what he decides to do is have a kid... Just not by blood. There are plenty of orphans in Hyrule, wandering the streets and the wilderness, picking one up is easy. ...You wouldn't leave this poor child to suffer out there, to fend for themselves, would you? Nor would you leave him to take care of it by himself... Right?

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

Oh, it's not like he thinks of it that way. He would call it... a reminder. You put yourself in danger again? You tried to go back again? You were gone and for ten whole minutes he didn't know where you were? What could the solution to this issue be? The only thing his brain can really come up with is making sure you need him. Making sure you're content and satisfied here with him so you don't go running off.

Thus we return to the forced orgasm thing -- see, you do need him. It feels good, right? You say it hurts, and maybe it does a little, but ultimately you wouldn't be cumming if it wasn't good. No one else can ever do that. No one else knows you like this. No one else was made for you like this. You can't replace him. You need him. And he can keep going as many times as it takes until you see that, too. Even if he gets milked dry, he has a mouth and hands for a reason.

And by "until you see that," I mean until you say it. In his more... emotionally intense moments, he gets a bit insistent. He needs to hear you say it. Admit it to yourself. And to him. That you need him, that you depend on him, that you'll never leave again. And don't think your patience and tolerance can stand a chance of outlasting his -- it will keep going until you say it.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

He's one of those wholesome type of boys who goes with something sweet. He says maybe your hair, your face, your skin, your eyes. It's all so comforting. So familiar. Of course, not to say that he doesn't like your less wholesome mentionable parts, but he wants to be chivalric about such a question, and feels answering that way would be too disrespectful.

In his unspoken thoughts, though, he likes the hips. It's a part of you he can grab onto and hold you close with. He puts his hands there a lot and holds tight, like he feels like at any moment you could slip out of his grasp. And, I mean, it's nice to look at, can't forget that.

#atml #scheduled post #yandere x reader #yandere legend of zelda #yandere link

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dracowars · 3 years

Note

Really love your draco ficsss 🤗🤗🤗 i was wondering if you can make one before the war where draco obliviated reader then looks for her after the war aaaa would love to see your take on ittt tag me

remember me | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x reader

word count: 1,8k

summary: where draco obliviates y/n

a/n: while doing research for this one i didn’t even know that when you use obliviate, you can’t reverse it anymore if you’ve used the wand for another spell :o i guess you always learn something new lmao @belladaises i hope you like it! <3

warnings: angst, mentions of blood

universe: harry potter

Footsteps and screams echo through the dark corridors of Hogwarts as Draco finds himself in one of the hallways after apparating there mere seconds ago. Getting to the right place at the right time, he immediately gets hold of some of the Slytherins, including his friends, whom he pulls with him, informing them about his – or rather Lord Voldemort’s – plan. Draco knows what he has to do, but he also knows the consequences his actions will have.

His hands are shaking, and he is having a difficult time to breathe after they walked from one side of the castle to the other, wands drawn and always at the ready in case there are any emergencies or incidents on their way. What Draco did not expect, however, is that he will find you along his way.

With a pained expression on your face, you lean against one of the cold brick walls, about to lose your footing and to fall to the ground when Draco is already at your side and catches you in his arms before you can hit the hard floor. Previously, he quickly ordered Blaise and Goyle to move on without him and wait for him until he is done here. Carefully, Draco sinks to the ground with you and places you close to him in order to be able to take a closer look at you.

“Y/N! Y/N, what happened?”, he asks you with concern in his voice and already reproaches himself internally for not being here to fight by your side. But he knows that he can’t. After all, you are on the opposite sides in this terrible war.

Slowly, you raise your head and do not seem to recognize him at first, until your vision clears, and you look directly into his worried face. You immediately push yourself closer to him, his closeness bringing you some calmness and making you feel protected and safe, although walls are blown up around you while wizards and witches give their lives in the bitter fight for Hogwarts.

“D-Draco? You are here”, you breath out, your voice rough and strained from your previous screams. You had split up into groups to face the Death Eaters, but you were separated from them when a part of the ceiling fell down, several pieces burying you beneath them. The hope that is now reflected in your eyes upon seeing him, here and with you, breaks Draco’s heart. You really think he is on your side.

It is only when you groan in pain that Draco realizes that you are clutching your leg, which is covered in blood.

“Come on, I will get you out of here”, he whispers to you and helps you straighten up, the guilt plaguing him. You are badly injured, and he was not here to prevent you from getting hurt. Carefully, he puts your arm around his shoulder so you can move faster together than if he would carry you. Since it is not anything than safe here right now, Draco hurries to get you out of there as fast as possible.

“It is not as bad as it looks. I promise”, you try to calm him down, but once your foot touches the ground you twitch in insufferable pain and pull your foot back with a hiss, your hand immediately going to your tigh where it hurts the most.

“What happened?”

“I was careless and then a part of the ceiling buried me beneath it.”

The shock on Draco’s face is enormous when he realizes what could have happened, how it could have ended with you laying under masses of bricks with no one knowing. That he could and still can lose you in this bitter war for life and death. Briefly, he carefully inspects your leg – broken – and without any hesitation, he picks you up in his arms and carries you to a safer place. The safest place would probably be where all students, who do not fight, are hiding, but if Draco asked you about it, he would have to pass this very important piece of information on. And thus, he would also leave you to a terrible fate.

“You are safe here. For the time being”, he finally says as he places you at the end of a staircase that no longer leads to where it originally should, and kneels down in front of you, stroking his hand over your cheek lovingly. Shaking, you place your own on top of his and press his palm to your skin to feel its warmth.

“Draco, if we make it to the seventh floor then-“

“Do not tell me. Please”, he almost begs you. His pleading leaves you puzzled and slowly but surely makes you doubt why he is actually here. Gently, Draco takes your hand in his and places a delicate kiss on your knuckles. You sadly watch him until you bring up the courage to ask this one question that burns on your tongue.

“Why are you here, Draco?”

The realization hits you like a train, much more painful than the pain in your leg, when he just looks at you with glassy eyes and fails to give you an answer. Tears well up in your eyes when you notice that you no longer have your loving boyfriend in front of you, but your enemy.

“Why, Draco?”, you ask him desperately, the first tear already finding its way down your cheek, but Draco does not have the heart to look into your eyes, too scared to see the pain and disappointment in them. Sighing, he shakes his head, letting it sink.

“Everything will be fine, I promise”, he manages to say while his heart contracts in pain. Suddenly, he perceives voices that are still far away, but he hears them coming closer. With trembling hands, he reaches for your wand, which is sticking out of your boot as he has made his final decision. Confused, you look back and forth between him and the wand in his hand.

“What are you going to do? D-Draco? You do not have to do this”, you stutter out as he looks directly at you with his gray eyes which seem much darker now. Gray eyes that once shone with so much affection and now only radiate a tremendous coldness that makes you shudder.

“Now listen carefully to what I say, Y/N. You have to promise me that you will not use your wand anymore”, Draco explains to you, but you can only look at him speechlessly while tears run down your cheeks in waterfalls, not knowing what he will do next.

“I am so sorry”, is the last thing he says to you before casting a spell. “Obliviate.”

With these words, Draco pulls any memories you have of him out of your mind. Every shared laughter, every shared grief, he frees you from all of it. He frees you from the burden of ever knowing him.

With one quick movement he puts your wand back in its original place and quickly stands up, watching how your face loses all emotion as you abruptly stop crying over nothing. Before he can regret his decision, he turns away from you and looks into the corridor from which he previously heard the voices. At the other end of the corridor, he discovers Neville Longbottom, who is running through Hogwarts with some students. Clenching his fists, Draco walks in the middle of the corridor, facing them from afar.

“Neville!”, Draco shouts as loud as he can, immediately gaining Neville’s attention, who now comes running towards him with his wand drawn, ready to attack. Draco swiftly runs back to where you still lean against the wall, but just as Neville turns around the corner, Draco disapparates to another part of Hogwarts.

You are safe at last.

════════════

Surrounded by nothing but rubble and ashes, Draco wanders through the last remains of Hogwarts alone. His clothes are torn apart, and his face is soiled – all signs of the bitter fight that took place here before. But now it is over. They lost.

But Draco does not care who won or lost. He chose to switch sides in the end anyway. All he wants now is one more thing: to find you and to make sure you are okay. Every time he trips over a lifeless body on the ground, he looks away in fear that he may recognize your face in one of the corpses. Pressing his hand against his aching left shoulder, he walks into what is left of the Great Hall and a glimmer of hope builds inside of him as he recognizes Neville standing in the middle of it.

Quickening his pace, Draco walks towards him, his gaze fixed on the people he is currently talking to. When Draco gets to them, however, his heart sinks and panic pervades him as he does not see you. You are not here.

Desperately searching for any signs of you, he looks around, his pulse getting faster by the second, until Neville finally taps on his shoulder and points to somewhere behind him. Draco turns around immediately, only to see you limp into the Great Hall with the help of Ginny Weasley, improvised stabilization around your broken leg.

