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Yandere TDATT characters being in love with you would include...
ft. arvin, preston, lee, willard, lenora
a/n: pls don't kill me for the preston part, i mean some of you simp for joker who is much worse, btw y/n and Lenora are 18
༻♛༺
⤷ Arvin Eugene Russell
-Arvin would probably first met you at school when he was waiting for Lenora. He saw you standing up for Lenora to her bullies which immediately made him curious about you.
-So he would ask Lenora about you, he'd also told her to befriend you so you can help her in school, definitely not to know more about you.
-POSSESSIVE
-He would stalk you, sometimes he'd be in his car, driving behind your walking figure on the street, or he would sneak to your house at night watching you sleep or shower or do literally anything.
-He will protect you more than he does Lenora. If anyone even look at you the wrong way, they will end up with several broken bones. And if someone tries to touch you without your permission or make you slightly uncomfortable, the person will end up dead.
-After some time he will approach you. Starting a conversation about how glad he is that Lenora has you, that he cannot be around her to protect her all the time.
-He would never hurt you. Maybe if you find out that he killed someone for you, he would try to manipulate you, but he would never punch your or something similar.
-He would kidnap you soon, just to make sure that you are safe with him. He would also take a good care of you, will give you some freedom when he trusts you enough that you won't run away.
-He would want to spend every minute with you and he won't ever let you go, he loves you so much.
⤷ Preston Teagardin
-Preston would meet you in church after your grandma took you there. You didn't believe in god (you were atheist) and just lived normal life but that was to your grandma a sin. Your grandpa didn't really care because he was atheist as well so you often made jokes about your granny's faith.
-When Preston saw you he knew that he wants you. Your beaty was unbelievable. Which made him curious about you. He saw in your eyes that you don't believe in god and that's what attracted him.
-Your grandma told him how sinful you are and asked him if he could talk to you, which he gladly accepted.
-He would manipulate your grandma to think that he needs more time with you, alone. So she will make you go to the church more often, than he could be alone with you.
-Possessive and obsessive, will also stalk you a lot. Probably in his car at night looking into your window at you.
-He wouldn't even try to convince you to believe in god because he himself doesn't believe in him. He is also atheist he's just doing it for the money and power.
-You two will be alone in the church or after some time in his house. He would be over the moon because he can have you all to himself. BUT he wouldn't do anything without your verbal consent, because he would never hurt you in any way.
-Your relationship will be a secret from the start, just few glances and his death stares at anyone who's talking to you.
-But after some time he wouldn't be able to control himself anymore. He just has to have you, all the time. He can't get enough of you.
-He will kidnap you unless you go voluntarily. If yes than you two will run away and live somewhere in countryside where no one will bother you. You will have freedom around the house and on the yard, but he's the one who will go for grocery OR he will go with you, just to make sure no one will talk nor touch his precious angel.
⤷ Lee Bodecker
-Lee will stop you while he was working because you drove too fast. When he pull you over he was too stunned to speak. You were beautiful and he saw fire in your eyes.
-He shook his head and flirt with you, but enough not to make it weird nor make you uncomfortable. At the end of the day he didn't give you the speed ticket and let you go under one condition, which was to give him your name and phone number.
-After that he will make excuses to talk to you, so he would either stop you at the driveway or call you or knock on your door for a talk (because he will found out where you live by stalking you or looking into your file at the police station)
-He is also a stalker but not that much like Arvin, Preston or Willard. He will call it 'looking out for you just in case some men will make you uncomfortable' because he's a policeman, after all it's his job ;)
-He will offer you his help to stay close to you, doesn't matter if you need help with grocery or drop you somewhere in his police car.
-If anyone touches you, make you uncomfortable OR dare to flirt with you, he will arrest them for a long time and make sure they will leave you alone.
-He won't be rude to you or harsh but he will be dominant (like every other characters except Lenora) because he is policeman, you will have to have some respect for him.
-He will kidnap you sooner rather than later, just in case no man will hurt you, this city is cruel...and he can have you for himself.