Tears of joy well up in Draco’s eyes and he cannot help but run up to you and close you in a tight hug that almost knocks the both of you off your feet. Draco exhales in relief, clutching his arms around your fragile body, glad to hold you in his arms again, until he notices that you are trying to push him away.

Realization his Draco and he abruptly moves away from you.

“What was that supposed to mean?”, you ask him reproachfully, irritated as to why Draco Malfoy almost suffocated you in a hug.

“I- Well-“, he stutters, but the fact that you actually do not know him anymore is driving an ache through Draco’s chest again. “Where is your wand?”

“Excuse me?”, you huff out, the confusion evident on your face, but Draco quickly reaches for you wand before you can react, which pokes out of your boot, as always. Internally praying that you listened to him and did not use it when he was not by your side, he reverses the Memory Charm and watches a white streak touch your temple, piercing through your skin before vanishing completely.

You blink once, then a few times rapidly, adjusting your eyes to the light and when your gaze falls on Draco, tears well up in your eyes right away.

“Thank God”, Draco sighs in relief and hugs you tightly, but this time you actually return the hug. Weeping, you claw your hands into his shirt, your tears wetting the fabric, whispering what an idiot he had been and that he should never do this to you again. But at this moment nothing else matters.

You survived and found each other again despite the difficulties and obstacles. And from now on nothing and no one will separate you again. Ever.

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xxwritemeastoryxx · 3 years

Text

Demons Within

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

Request: Angst fic where Elijah accidentally kills reader bc he’s lost control? (Red door Elijah?) -Anon

Word count: 2K

Warnings: Chatacter death, angst, canon typical blood and gore.

Author’s Note: Welcome to day two of may madness! I hope after yesterday’s fic that you guys are still looking forward to the next month’s worth! Here’s an angsty fic that I know you guys have been waiting for! Day two and going strong!

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. ♥

Y/N was running for her life. Not the on the run from Mikael, running for life. This time, it was different. Y/N was running from the one person she never thought she ever would run from.

Fear wasn’t supposed to be coursing through her, but in that moment it had. She shouldn’t have been afraid of the person that was after her. She should have been able to stand her ground and fight, just as she always had. She should have been able to break through to the man that was after her. But after several failed attempts, there was nothing else she could do.

It didn’t matter how fast she ran or how far she went, she knew there was no getting away. She could hear the way his own feet met the ground. The crunching of the leaves under the weight of his shoes loud in her ears as she ran. She didn’t dare a glance back. She knew he was right there, almost within reach. She should know, this was her husband she was running from.

There were many things that Y/N had known in her existence. She watched as the world changed around her and her loved ones as they went on with their lives. People they had once known long gone, either by their own hands or the passage of time. Being a vampire, an original at that, meant the lives of the people you knew were gone in the blink of an eye.

As the years passed like simple hours, there were things they survived. Things that they faced, enemies they fought and bested. And even those that are immortal are faced with darkness that even they don’t know the depths of the darkness that lay within them. It was that darkness that was deeply rooted in her husband’s subconscious that caused her to run for her life.

Esther’s magic had done as intended. The facade that Elijah hid behind throughout the majority of his existence, had been destroyed. The red door left wide open with slightest of triggers that enabled the darker side of himself to breach the surface.

Y/N should have been able to break through to him. She should have been able to reach the man that she knew was currently buried underneath the darkness. For the few times she had almost lost him to that darkness, she had been able to pull him back. She had watched as her words of love and care had caused the coldness in his eyes to disappear and return to the warm, inviting brown that she had grown to love. But it hadn’t worked this time around.

The soft touch of her fingers running along his face as the veins under his eyes played should have made him recognize who was in front of him. The way they trembled slightly as they moved down to his neck, should have recognized that she would still be there for him while he fought it. But it was the way his hand had grabbed a hold of her arm and twisted it in a way that a sickening snap could be heard before she cried out in pain that told her, he was deeper in the abyss than he had ever been.

Her few simple steps back caused him to take a step towards her with each one. The darkness within his eyes every indication that he had no recognition of her. That the woman he loved was currently a stranger, a threat that needed to be dealt with.

It was the reason she ran. The only reason that she decided to turn and run from him. She needed to give him time. Time to hopefully get through the darkness that was surrounding him. To hopefully come to his senses before he could get a hold of her. Y/N knew that he could and that he would.

Y/N may have been Elijah’s wife, but she had turned a handful of years after he had turned. She was strong, but not as strong as he could be. She had to at least out smart him for the time being. To keep herself alive for as long as she could, because even she knew that in a fight against her husband, she would lose.

It was when Elijah’s footsteps went quiet that she stopped running. The woods that surrounded them thick enough for her to hide in plain sight. She turned quickly in search of him. But her eyes couldn’t spot him. Her mind screamed that he must have come to his senses, that he wasn’t going to hurt her.

Her ears trying to pick up anything. The slightest movements of anything that would indicate where he was. But she couldn’t hear anything. Even her breathing had been silenced knowing that Elijah would be able to hear it in some form or another. She knew he was out there, she just didn’t know where.

As her eyes moved along the trees in her eyesight, her head tilted as she took in a tree not too far off. There was something familiar about. It was the way some of the branches had been broken to one side. The leaves barely hung on as the slight breeze made its way through.

It was then that realization had hit her. Elijah had been steering her in the direction that he wanted. She was supposed to be the one in control of this situation. But the tree proved that she had currently been going in circles. A game of chase that she knew Elijah was all too familiar with.

That was when she felt his hand grab a hold of her arm and spun her around before pinning her to the tree beside her. A startled yelp passed her lips as he had done so. Not by the action itself but the way Elijah had now looked as he stood before her.

The clean suit he had on some time ago had now been covered in blood. Blood had covered his lips and trickled down his neck. The blood pooled at his collar of his white button up. His eyes still filled with murder. She lifted her hand up to cover her mouth as she looked him over. She knew that for the few moments she had lost him, he had found someone else to prey on before he returned for her.

“‘Lijah.” She said with a slight shake of her head as she dropped her hand. Y/N knew she needed to get through to him. “It’s me. You know me. You’ve known me for centuries.”

Their eyes never left the others. Even as Elijah kept her pinned against the tree, he never looked away from her eyes. Deep down within Elijah he knew her eyes were familiar. That they were something that had always brought comfort to him. But all he could see was a threat that needed to be taken care of.

She was to be another body that he had kept locked away behind the red door. For as his mother had once said to him, the women he loved were butterflies. Ones that he loved to tear the wings off of them. And in his darkened thoughts, Y/N was a butterfly ready to be dewinged.

Her voice, while familiar, hadn’t brought any recognition to his mind once more. Even when he heard her words earlier that day, they hadn’t meant anything to him now. Not even as she explained who she was before he brought his hand up to her throat.

Y/N placed her hand on top of his trying to pull his hand away from her. But the harder she fought to get his hand away from her neck, the tighter his grip became. Y/N gasped as she tried to at least break any of the bones in his hand to get some reaction out of him. Just before she expected to hear the sickening crack of a bone breaking, he had pulled her away from the tree by her neck, before slamming her back against it.

Her hands fell to her sides as she looked Elijah in the eyes. Her mind racing for something, anything that could be done. “You know me, Elijah.” Her voice strangled against his hold. “I can show you.”

She lifted her hand once more, bringing it up slowly to his face. If she couldn’t get through to him with words or touch, she was going to try through memories. He watched as she raised her hand up to his face slowly. His eyes going back and forth between the two before her fingers brushed along his face.

It was enough to begin a small connection. One that Y/N had barely been able to show how they met before a loud cry of pain left her lips, causing her hand to fall from his face and the connection lost. Her eyes looked down to see Elijah remove his hand from her neck, only to see the other shoved into her chest.

The way his hand gripped on her heart told her he could feel every beat of it. Every chance it tried to pump the blood through her veins, he could feel it. He was literally holding her life source in his hand.

Tears of pain and sadness began to flow out of her eyes as she watched him. He was studying her for a moment. It was strange to both of them. It was if there was a part of him that was fighting to save her, or even kill her. It was the way his head tilted as his hold on her tightened.

Another scream passed her lips. She was afraid to move. Afraid to try anything. The pain that radiates through her overpowering anything else she was trying to get through her mind. She knew if she tried anything else, all Elijah had to do was pull and that’d be the end of it.

It was then that her mind had made a decision. The thought itself had caused the tears to rush down her face a little more before she nodded her head. Her eyes took in his face one last time. She wanted to see it. She wanted him to see that it was going to be okay.

“I-it’s okay.” She found it becoming harder to speak. Even as she spoke she felt the way his hand moved even the slightest bit, causing her to groan. “I’m not scared. I promise. It’s n-not your fault if you do this. It’s going to be okay. Just know that I love you.”

It was as she went to place her hand on top of his arm, as a comforting touch, she felt the tug of her heart. With one last cry of pain, Y/N went slack against the tree. Her heart in Elijah’s hand as he took a step back, watching as Y/N’s body fell to the ground a moment later.

The cold unrecognizable eyes were still dark as he dropped her heart by her body. For the threat he acknowledged earlier had been subdued. The threat to his family and even to himself had been taken care of. His actions are no longer hidden behind the red door that haunted him for centuries. It became easy to walk away from the body that was now ashen gray.

But deep down, the part of him that was drowning in the darkness knew that he had just lost the woman he loved to the very monster his parents created. Where she was the light in his life, the darkness that surrounded him smothered her and he was once again left with nothing.

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#The Originals #The Vampire Diaires #Elijah Mikaelson #Demons within #Elijah Mikaelson x reader #Elijah Mikaelson imagine #Elijah Mikaelson fics #Elijah Mikaelson one shot #Elijah Mikaelson angst #Red door! Elijah Mikaelson #Reader insert #The Originals fics #The Originals imagines #The originals one shots #TVD #TO

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styx1an · 3 years

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A Chat about Chat

A short fic about how Chat came to be a singular being, written by yours truly. By all means, this isn’t canon, it’s just my interpretation of things.

Word count: 1,863

Fandom: RTGame, Miitopia (NGL I’m a little displeased with how I wrote the ending, but oh well!)

You know, there is this odd sense of irony in knowing how terrified Chat was of Magical John when they aren’t even human nor a singular being in the first place. Wait, so you didn’t know? Of how they became such a being in the first place? (They chuckle.) Then I suppose that means I’ll have to tell you their story. Well then, shall we begin the tale of Chat? (You see the twinkle in their eyes. They must’ve been waiting a while to be able to do this.)

> You nod. You’ve been waiting a while to understand Chat’s origins. Tonight, like many others, belongs to the storyteller.

> You shake your head. No thanks, you think you’re too tired. Dawn shall rise anew soon, and you will not waste your time with tall tales.

(They nod, pleased with your decision.) Then I shall begin to relay their tale.

Our tale begins in the vast lands known as Twitch, a domain that belongs to another, a far crueler being whose tale is for another time. It is a place where one is free to express their opinions and whatnot (as long as it suits the many whims of its Amazonian overlords, of course), and many are versed in the easy to learn, but difficult to master art of gaming. Many such masters have gained a large following, and even if they do not possess such skill, more often than not their humor and charisma paves the way to fame.

One example of the latter would be RTGame, a man of sizable repute. Aside from the frankly ridiculous story of the origin of his moniker, he is also known for doing some… questionable things for the sake of entertainment. There are still tales of his quest in the bathtub along with Gilbert (yes, the very same Gilbert on the quest to defeat The Darker Lord Khadgar!), the night of the Painted Wall’s Communion, the birth of Mr. Compost- But my dear, we are here for one of his lesser-known exploits, one that would change the world as we know it.

> You lean closer to the campfire, watching the storyteller with a renewed interest. Where does the tale lead? Where does it end? You need to know.

> It’s getting even later. You think some rest will be needed before tomorrow’s travels begin. Perhaps the rest of the story can wait another time?

It was a dark and stormy night. The then-Dark Lord Von Karma had just been unleashed upon the land, and I Want Die set along the path of salvation with his fellow party members, Mr. Bean the Warrior, Goofy the Thief, and Mint the Horse. He was pleased with the ease with which they vanquished monsters and saved (literal) faces, but the lack of actual conversation within the party had begun to get to him. Mr. Bean had nothing to offer other than a simple “Bean!” every now and then, and Goofy terrified him with all the “hyuck!” and talks of absolving the world’s many sins. Mint is a horse and therefore cannot participate in a verbal conversation unless you happen to understand what her neighs meant. She also happens to be the most normal member of the party, strangely enough.

Either way, I Want Die longed for a proper conversation.

And God took notice.

It was inevitable. The fourth party member was always going to join, whether he wanted one or not. It shouldn’t be notable in any way whatsoever, yet here I am regaling this tale to you.

It is not how Chat had come to join the party that I wanted to explain, but rather how they came to be.

Do you remember the man I had called RTGame? I hope you had not thought of him as irrelevant to our tale, as he is the patron saint of I Want Die’s adventures. Surely you know of the vast armory that belongs to the party? The various delicacies fed to the team? All his work. Along with his followers’ contributions, of course.

Chat was what he called his followers, the ones who watched his various endeavors as he traveled across the land of Twitch. Oftentimes the crowd would conversate with him (hence their name), offering jokes and sardonic commentary whenever he did anything remotely comedic. Other times, RT would have to tell them off for being such a rowdy bunch- the usual group of thousands could never keep quiet for long.

It happened that Chat witnessed I Want Die’s pilgrimage along with RTGame. They all looked upon him with a jolly sense of humor (after all, their master is well-versed in the art of comedy), some wondering where his travels will bring him. The others who knew how it would all end kept silent at the behest of RTGame. Either way, every single one of them was enjoying the show he had put on for them.

And came the time to summon the fourth member.

As per usual, RTGame withdrew into his workshop, closing the curtains around him so no curious onlooker could see inside. But that did not stop Chat from yelling their predictions and demands.

“EDGEWORTH” one cried.

Another begged for a certain “End Mii!”

“CHAT CALM DOWN!”

“!uptime”

“69420toesucker just subscribed for 5 months!”

“TURG”

RTGame smiled at them. He wasn’t surprised at all at their reactions, rather it was something he had hoped would happen.

“Alright then Chat,” he said, “here they are!”

His pale, thin hands reached out to open the curtains-

And unveiled a faceless, empty husk of a being.

Under any other circumstances, Chat would’ve rioted, demanded justice against the irony of sending a faceless doll to retrieve the faces of others. But they had no time.

Almost in an instant, the skies darkened. Clouds swirled up above with vibrant shades of violet, cobalt, magenta. Bright blue lightning strikes a tree and dissolves it into dust. Somewhere distant, something roars. The air feels thick- something magical, something electric is positively buzzing. Magic truly is in the air.

And thunder strikes once again.

The crowd is gone.

Silence fell. All that is left is the master and the doll, no longer an empty husk.

> You look up to the storyteller, their eyes reflecting the blazing flames. You have a feeling that you know how this ends, but you’d rather have them confirm it first.

> You’re sleepy. As tempting as it is to continue listening to their story, you must admit that the very idea of slumber is even more tantalizing.

RTGame had managed to do exactly what he wanted. Chat’s consciousness, placed inside of a single, physical being. A puppet controlled by a hivemind would not be very easy to control, yes. But the idea intrigued him. And wouldn’t it be better than having a large gaggle of people constantly behind him, watching his every move? It could help I Want Die on his journey too.

So it is settled. It happened that one of the members of his temple had just crafted a rather nice puppet, in case RT needed one. And he did come to use it. It does look a little plain, as both body and head are painted in the same shade of bright white. However, the face was not white like how it was in the beginning, but a disturbingly pitch-black space. No, that’s not the right word.

Rather, it was like a void had formed. That’s also not the right phrase to describe it either, as there were drops of ichor dripping down onto the ground, dissolving the once green grass. But I digress.

Chat broke the silence that had fallen between them, wailing as a cacophony of noises and emotions spilled out. Despite what RT had done to them, they were still determined to voice their opinions. Quite in character, really.

“RT WHAT”

“NO NO NO”

“!uptime”

“I'M ON TV!!!”

“bazingabanana just gifted 5 subs!”

“that’s kinda meta”

As their voices grew louder, ichor kept pouring out of the void. As expected, RT thought to himself. He still needs to act fast. So with a quick snap, he fastened a wooden mask the temple-goer made; the same shade of white, a pair of beady black eyes almost as dark and soulless as the void, bright purple ears.

The yelling and complaining didn’t stop of course. Still, as their voices were muffled by the mask, it was an arguably better experience than the previous ear-splitting wails. And it was less deadly too. Ichor had stopped dripping down onto the grass, which meant that the constant sizzling would finally stop.

Now, one last thing.

RT stared into Chat’s eyes.

This in itself wouldn’t have been quite a remarkable action had it been anyone else, but it’s Chat that we are talking about. The very sensation of doing something as simple as gazing into a hivemind’s many souls wasn’t anything ordinary, either.

It felt like you had just plunged one of your hands into ice-cold water in the middle of winter and not only are you freezing, you’re scared and you don’t know whether you’d come out in one piece.

They all stared back. Thousands and thousands looked upon RT, all different yet whispering the same things, each claiming to be an individual yet virtually nothing distinctive belongs to them. A true hivemind. It’s exactly what he wanted, but he wondered if perhaps other troubles would arise.

He let himself go from their gazes. It asks too much of him.

“Alright then, Chat. Ready?”

A gaggle of voices reply, sounding their agreements.

“OK then!”

I Want Die finally opened the inn door, after convincing himself that he’d like this new friend. That this one would be neither an anime villain, a comedy star or a horse. Someone with actual rational thoughts and words to speak.

In front of the door stood a short figure, clad in a purple mage’s robes. Their pitch-black eyes looked at I Want Die, and a chorus of voices came from their permanent smile:

“Hi, I’m Chat!”