⤷ Willard Russell
-Willard couldn't take his eyes off of you, when he saw you at that bar. He will talk to you as long as possible and he will flirt with you. After your shift he will take you home to make sure you are fine, definitely not to find out where you live ;)
-He will come to that bar more often to see you and talk to you, will also protect you like that, because no man would even try to talk to you when they saw that Willard is near you.
-At night he will sneak into your house and sat next to your bed, watching you sleep for few hours, you now again just in case.
-He is the most possessive of them all, also the biggest stalker. If anyone will try to talk to you, he will wait on them somewhere in private so no one could see what he will do to that man, because i'm telling you the man that talked to you won't survive or he will have a REALLY hard time.
-He will kidnap you after just two months, this world is too dangerous for someone so beautiful and precious like you.
-He also wouldn't hurt you but he will manipulate you if you won't listen to him. He is also the most dominant, he is veteran so he has some discipline and will 'teach' you how to listen to him.
-Won't let you out of the house but otherwise you have freedom and if you need anything from the shop, he will either go with you or buy anything you need. Most of the time you will stay home tho.
⤷ Lenora Laftery
-Lenora will meet you at school, you were her new classmate. She is the purest of them all but don't let her innocence fool you. She might be pure and innocent but she's not dumb, she can use it.
-From the start she will pray to god every night so he make her emotions for you vanish. But she will get use to them after some time.
-She will make herself a victim more than she already is to make you protect her from her bullies.
-She is more like your worshiper. Let's say you will became her new 'god' more like goddess, she will worship the ground you walk on, will pray every night for you and your love.
-She will also be a bit confused how much emotions she feels towards you, unhealthy emotions like lust, obsession, desire,... which she finds sinful and horrible but she cannot help herself.
-She won't stalk you... lot, but will kind of spend as much time with you as possible, which means sleepover or study dates (like she likes to call it, even tho they aren't)
-She also won't kidnap you made she will make herself look like a victim even more so you will stay by her side, if you talk to other guys she will act hurt and will say that the guys has been bullying her so you will eventually stop talking to him. She loves you and won't let you leave her side.
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tags: @clarks-letterman hope you like it!
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Imagine making the decision to stay alive by pretending to be into Johnny (because he's cocky and a narcissist which you clock the moment you hear him open his mouth) only it backfires because you actually start to fall for him in a twisted way
Johnny's Kitten
Summary: You'd been waiting so long to die you had time to formulate a plan to keep yourself alive.
Word count: 838
Warnings: Stockholm syndrome
You and your friends were caught over a week ago, and slowly, you've heard each of them being collected from the adjacent basement rooms, never to be heard from again. Now, it's down to you. As you sit on the floor with a chain collar around your neck, you have nothing else to do but wait to die.
One thing you managed to glean from hearing the man who calls himself Johnny come to collect your friends was just how cocky he is. He would brag about how easy it was to capture you and your friends who had been swimming at the nearby lake. When your best friend John tried to fight back, the man actually seemed to grow excited, killing John on the spot and laughing about it.
He's clearly a lunatic, and a massive narcissist.
And you know exactly what to do to survive.
Johnny only ever came to collect people for slaughter, so you knew once he opened your door that your time had come.
Instead of panicking, you smiled, your eyes roving over his muscular body, stopping on his dark brown eyes beneath a head of slicked-back black hair.
Johnny stopped in the doorway and looked at you curiously. “Whatcha smilin’ about?”
“Oh,” you said, acting like you didn't know you had been. “I guess I didn't expect you to be so handsome.”
He cocked his head, but a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “What?”
“Well, obviously you're tough and strong. I heard how you handled the others. But I didn't think you'd be so good looking,” you responded. You considered twirling your hair before stopping yourself. No need to be too ridiculous—he's eating this up.
“Always happy to surprise. But honestly,” he said, walking closer to you, “when I grabbed you from where you'd been laying out in the sun and you screamed… that's my favorite kind of surprise.”
He expected to intimidate you, and you knew it, so you laughed. “Yeah, that was pretty surprising. But if I can be honest too…” you leaned in as far as the chain would let you, “I always wanted to be kidnapped. Is that weird?”