And I Want Die wondered if he had forgotten to cross off ‘hivemind’ off his list of potential party members.

Chat’s introduction ends here, of course. But not their tale. The journey was far from over in fact. The party had yet to meet the Royal Court, witnessed the court’s love affair, or get kidnapped by the Dark Lord Von Karma. Even the party wasn’t complete, as it was only the first party I Want Die would encounter in his tale of redemption.

And it’s not the only story either. You haven’t heard of Magical John’s past life, or how Cupcake isn’t as pure as she seems. Gilbert’s fear of the kitchen. How Jefferson came to be, and Obama’s past life with Mr. Bean.

But I’m afraid I must stop here, for it is late already, is it not? Our journey must continue tomorrow. Let us rest. Goodnight, may the stars shine for you. (They head off into their tent, leaving you alone with the flickering embers of a dying fire.)

> You bid the storyteller goodnight. Perhaps they’ll tell you another one of their stories, underneath the moonlight once more.

#rtgame #magical john #well i wrote! dont like how the latter half was written but ok #miitopia #writing #rtgamecrowd

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unmotivatedwrit3r · 3 years

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Don't Mess With a Wayne

Damian Wayne x reader

college athlete!batfam AU

(A/N): This is inspired by Ari (@prettylittlebrownskingyal )'s Jason hockey AU which you can read here. Mine focuses on Damian, so the two aren't similar and this isn't exactly a series (though i could do other things in this verse in the future possibly) but the hockey thing, I got from her.

Also, I know nothing about hockey and this has merely mentions of the sport.

warnings: minor character injury, mention of injury to others

in this AU: Bruce played professionally and was a legend. He attended Gotham U and broke every hockey record in existence. Dick quit when he got to college then graduated with a bachelors and now teaches hockey to kids. Jason made it to pro and then was injured and had to leave, Tim played for MIT and then dropped it, and Damian is on track to go pro as well.

It’s later than you hoped it would be when you arrive at Damian’s apartment, and you wrap your arms tighter around yourself to try to stave off the Gotham winter chill. It isn’t even that late in the fall, but the temperatures are dropping quickly at night, and the days are getting shorter.

When you check your watch before knocking on the door, the illuminated screen says it's already nine pm. You feel kind of bad that you’re so late; you got caught up with work at the library. On the plus side, your essay is done and you just need to edit it before you hand it in.

You hear rustling behind the door before it opens inward, and you smile at Damian’s roommate as he opens the door. You like Jon very much; he and Damian have been best friends for years, and when he came into your life, so did Jon by default. He’s wilder and more lighthearted than Damian, plays baseball instead of Damian’s hockey, and is overall one of the sweetest people on the planet. You’ve met his parents —his mom is a world famous journalist and his dad plays professionally for the Metropolis baseball team— and they are some of the most genuine people you’ve ever met. You also know for a fact that Jon eats the weirdest food combinations and is pretty smart under all the funny he displays outright.

“Hey Jon.” You peer to the side of him, into the living room. Usually the TV is on at this hour, and either one or both of them is watching something on it, either their own game plays (whether to critique their own performances or watch each other’s games) or something more along the lines of action TV shows. “Where’s Damian?” Jon’s eyes widen at your question, and his facial expression contorts into one that tells you he knows something that you’re not going to be happy with Damian about.

“Did he not tell you?” he asks, backing into the apartment. You close the door quickly behind you as you follow him, eyes narrowing.

“Tell me what?” Jon retreats, heading towards the kitchen to pull out an ice pack. You’re pretty sure it’s not for him. Baseball season isn't even close to it’s start date, so unless he tripped down the stairs, (which has happened before, but he’s moving fine and there are no bruises on his arms) it’s for Damian, who just became the youngest Captain to date of the Gotham University hockey team a couple weeks ago. You cut off Jon’s path around the kitchen table. “What happened?”

Jon’s eyes don’t meet yours, instead looking at the tiled floor. You spare it a glance. One of his socks has a hole in it. “Jon, tell me. I’m not mad at you.” Jon sighs and hands you the icepack.

“I promised him I wouldn’t tell anyone, and he should probably tell you. He’s in his room.” You nod and thank Jon, dropping your jacket and boots on the couch and the side of the door respectively before throwing your backpack back over your shoulder and grabbing the ice pack, heading to Damian’s room.

The lights are dim when you enter, and the light grey walls look darker then they usually do because of it. The room isn’t pitch black, though, so you can see that the only other person in the room is sitting on his bed, the TV on low volume in front of him.

Damian’s head turns towards you as you enter, and you stand by the light switch, closing the door softly behind you.

“Can I turn on the lights?”

“Sure.”

You push the dimmer switch up to full brightness and gasp when you see his face, rushing across the room to sit on his bed beside him. Damian’s lip is split in two places and a shiner decorates the underside of his right eye; a cut is held together by two butterfly bandages over his left eyebrow. He’s wearing a Gotham Paladins hockey t-shirt, probably one of his dad’s, and you can see a brace wrapped around his right elbow.

“Jeez, Dami, what happened?”

He winces as your thumb brushes over his split lip, your hand cradling his face.

“Couple of the bigger guys thought it would be funny to try and prove that a nineteen year old wasn’t meant to be captain.” He chuckles bitterly. “All they learned is not to mess with a Wayne.”

“You reported them, right?” Damian shrugs.

“I reported the so-called brains behind their plan. The others were just followers. Took a couple cheap shots and then ran when Harris went down.”

You run the name through your head. Harris is a large, mean senior who thought he was on track to lead the team that year, before Damian took the Captain title. He did have a bit of a following of younger players, but more and more had been pulling away since Damian became Captain, and the practices had been running better than ever before.

“What happened?” you ask, handing Damian the ice pack before you stand up to put your backpack by his desk chair, plugging your computer in on the desk. “What did they do to you?”

Damian shrugs. “Grabbed me, tried to force me down.” He lifts the shoulder to the arm with the bandage on the elbow. “It’s sprained.” Damian winces as the cold pack meets the bruise on his face. “I’m sure it was an attempt at intimidation.”

“And?” you ask, hoping for the answer of what he did to them in turn.

“Tt. Didn’t work, obviously.”

You can’t help but huff a laugh. “I know it didn’t. I didn’t think it would. I was just wondering what you did to them.”

Damian laughs. “Harris is in the hospital, if that’s what you were asking about. Black eye, broken wrist, and possibly bruised ribs, I can’t be sure. The rest of them took one good punch each before running. And even if Harris could play the season, there’s talk of expulsion, and he’s off the team.”

You shrug, walking back to the light switch to lower the brightness back to where it was before returning to Damian’s bed to sit beside him. “He deserved it, though. The guy’s an ass.”

Damian smiles at you, and a bloom of warmth shoots through your chest. He doesn't smile often, usually only in front of you or Jon or his family on rare occasions, and you think it’s the most beautiful thing in the world. “He is.”

You tuck Damian’s back against your chest and feel his head come to rest against your shoulder.

“But if you ever withhold information that involves your well-being from me again, you will regret it, you understand?”

You can hear Damian’s smirk in his words, but you both know you're not entirely joking. “Yes, of course, beloved.”

#damian wayne x y/n #damian wayne blurbs #my writing #damian wayne x you #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #college athlete AU #hockey!damian #hockey!batfam #hockey!damian wayne #emerson writes sometimes

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ultimateluckystudent-writes · 3 years

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Restraint

Summary: You and Nagito's flirtations are sickening. Izuru still sees himself as a cure. As per usual, he only makes things worse.

Word count: 5.2k

Content Warnings: Uneven Power Dynamics, Under-Negotiated Kink, Possible Dubcon, Dom/Sub, Spanking, Bondage, Choking, Mentions of Sickness, Degradation, Slut Shaming, Sex As 'Punishment', Slight Breeding Kink, Orgasm Denial, Female Reader, She/Her Pronouns

General Themes/Tags: Despair!Era, Despair!Reader, Sub!Reader, Sub!Nagito, Dom!Izuru, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism

Ao3 Link

A/N: Reader is a slut and Komaeda's a freak what can I say... also I'm sorry for doing this before requests but no I'm not I'm busy writing smut <3

Izuru found that there was indeed a certain kind of beauty to the handiwork of his knots. The candy-apple red rope, the color of the ruined sky, the color of his chemically altered eyes, the color of her nails, the color of despair, looked rather fetching when tied around Nagito’s pale wrists. His green-blue veins ran under it, visible through his sickly, translucent pale skin. Izuru could smell the cancerous cells on his breath alone. Just like a dog! A voice in his head that sounded just like hers sounded. Just like a dog, his own voice repeated.

“Enoshima tells me that your… indecision and cowardice..." Izuru droned as he circled around the uncomfortable, between the wooden chair Nagito was bound to and the edge of bed (Y/N) sat on. Unlike the rest of the ‘rooms’ the rest of the Despair were afforded in their base, which were really much more like modified holding cells, Izuru’s room was fitted with a regular queen-sized bed with threadbare sheets. He didn’t mind the sheets, but he wouldn’t have minded staying in a holding cell like the rest of them either. He wouldn’t have minded any of it.

“Has affected the operations of all of the Despair.” He glowered down at them, the shadows on his face looming even darker from their seated positions. Izuru caught her hands fidgeting in her lap, and how Nagito’s ever-twitching leg began to bounce even faster. “How pathetic.” He said of both their actions and reactions. The woman flinched visibly. Nagito’s leg stilled. “You are both acting like children. Simpering after each other expends so much of your time that you’ve managed to become even more useless to us than before as you fail to complete assigned tasks.” He crossed the room to stand right in front of (Y/N). Though all of his steps were light- in the way only the Ultimate Assassin, or Spy, or Ninja, and or the countless other multitudes of titles he fit aptly could be- or rather, perhaps because of this, both of their throats bobbed with a heavy swallow.

“Therefore,” His voice was quiet, but in the otherwise silent room, his two captives could hear him clearly. He placed his hand on her cheek. It was such a foreign movement from him, so calm, so sudden, that she almost gasped from it alone. It was much warmer than she expected. She realized as he stood over her, his well-fitted suit accentuating the already sharp angles of his perfect posture, his clothes heavy with the smoky scent of the fires blazing outside, his eyes indecipherable, that he was so much warmer than she expected. He thought idly that he could name every muscle in her face that tensed under his fingers. “You have been left to my discretion.”

“Ah, of course!” Nagito finally gushed, breaking the tension between the other two at once. Both of their heads snapped to look at the shaking, beaming man. He seemed to be enamoured with simply the prospect. His arms twitched and pulled at his bonds, but he had no intention of attempting escape. He merely forgot in his excitement that he could not hold himself. “I see no fate fitting more for my dearest- to be left to the hands of the Ultimate Hope- to be graced with Kamukura-sama’s presence, his touch-” He uttered a little moan, his eyes fluttering for just a bit. “For him to have already tied me up like the pathetic little vermin I am… He could truly do as he wishes with us...” Nobody in the room was surprised at his reaction, however, (Y/N) was a bit amused that he had shown his true colors as a fanatic quite so quickly. “Whatever despair he induces can only be overcome by the hope you two inspire by nearly being around me!” His eyes finally seemed to focus back onto his lover. They seemed to warm just by looking at her, a detail that sent an unfamiliar rush through her. If he had looked at her before, she had only just noticed, and was still unused to such… vulnerability nowadays. She quickly looked away. “I can only imagine what you must be feeli-”

“Enough.” Izuru finally snapped. Nagito silenced at once. He immediately schooled his expression into one of subtle pleasure. His naturally heavy-lidded eyes seemed almost heated in the particular situation. “This inane drivel is precisely the sorts of issues we’ve been having,” Izuru finally brought up his other hand, which contained an identical rope to the one wrapped around Nagito’s wrist like the perfect present. “And you’ve done little to end it.”

(Y/N) found that she had trouble looking at the red of Izuru’s eyes or the rope in his hands. Both cultivated more of the sickening feeling in her gut, the overwhelming dread that conjured images of Izuru idly pressing his foot down onto her fingers holding the edge of a cliff, supporting both her and Nagito’s weight. It felt like bile rising in her throat, only creeping further as she caught glances of either. As Izuru held the rope in front of her face, a wordless taunt, she refused to break her gaze. She wanted to rot in the feeling.

“Turn.” Izuru ordered. She knew at once it would be the first of many tonight. Though she had watched Izuru carefully as he bound Nagito, it was nothing compared to how despair-inducing it was to feel her miniscule chances of escaping reduce to less than nothing. Her breathing grew heavier as she felt those sure hands tie one knot, then two, then three, until she purposefully lost count of how many loops there were around her wrists. Every time his knuckles brushed against her arms, her pulse points, she wondered more and more if it was truly an accident. She had never known the Ultimate Hope to be capable of accidents. When he finished, the silence rang heavy in her ears. She had foolishly half-expected to hear praise, to hear the words ‘good girl’ fall from his lips.

“Pathetic.” He repeated instead, sending both her and Nagito’s teeth deeper into their own lips. She felt it deeply, kneeling on the bed, her back to the man she knew held her life in his hands, the man she cared for so deeply privy to every little thing that would be done to her without being able to do anything. The feeling in her stomach had begun to sink lower and lower, though it felt much more heated. She was a fool, but not a naive one. Izuru always knew what he was doing, including what tone he was setting. She felt her own legs begin to shake. “I’m sure by now the two of you understand where this is going. Bend over.”

She obliged like it was second nature. She obeyed like it might as well have been her own thoughts asking. She bent over and stuck her ass up and face into the mattress, right in front of Izuru, with a speed that surprised most of the room. Izuru, however, remained unfazed. He almost seemed to expect it. Her whole body felt hot, displayed like this for Izuru and subsequently Nagito. She knew he could see her panties he could see below her short skirt. She’d taken to wearing much skimpier clothes recently, especially when she began her… affair with Nagito. Despite herself, she wondered if he enjoyed them. He wouldn’t have been the first. She liked it when it was hard for people to touch her without coming in contact with her skin.

“Let this serve as a reminder to the both of you.” Izuru said behind her. She wondered how much closer he’d have to get to feel the vibrations of his deep voice. “None of you have any room for affection in you. You wouldn’t be with our association if you could. You saw how easily she bent over for me. You’re nothing special, Komaeda, she would take it from anyone if she could.” He paused. She didn’t even get to wonder why before her head was grabbed and roughly turned to the side so she was looking directly at Komaeda. His face was flushing, beginning to turn the red color of so many things around him, giving into the situation. Though his mouth was slightly agape as he took the scene before him, he seemed to be at a complete loss for words. She’d never seen him like this before. “Do you see how aroused he is at this? How eager he was for me? He’s much the same. You two are, for lack of a better word, whores. Easy-” He didn’t get to finish his sentence, as both of the other two released small moans at his words. (Y/N) thighs clenched as she tried her hardest not to back her eager body back up against him. Nagito rocked his own back and forth, attempting to find friction against his growing erection. Izuru sighed. “Precisely.”

With no other warning, he shoved her panties down her hips. A string of her slick connected them for just a second, quickly severed with no regard from Izuru. Nagito stopped rocking. He stared, mouth agape, at her now exposed pussy. She couldn’t even tell him to stop looking. She didn’t want him to stop looking. Behind her, she heard the familiar sound of a belt unbuckling. Once again, instinct took over, and she spread her legs further for him. The fabric of his pants and underwear rustled as he pulled them down just enough to pull his cock out and stroke it.

“Wow.” Nagito muttered, looking all for the world like he didn’t even realize he was doing it. “Wow, wow, wow, wow, wow- t- to bear witness to this- to-”

“You will speak only when spoken to from here on out, Komaeda.” Izuru said without even looking up at him. Nagito swallowed hard. Behind his chair, he pulled ever so slightly at his restraints. Izuru rubbed the head of his cock up and down her lips, spreading her slick around. (Y/N)’s head finally dropped back down, looking away from Nagito, as she tried hard to not let any more noises escape her. Even if she knew Izuru could feel her desperate arousal in her heavy breathing, the way she wiggled and pressed into him, her fingers trembling in front of him, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of letting it consciously escape her mouth.

“Be honest, (L/N)...” Izuru’s words were so gentle and soft that she knew at once that whatever sharp insult he would throw at her would make up for it. “Tell Komaeda about every Remnant’s cock and fingers you’ve had in your pussy.” She gasped at once, her eyes widening, but as the focus fell heavy on what she would say next, denial escaped hers. She could feel Komaeda’s eyes on her, but she couldn’t even bring herself to look into his eyes. Guilt and shame that she had never felt about her previous dalliances before were searing in her stomach. “Not to mention the people you’ve taken on the outside.” All the while, his cock continued to move back and forth over her hole, never pressing any further. Teasing her, seeing how much she could take. “How many?” He asked rhetorically. “Two dozen? More?”

The enticing idea that it was Izuru’s cock didn’t escape her. It was one of the many details that had made her so wet so quickly. She couldn’t believe that someone so singularly powerful and superhuman was even giving her thought. She couldn’t believe that he had taken the time to notice how big of a slut she was. Nagito wasn’t alone in his obsession with Izuru, she was merely better at hiding it.

“What does it matter?” She spat. A cruel smirk that only Nagito could see crossed her face. “Angry they got to me before you d-” She was interrupted as Izuru’s swift hand came down to firmly squeeze the sides of her throat, literally choking her on her words. Her labored, raspy breathing echoed through the room at once. Next to them, Nagito whimpered, but continued to bite his tongue. Under furrowed brows, his eyes flicked quickly between Izuru’s unyielding face and his hand around her throat. Nonetheless, his smile remained on his face.