“Now I ain't never heard that one before,” Johnny said as genuine confusion mixed with interest crossed his handsome features. “Why's that?”
“Isn't there something romantic about someone capturing you, taking care of you, becoming the only way you ever experience another human being? And it sure as hell beats going to work and paying taxes.”
Johnny snorted, then knelt in front of you, one arm resting on his bent knee, his bowie knife dangling idly between his fingers.
“You're a peculiar one.” He smiled wickedly. “And what do you think about the fact I'm gonna chop you up into pieces and eat you?”
You paused, then returned his smile. “I think that sounds romantic. I'd be a part of you, then.”
Johnny barked a laugh. “Damn, you're full of surprises.” He sets the tip of his bowie knife under your chin. “You really think I’m handsome?”
You wanted to nod, but decided against moving your head with a blade so close. “Yeah, I do.”
He leaned in and kissed you, then, moving the knife to your clavicle. And you returned his kiss, with fervor. So much fervor that he used his free hand to grip the back of your hair, doing as close to devouring you as possible without literally doing so.
And a small part of you ignited. You realized you weren't just pretending to survive.
Some part of you actually, truly did like him. This. The feeling of his tongue exploring your mouth. The teeth used to chew up your friends tugged at your lower lip, and you moaned.
Damn it, you really liked this. You didn't even notice when he put the knife back in its sheath.
“You weren't kidding, sugar,” he said with a breathless laugh. When he pulled back, you chased his lips to the end of your chain, and a flash of what you thought might be affection glinted in his eyes.
“You sure look cute tugging on your lead like a little starved kitten,” he said, using his free hand to stroke your hair. “I think I might have a use for you still.”
“Yeah?” You asked, though you've already realized you're ready to accept whatever that use is.
“Come on, kitten. Be quiet so the others don’t hear.” He unlocked your chain and wrapped it around his fist. You followed him on your hands and knees obediently out of the room, not making a peep. He led you out of the basement through a cellar door, and the sun-baked dirt was so hot it singed, but you kept crawling until he took you to the wooden door of an old shack with a buffalo skull over it.
“Welcome home, kitten,” he said as he opened the door to your new cell—one, you realized, you wanted all along.
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Hey, Mae it’s Autumn :), how you been?
Hi!!!!! It's so good to hear from you. Things have been a bit up and down but I'm doing good thanks! How about you?
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writing reader inserts is so funny because it's like. yeah you would NOT say that but now you do and you're gonna enjoy it. it's inevitably pouring a part of you into this fic. it's describing your dissociative daydreams in overly detail to everyone searching specifically for food to feed their dissociative daydreams. it's coming up with a hundred different scenarios on how to get railed by your favorite 2D man and yeah his dick is always big and he wants you so badly. it's playing barbie with Y/N who is like an universal OC at this point. it's going on silly little adventures in my mind and taking you all with me. reader inserts i love you so much.
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Did you really think hiding in his shack was going to work?
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hii idk if you’re comfortable but could i request just any headcanons of stockholm syndrome johnny slaughter x fem!reader? would he ever come around to being “gentle” after corrupting the reader of a relationship? would he ever let the reader see her family? just give me any details you brainstorm 🫣
this became more of a drabble but it encapsulates everything i'd except from johnny with a captive with stockholm syndrome. he'll be overthinking, he'll be insecure, and he'll take it out on you. then act all boyfriend material so you don't question it. he's such a joy to be around lmaooo
tags: can be read as gn. stockholm syndrome, knife as threat, near death experience, abusive relationship
Johnny’s tactics proved to be worthwhile the more you eased yourself into the role of a captive, viewing your surroundings as a home since you had no escape to go to your own. It surprises him how quickly you succumbed to it, offering to take up chores. He was suspicious of you at first until he let you out in the junkyard to gather scraps. The cattle grid off, the gate open, you had every chance of escape. Your footing stayed planted on the soil, bare feet in the dry dirt, humming a tune as the sun beat down on you. You acted as if you were at home, taking your time, comfortable in your surroundings. You were the first of its kind in Johnny’s eyes.