“You’re actually less insufferable when you’re just moaning.” Izuru noted. Her eyes rolled back into her head, but she couldn’t do much else. The press of those sure hands was incessant. “I might begin to see why you seem so eager to be reduced to that state so often.” He lowered his mouth by her ear, but his voice was just loud enough to let Nagito hear. “I wouldn’t recommend boring or annoying me. We wouldn’t want me to push you too far past your limits, would we?” His vice-like grip only tightened. Though she could still breathe a bit, every second he held her was a second she became closer and closer to melting like putty in his hands. Beside them, Nagito groaned, deep in his throat, at the idea of pushing her past her limits. Too many thoughts were beginning to swirl in his head, and not having anything or anyone touching him to quell it was only making it worse. Kamukura finally released her. She took a deep breath in and coughed a bit. Izuru’s focus went back to her now soaking pussy.

“Now, as I was saying, the only difference between Komaeda and all of your previous conquests is how… inexperienced he is. That, and his crumbling mental state, means he’s developed quite an obsession with you. Isn’t that right, Komaeda?”

“Yes!” Komaeda practically barked, words bursting out of him like a damn. “Yes, yes, I would devote my body to her so willingly- she’s extraordinary, the- the idea of touching her? The idea of her wanting me,” he rambled, drool finally beginning to spill out of his lips in his practically cross-eyed fervor. His chest heaved with his panting. “Oh, it fills me with such an incredible feeling!” He cried. “I selfishly desire her every day, every moment-”

“Enough.” Izuru sighed. Nagito’s lips couldn’t even shut this time. He moaned once more at the sight and his ideas, hips rocking quickly. “You like the attention. It shows. Look how easy it is for me to take her.” At once, his cock stopped teasing her, and finally sunk in. She yelped loudly at the sudden, intense feeling as Izuru quickly and completely filled her. Her walls squeezed around him, beckoning him to stay as his cock kissed the deepest parts of her. Between the look on her face and Izuru’s hands on his lover’s hips, Nagito couldn’t contain himself anymore.

“What an amazing opportunity this is! What a once-in-a-lifetime chance,” he panted. “To watch hope himself and my love together so intimately… ah, you must think I’m so perverted.” Despite his tone, Nagito’s face remained stuck in a blissed out expression, belaying his enjoyment at his self-degradation. “To be enjoying this so… I’m filthy...” He moaned. There was a pause, for just a moment. His tone changed slightly, but it so happened that Nagito was trapped in a room with the only two people in the world who would be able to tell. “Though… some might call it perverted for you to be doing this at all, Kamukura-sama.”

“Are you... insulting me, Komaeda?” Though he didn’t look back over at Nagito, Izuru punctuated his words with his first thrusts into (Y/N). Her noises were muffled by the mattress, and though the tension in the room eased a bit with it, it still hung heavily above her head between the two men.

“Lowly scum like me? Insult you? I would never dream of it, Kamukura-sama.” Nagito smiled cheerfully. Despite his words, the look that he gave Izuru was not with his usual reverence. Izuru’s own eyes narrowed, rolling the emphasis on his words over in his head. With no other words, Izuru’s hands gripped (Y/N)’s hips tighter until the whites of his knuckles were visible and he was sure there would be bruises the next morning.

"Let me make myself clear. This is only for my relief." He punctuated his words with a particularly rough, deep thrust. A broken keen spilled forth as he bottomed her out. "Both from the constant whining and drivel from the two of you... but yes, also sexually." He tangled his hand in her hair. "Unfortunately, my body is that of a teenager’s. It... is filled with hormones that make my body want to breed." He pulled a bit on her hair. She moaned gutturally, fighting with herself to arch into and out of the feeling. His eyes flicked up to meet Komaeda's. "Komaeda, you would not believe how... exquisite she feels... how warm and inviting she is..." Izuru’s lip twitched into the ghost of a smirk. Nagito didn't miss it, he didn’t miss anything. His eyes eagerly drank in every detail of the two of them entwined.

"St- stop talking about m- me like I'm n- not here." She managed, gasping around every other word. Izuru hummed, like he was considering her words, before shoving her head back down harshly into the mattress. His other hand came down in a ruthless slap to her ass, making her gasp, both for air and in surprise. Her hands clenched around nothing behind her back.

"I've got no need to differentiate how I talk to your face from behind your back." Though his face did not change, his tone held a bit of smugness. It was the only indication that what had left her a panting, moaning mess had any effect on him, besides the slight dampness to his brow. "And this is not so much about you as it is about Komaeda." Once more, his tone carried more of his annoyance than usual. "He is incessant. Obsessive. Possessive. And over all a hindrance to the operations of the Despair in his pathetic desire. I was hoping tonight would see a folly to that… but he’s as worked up over you as ever.”

For a second, (Y/N) and Nagito caught each other’s eyes. Arousal that made her clit throb washed through her as she took in the look in his eye. She had never known Nagito to be possessive, as Izuru had claimed. In fact, he often turned down situations that might lead to being in her presence, citing that she deserved better. However, the completely captivated and hungry look would have made anyone feel like they were his. Even without his words or touch, she felt marked as his. Her noises grew even louder. The pride in his eyes, like she was a beloved toy he was showing off, was almost too much.

Izuru didn’t miss this. All at once, he stopped moving, though he was still buried deep inside her. She whined wordlessly, causing him to deliver another hard slap to her ass. She whimpered quietly at it, clenching around his cock, but said nothing else.

“If you’d like to look at each other so badly, so be it.” His voice was even angrier now. If she didn’t know any better, she would say that it almost sounded like Izuru was growing frustrated with the two of them. She couldn’t tell why though. Izuru finally removed his tie and jacket. Most of his clothes remained on, as the motion was not taxing to him in the slightest, but he felt a bit hot under the collar now. He figured it had to do with her body heat. She was very warm.

He pulled out of her and wordlessly picked her up to turn her and face her towards Nagito. She silently thanked the fact that her hands were tied up for once, since it meant it would be hard to pick her head up and look at him constantly. But as Izuru sunk into her once more, one hand gripped the rope binding her hands and the other her shoulder. He leaned down to speak to her.

“Seems you’re lucky as well.” He murmured to her. Her eyes were wide in surprise. Even as Izuru spoke to her, both of their gazes remained fixated on Nagito. She could feel his hot breath on the shell of her ear. It made her shiver as he held her close. “I’m not so bored I feel the need to hold you by the hair.” He considered her for a moment. Her hands were pressed up against his firm stomach. He felt so solid and tall and imposing behind her. Though he was ruthless and unforgiving in his motions, she also knew he could have done much, much worse had he wanted to. The way he took control of her so quickly, so unquestionably so, was what she had been craving from someone every time she had been with someone else.

She finally realized what he was doing. He was showing both of them that she didn’t need to seek another person to give her what she wanted- didn’t need to seek Nagito to give her what she wanted- because he, and only he, could give it to her.

At once, Izuru picked up speed again. She cried out, her fingers scrabbling at the buttons of his shirt, pulling him close, pulling him closer. The sudden roughness made her cry out, the noises broken by each slam of his hips against hers. She could feel the smooth fabric of his pants, still on him, every time he buried himself in her. His hair began to fall down from behind her, brushing her shoulders and sides, tickling her with their silky softness. For a moment, the mischievous thought of pulling it crossed her mind, before she remembered once more that she was tied up at his mercy.

Her eyes focused on Nagito. He was moaning and mumbling to himself, looking lovestruck and animalistic with his wild eyes and hair. She couldn’t quite hear him over her own noises and Izuru’s breathing by her ear. He was leaning forward as much as he could, taking everything in raptly. She could see his erection pressing hard against his jeans, but he seemed to have completely forgotten about it, at least for a bit.

“Fuck!” She hissed, shutting her eyes tight just to get a bit of respite from the onslaught of pleasure she’d been feeling. “Fuck, fuck, fuck yes!”

“Make use of that mouth without foul language. Tell me, is this pleasurable to you?” Izuru asked, but the gentle, dangerous voice he was affecting was strained now. She squeezed her thighs together, in an unconscious attempt to receive friction on her clit, but she was rewarded instead with a quiet moan from Izuru.

“Y- Yes, Kamukura-sama!” You nodded weakly. In the greatest surprise of your night, you heard him laugh for just a second behind you. Quietly, more of a snicker than anything, but a laugh nonetheless. It was a low, smug noise.

“Mmm. Now admit to both of us, that even with me fucking you right now, you’d rather have Komaeda’s cock.” He demanded, making Nagito’s hips jerk up. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yes! It- It is!” You longed desperately to reach out to Nagito, just to feel him, just to touch him, but you were beginning to understand the true reason Izuru had tied both of your hands behind your back.

“Then say it.”

“I’d rather have your cock, Komae- ah- Komaeda-kun!” She practically shouted. Izuru began slamming into her harder when she’d gotten to saying Komaeda’s name. The irony didn’t escape her, that although it was Nagito’s name she was crying, it was Izuru that was making her feel that way. Nagito was always hard to read, but although she couldn’t tell exactly what he was thinking about, he was enamoured nonetheless.