Sometimes he caught you gazing at the pressure gate. Looking beyond the road to the horizon, deep in thought. Johnny would keep his eye on you, his hands busy with the car he was fixing up. Then you would sigh and look away, getting back to work. Johnny needed answers, he had to know what you were thinking. A dream, an opportunity? Are you kidding him?
“You ever thought about running away?” He would ask. You never gave a direct answer, your words were always like “I like it here”, “I have everything I need”
It did not calm his nerves. You can’t leave, you can’t defeat him. You cannot be convinced of anything except your devotion to him, otherwise all his work has gone to waste. He had to test you again, break any thought that crossed your mind.
He ambushed you in the quiet of the night, snuffling your screams with his hand, and pressing his knife to your neck. You only screamed once, resting when you saw Johnny, calm under his knife as you gazed into his eyes.
“If you ever think about leaving,” Johnny warned, “Goddammit- I’ll kill you. I’ll fucking kill you.” His words were insecure, his vowels broken. Masking his frustration with fury.
He shifted his hand to grip your hair, giving you a chance to speak. Your docile face gazing up at him, forcing a smile to appeal to him.
“I love you, Johnny… I do, I really do,” your calm words failed as he tensed his shoulders, pressing the knife closer to you. “But… I have a family. They’ll be worried sick about me. At least let me write to them, I’ll tell them that I found you, and I’m happy here. Please…” You weren’t necessarily lying, but there was still an inkling of what life was like before. Your whole life was ahead of you, letting you navigate the paths of life. You went down this one, longing for the possibilities there were before. You refused to admit defeat, mustering a fond smile.
It seemed like Johnny was thinking about it, but he was only steadying his knife, debating on slitting your throat. The spill of your blood flashed before his eyes before he made the split decision to replace the knife with his hand, closing your airflow.
“You have a family,” Johnny spat, “We’re your goddamn family. Got it?”
You nodded to the best of your ability, gripping his wrists, calling surrender. He lets go, scoffing at your pathetic coughs for air.
“You’re smart, so I suggest you start thinking smart thoughts,” Johnny’s remark was worse than his knife. You turned on your side, burying your face into the pillow to get back to sleep. Your eyes are wide open, tense under Johnny’s arms wrapped around you. He kisses your temple, soothing your head, as if nothing happened.
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I have a select handful of tumblr mutuals that I'm always like chill-ly trying to impress. if I post something like "I bet she'll love this post" and she don't interact with it I'll be like "I'm not good enough. gotta get better"
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Thanks for writing my father rating ask! So detailed! The farmer rating actually surprised me a bit. I thought he’d be meh at best. Now I just can help but swoon on how cute he’d be teaching his sons how to deal with farm jobs and playing princess tea party dress up with daughters ☺️ Though I also hope he’d take the collar off us by then when the babies become children. That’s gonna be hard and uncomfortable to explain to them. Can’t a girlie just get a cute ring?
The deranged part of me thinks I can fix the mad king’s parental issues. I probably can’t though. Honestly I’d just be plotting his death cause I’m not going to take him abusing our children!
Killer yea it’s what I expected
I believe in you and your latent ability to write smut! I will always stand by and wait patiently cause I know that whatever you put out eventually will be a masterpiece! ❤️
Hi! Thank you for sending it through. It was very fun to answer. Yeah, I was actually kinda shocked when I was thinking about it that he would be the good father. I mean all my ocs are kinda bad fathers in their own ways, but he truly cares about his children and loves and supports them in ways the other's just don't know how. Yes! Collar is off. I feel like I may have contradicted a post of mine from forever ago, but in this little universe its off. Thank you! That's very sweet.
xx
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Honestly I wouldn’t mind if ya did a story that was just breeding kink baby fever pregnancy centered focused 🙈 No thoughts head empty just 🌽
But I do have to ask out of your ocs who’d actually make a great father vs shitty father vs meh father? And what are some of ya ocs parental habits for raising the babies?
Hi!! Honestly I wish I was sooooo much better at smut cause that's all I would write. I'm trying to get back into writing smut but I'm really not very good at it, but I'm practising! Also i promised a fic tonight but I'm tired and my writing is shit so I'll have a red hot crack go tomorrow after work.