“I think we’re well past the point of formalities, (Y/N).” Her first name sounded heavenly on his lips. “Go ahead and try again.”

“I want y- you, Nagito!”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes!” Nagito was panting and squirming almost more than she was. It seemed he’d found a rhythm grinding up against his own pants and thighs. His eyes rolled up. “A- again, please, please, please!” He begged, knowing that he was taking a risk by speaking once more. She opened her mouth, but all that fell from it was a squeal as Izuru spanked her with the hand previously holding the rope.

“I made myself clear, Nagito.” Izuru practically purred as he spanked her again and again. She jumped with every one, but she loved the sting regardless. Each one made her feel a little more used, a little more worthless as anything but a toy for the two men. Nagito didn’t like seeing her hurting, but it pleased something deeply sadistic in him, and he wasn’t the one doing it. The friction was barely enough, but he was getting close.

“I- Izuru! Please, please, please…” She pleaded, beginning to rock herself back against his cock sloppily, not in time with his thrusts.

“Hold still.” He practically growled, smacking her once more before digging his fingers back into her waist. She almost couldn’t take it anymore.

“Izuru, please, my- my clit- please, please!”

“Would you like me to touch you properly so you can finish?” Izuru practically purred. She nodded, noises like sobs escaping her mouth. Izuru laughed once more. The hand on her shoulders let go, sending her falling back into the mattress, before he was gathering her hair and pulling her head up once more. “Stupid little girl. You really thought I had no punishment in store for you?” He continued to slam into her, leaving her too mindless to even respond. He was all-encompassing- she could smell him, feel him around and in her, hear only his voice- but all she could see was Nagito, practically on the edge of his seat, getting off to her abuse. “You really think you’re going to cum? How pathetic. You two are suited for each other. If you’re going to cum you’re going to cum from my cock alone. But as much of a dumb slut as you are, I don’t really think you can do that, so you’ll just take it while I finish inside you. After all, my body still wants you bred.”

“W- Wait!” You choked out. Although the smallest part of you that still retained thought worried about what he was saying, the louder part had flooded with a fresh wave of pleasure and arousal at his words. He made no move to pause, but you didn’t have anything else to say. In front of you, you could tell Nagito was close as well, beginning to heave breaths that sounded like laughs. He was sweating, heated by the jacket he was still wearing, but it seemed like the least of his concerns. His noises were high, breathy, and pleading. More than anything he wanted to touch, to feel anything but the confines of his own jeans, but instead he watched helplessly as another man threatened to finish inside his beloved.

Izuru finally began making quiet grunts of his own right in her ear. They were deep and animalistic, something she never thought she would hear from Izuru. However, as he began nearing his edge, his noises only grew more similar in desperation to that of the other two. For just a moment, all three could be heard finding their own pleasure, before Nagito threw his head back with a sobbing noise and climaxed first, emptying into his own underwear. He wished desperately that he was the one in her, even alongside Izuru.

The other two now took their own turn watching Nagito as he finished, their eyes focused on his trembling, his white locks falling back, the way he rutted into the air in his desperation. Izuru’s orgasm took even him by surprise as he watched, and he seated himself in her fully with a loud groan as he filled her up even more. Her noises now sounded broken and pathetic, pleasure overriding her thought process as she let him empty within her without fuss. When he was sure the last of it was inside her, he finally pulled out and set her carefully down on the bed. She didn’t even complain about the loss, since she could still feel his seed dripping out of her twitching core.

She felt his hands on her wrists, which she had grown accustomed to, before realizing that he was undoing his knots. In a couple of tugs, his work came undone, and he laid the rope down next to her. She still couldn’t find the energy to sit up. He then moved around her and to Nagito, still recovering from his own orgasm. Nagito smiled weakly at him. Izuru took Nagito’s hair into his hands, but didn’t pull.

“Clean me up.” He ordered. Nagito seemed shocked, but didn’t waste time. He wrapped his lips around Izuru’s cock, still slick with his cum and her natural lubricant, and began to lick it clean. He moaned and his eyes fluttered shut like it was the most wonderful thing he had ever tasted. Izuru’s nose wrinkled a bit from overstimulation. Nagito’s pink lips moved back and forth hypnotically over Izuru, until finally, he tugged him off with a ‘pop’. He nodded curtly, and tucked himself back away in his pants. Nagito licked his lips, from which drool had begun to escape him again. Izuru moved behind the chair and undid Nagito’s knots before going to redress in his tie and jacket. “Clean up your mess.”

He turned slightly away from the two, listening as Nagito quickly got to the bed, he assumed to tend to her. He looked back when he finished, realizing she was moaning once more. Instead of attempting to help her sit up or speaking to her, Nagito was kneeling between her legs, lips around her pussy, eyes dutifully closed and hands behind his back. Izuru quickly leaned over and grabbed Nagito by the collar of his shirt, pulling him away from his task.

“I told you she’s not to cum.” Izuru growled. “You’ve already gone against my wishes by finishing yourself-”

“My sincerest apologies, Kamu- Izuru.” Nagito’s head was bowed respectfully. “I truly meant only to help put your seed back into her.” His eyes flicked up to meet Izuru’s. They were not filled with the subservience his posture suggested, but instead flickered with his own machinations. “Who better to be filled with your cum than her? The despair of breeding her during such a time means nothing compared to the hope your progeny would bring! If I’m blessed with the taste of the aftermath of your intimate act in the process... well, that’s just my luck.” He practically giggled. “I suppose I’d merely gotten used to not using my hands.” Despite his mad words, Izuru expected something of the sort from him. He sighed, and let go of his collar.

“I’m leaving now. I expect not to see either of you in my room when I return. Let this be the last time we must have this… discussion.” Izuru said, making his way to the door. “Next time,” He paused in the frame. “I won’t be so kind.” With one last nod to the two of them, he shut the door behind him.

*****

A/N: I'm not sorry, except that this is my first time writing something like this w/ three characters so I know it jumps around a lot but eh here you are! Love, love

#nagito komaeda #izuru kamukura #nagito x reader #izuru x reader #danganronpa #dr2 #restraint #bunnywrites

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harfanfare · 3 years

Text

Snow White and Juliet

trigger warning: suicide and just whatever happened in Romeo and Juliet & Snow White but darker.

People tend to define different things with the same word.

According to some, the lack of life is simply death. Others include there people who do nothing but work. They have no love, no passion. Those who remain unmoved by the suffering of others. Heartless ones.

For one poison vendor, "lifeless" meant being unable to move, drink, eat, but think. Think for eternity about nothing, what is described harsher than real death.

◆◆◆

„Test 103 was accomplished with success.”

There is confusion in the experiment hall. Researchers run from monitor to monitor, all comparing unexpected, but desired results.

No errors in documentation. No lapses in research. No difference in subsequent attempts.

The team of researchers was cheering in awe: the antidote for one of the biggest poisons in Twisted Wonderland, the "Poisoned Apple", has been found.

It's time to wake Neige Leblanche up.

◆◆◆

The Leblanche Tragedy happened almost two years ago when many haters got to harras Neige and his fiancée, [Name], who just announced their relationship. You were meeting already for quite a time, and knowing each other even longer. It wasn't easy to break any of you by hate.

But it wasn't also easy to live with people, who despised you with all their heart.

"It's alright," Neige whispered, his fingers combing the hair of his beloved. His voice was tranquil and soothing as always, almost by itself vanishing every bad experience. "It will be alright. I will make sure it will be."

"I know. And I am always thankful for that," you replied, cuddling him even more. Neige scent was another thing that hadn't changed over years; it was still the same aroma of wild, but soft flowers and heartwarming sunrays. Another wonderful feature. "I love you, Neige."

"I love you too."

That was the last discussion you had before the disaster happened.

And it started from no one else than Vil Schoenheit, who wasn't even aware how his actions will take a completely another turn than everyone expected.

◆◆◆

"Will it solve it? The sleeping potion?" you asked, turning the vial in your hands. It was no bigger than your little finger, and the potion there was taking only half of the space.

Not so long ago, around an hour, you found yourself invited by Vil to a tea party. You couldn't figure if he had been struck by your "help me" aura or was searching for a company, but you ended up in gardens, staring at the porcelain pot in which the tea was brewing.

It favoured the first meeting you two had: the tableware with the same, old-fashioned flowery pattern and the rich aroma of tea leaves of Vil's choice. Only a plate with sweets and fruits was something new—it was hard to convince Vil to bring anything sugary and even harder to make him try it. He finally ate a small (microscopical, in your opinion) piece of hand-made shortcake, but that was all you could do to let him appreciate the sweet energy shot.

"I cannot guarantee anything," Vil replied, watching you examine the bottle's content. "But it may work. With an emphasis on 'may'," he added, tearing his gaze away. Vil was your dear friend, and even if he didn't approve of your taste in men, especially your pick for a future husband, you were close enough to have him help you come up with a solution. "Use it as a last resort. I... am sure you will be able to find a better, safer way. For example, dumping your fiancé."

You giggled, but both of you knew his proposition was impossible. You could never leave Neige.

"Thank you, no thank you," you answered with a smile. The only thing that didn't let it last longer, were your problems. "Again, I am indebted to you. Thank you for being the best and the best prettiest in my life."

Vil puts the tea away, its taste suddenly feeling bitter and hard to swallow.

"...Well then. [Name], don't be reckless."

"I will try my best not to. I promise."

◆◆◆

You found a solution.

If you were the reason which made people attack Neige on social media and not only, why wouldn't you just disappear?

Not for eternity. Only for a month, maybe a few weeks, until the turmoil would silence. You and Neige could get married this way, inviting no one else than the closest of the closest people for the ceremony. Announcing your marriage and fake death wouldn't be that much of a shock as many could assume. There is a field called effective business, and everything can happen under that name.

I know how reckless is that, you were writing your thoughts on a paper. Once the dwarfs you invited to yourself saw the letter, they would give it to Neige. And you two would no longer have anyone who could undo anything. But think about it, Neige! If we may finally be together, isn't it a great chance?

You reassured him in the letter that you would wake up after few days. You also highlighted that he doesn't have to use your plan and let you two fight against the darker side of Wonderland together. He could just let you have week-long beauty sleep and with a fresh mind, try to solve your problems by less drastic measures: the press or announcements.

Maybe you were only overthinking and complicating the situation too much.

Your most loving fan, [Name]

You signed yourself and closed the envelope.

Your gaze returned to the sleeping potion. I am exaggerating, you thought. Your plans could fit into a script of a good film but in real life? What you were about to do felt... irrational and foolish.

Maybe you would change your mind if not the rush.

Once you heard footsteps on the floor and your friends, dwarfs, calling your name, you knew it is time to make a decision.

You quickly unscrewed the bottle and put it in your mouth. The sweet, sleepy fragrance with a hint of rosemary sent you to a sleep that devotedly resembled a death. The crash and sound of breaking glass as you fell to the ground immediately alerted everyone in the mansion. You couldn't hear the accelerated footsteps, screams, cries and commotion that was going on over you.

Before anyone could think to do something other than trying to wake you up and calling the hospital, the letter with your plan flew outside the window.

That night you broke two things: the promise you made to Vil and a heart of Neige.

◆◆◆

The death of [Name], the fiancée of the most adored man in the world.

Marriage cancelled? The mystery behind the death of [Name] [Surname].

A Dead bride.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

Neige scrolled through the media, each article made his heart ache. He ignored a great count of calls and didn't manage to appear at your funeral in time.

He was a broken toy, who just lost its batteries. He was a wrack of what he was before. Beautiful on the outside, blank on the inside.

Wearing a dark, a bit too oversized suit, he laid against one of the roadside trees. He closed his eyes, trying not to focus on any people, buildings or sounds except his breath. It was slow and steady until he remembered why he tries to calm down; then he would choke on his breath, tears falling from his eyes and trying to not lose balance.

"Would you like an apple?"

Neige wiped his tears in a sleeve and slowly turned around to see an old lady behind a stall. It was ruined and seemed unattended for years. The counter was doty, wood softened and tore off in big pieces by the wind and rain. Between beautifully decorated shops and cafes, this stall seemed to be a remnant that no one ever wanted to touch.

"Thank you, but I am fine." Neige replied in his polite tone, but the smile he sent her looked like nothing near 'fine'. "I am not allowed to take anything from strangers, but that is really kind of you!"

"Not just a bite?" the lady continued, putting an apple on the counter. It was brown, slightly green, and Neige would never guess it was an apple. Maybe more like a rotten apple, but no one would say that this apple was unfresh. Adversely, it contained freshness, but not of the common kind. "Wouldn't you like to join your lover?"

Neige held his breath.

"You mean... to die?"

"What I mean has no value. You will understand it the other way, even if I tried to explain," she replied. Her voice was squeaky as she repeated the question the same enigmatic way she did the first time. "So, would you like an apple?"

"No, thank you..." Neige bowed slightly. He hesitated, before trying his best to speak up. "I- I think [Name] would hate me dying. Only if she could understand this too..."

"Maybe she did" the lady replied. There was conviction in her voice, and Neige couldn't help but take her words seriously. "Or maybe not."

Neige hoped you did. How he loved you and how your death changed him from the happiest man in the world, the saddest one. He didn't know why you took your life and why he didn't notice anything before. He regretted spending not as much time with you as he wanted to.

But nothing could be done to change the past.

"I will get going," Neige said. He glanced towards the old lady, who smiled at him and showed some of her lacking teeth. "And... could you fetch me this apple, please?"

◆◆◆

Once Neige's gaze settled on your figure, the world was immediately forgotten.

He could hear his pulse pounding in his ears much more than silence who was your only companion.

No flowers, candles and golden ornaments of the church could divide Neige's attention, as his pace fastened with every step he made towards you. He didn't hesitate to lock his fingers with yours. He squeezed them, wishing his warmth could reach you.

"[Name]..." he whispered, getting his face closer to your sleeping face. He gently removed the lost strands of hair from your face, not believing that you won't wake up anymore. As much as he wanted to, no mage in Twisted Wonderland could bring the dead back to life. At least not in human's form. "I love you so much. T-too much, I think. How can I live without... my life?"

He gave you one last 'farewell' kiss on the lips, his body next to yours. "See you soon, [Name]."

His expression is the softest one he ever wore, as he reaches for an apple.

He bit it.

And then 'died'.

No sooner than the poison completely took control of his body, you woke up.

"Neige...?" you murmured, bringing your hand to his cheek. The anxiety mingled with your thoughts once you look around yourself. "We are... in a coffin?" You sat. It required effort, after not using muscles for a whole week. By the time, you took a break, you conjectured what happened. You jerked your head around and let your hands cup your lover's face. "Ple-please, please, Neige, don't do this to me. Please."

He didn't respond and the bitterness you tasted when you kissed his still warm lips confirmed that he didn't use Vil's potion. He was poisoned, and the amount left on his lips wasn't enough to take you to the same place as him. "Why didn't left anything for me? Neige..."

Your eye caught the glimmer. You went closer to notice the dagger, resting on the floor. It wasn't that visible as the weapon would be, and until you were a step from it, you could see how thin the blade was. As edge as sturdy.

The fear paralyzed you, as you came back to the coffin. But the remorse and the sight of your lover's dead body were stronger. Your whole body was shivering, a tremor affecting you more than you could ever imagine, making you go mad. Insane.

With one sharp move, you dug the blade into your chest, scared and closing your eyes.

"I am a fool."

By the time anyone arrives, it is too late to rescue you or stop the poison coursing through Neige's veins.

◆◆◆

In the morning sun rises, and everyone in Wonderland wakes up.

It is also the first time in two years since Neige fell asleep.

He can't feel anything. He can't sense the flaxen shirt the doctors changed him in. He can't get his mind through the haze, that has been floating around his thoughts just after he drank the poison. He can't answer the calls of the doctors and his friends, dwarfs, who are gathering around his bed.

But he can open his eyes.

And once he does, the silence is overcoming. When the fact finally sinks in everyone's heart, a great cheer flies across the room. Some of the gathered give Neige comforting touch or reassuringly squeeze his hand.

It takes him some time to realize what is happening, why is he in the hospital room, why people are crying around him and why you aren't the first one he sees once he wakes up. His habit of kicking you while sleeping was something you complained and teased him about. Even if he didn't wake you in his sleep, when he was getting up, his knee would always hit your arm or stomach, waking you up and having you buck him off the bed as revenge.

What he also can do, except for trying to stay awake and catching things his visitors chatter around him, is to try to remember. He didn't lose his memories! It just needs some effort to get them back from the darkest recesses of his mind! And then to regret it.

A whole wave of memories hits him like a tsunami, not leaving him space to breathe and see anything else than chaos, now replaced by the memories of you two.

The kisses. The promises. The vowes. The proposal. The struggles. The tenacity to get over your problems. The plan. The dead body of yours.

He doesn't have to turn around to know that you aren't in a hospital bed beside him. He remembered some of the talks of his friends when he was sleeping. Now everyone is waiting for him to return.

"Neige! You've finally woke up, huh!" Che'nya chippers, his voice cracking at last words. He is relieved about the news and only bad Neige's condition stops him from throwing himself at his arms and spreading the revelation to everyone... No, not even Neige himself can stop him from the latter.

Neige wasn't going to stop him. His mind still replayed the "finally woke up" part, as if the film stopped at the most painful scene, then broke and started to replay the scene once again. And again.

He turned his head on the side, letting the tears run down his cheeks.

He really can't feel anything.

"That," Neige manages to whisper under his breath. It is the first time he tries to say anything, and grievously struggles to put his words together. "is- is... so cruel." Everyone stared at him in silence, the same way they did when Neige and his dead lover were found. His cry brings tears to everyone's eyes, having many people bow under the weight of sorrow and put a hand over their lips to not let themself break again. "I didn't want to wake up..!"

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