Ok so I'll just do out of my yandere ocs, cause they are the ones everyone is more familiar with. TW: talks about domestic abuse
Great Father goes to the Farmer for sure. Look he's got traditional (aka outdated views) but that doesn't mean he would ever disown his children. He had a really horrible childhood and he always promised himself he would do a better job as a parent then his own ever did. He is very hands on, giving his children life skills and most importantly the belief that they can overcome what life throws at them. The farmer knows how hard life is, so he tries to instil good work ethic and most of all a be good to others way of thinking. Being a helping hand is important to him.
He may not like people that much, but being someone others can rely on made him feel as though he is wanted and worthwhile when he was always told by his parent's he was not. He would unfortunately believe in boy's things and girl's things. But that doesn't mean if a son of his wants to help mama sew or a girl of his wants to help him fix the truck he's going to go crazy. No, of course not, he believes that ALL life skills, whether others believe them to be men or women jobs, need to be taught to children. So he doesn't care about division of labour based on gender.
What makes him a bit weary is if his son wants to wear florals or pinks, or if his daughter ONLY wears masculine clothes, especially if they go into town. He's just not comfortable about it. However, over time I think he just wouldn't care anymore and would only fuss if they are wearing improper clothes to work on the farm with. Likewise he wouldn't disown his children if they came out as queer, he would most likely make really cringy jokes and ask embarrassing questions and then say something like "Oh, so I can't ask my child a genuine question? Is that not politically correct now?", but like sir, please the question was embarrassing.
But yeah, once he kinda understood it he would come to terms with it and actually would be funny. Like if someone in town asks him if he's proud of his kid for coming out hell say (absolutely seriously) "why the fuck should I be proud of them coming out of the house, why do kids these days need praise for every little thing they do!". like he wouldn't understand what the phase coming out even means. Anyway on to the next!
Meh Father goes to the Mad King. The man is all bark no bite. He pretty much only wants children as heirs and also to have levrage over the reader. He's not horrible by any means, he spoils his children when they deserve it, but he also makes them understand that nothing good in life is freely given and you have to take it. But unfortunately he also causes rivalries between his children. They are desperate for any attention/praise from him that they will try to out compete one another to gain it. Often resulting in arguments and injuries.
Reader (whether they wanted children or not) has to act overly motherly and affectionate to their children to counteract his actions. There is no favouritism or stern reminders of their places as heirs, just warm, welcoming love. Also his children aren't idiots, they can all tell that their parent's did not marry for love. At least on their mother's side.
They are torn between desperately wanting their father, the king, to show them true love not just cold approval and hating him for the emotional abuse he has put their mother through. It's actually kinda sad, because he was always desperate for the attention and love of his father and now he's caused the same thing between his own children.
There is moments of affection and love but the more he see's himself or god forbid his brother in his children, he begins to be very cold and distant. The man kinda forgot that a kid is 50/50 not just 100% their mother's. That's why his youngest is his favourite, although he would never tell anyone ever. His youngest is pretty much reader cloned, looks, personality, and everything. When he looks at them he is harshly reminded what he took away from reader the day he became king.
Bad Father goes to the Killer. This man would have absolutely no fucking clue what the fuck to do. And he would not care to try. Reader (who is usually gn but for the sake of this is afab) is heartbroken when they realise they are pregnant, and Killer has no idea why they won't stop crying. And why do they keep being sick all the time. A primal part of him likes the idea of caring and providing for his darling and their children, in fact he loves it.
When he figured out reader was pregnant, he started stocking up in furs, wood, meat and cloth. He made a crib from what he remembered his little brother's to be (omg lore drop). He likes to provide, but damn does he actually hate having a child. He leaves ALL baby stuff to reader, he pretty much refuses to look after or even pick up the baby. He gives reader all the resources they need and the Killer calls it a good job done. The poor kid(s) grow up very isolated and confused. Their mama loves them with everything they have but their pa won't even acknowledge them.
Resentment grows as they do. They of course don't really understand why they are here and why their mother/parent is with killer, because it's all they have ever known. They've known nothing other than this. I can see this going either two ways. One day the oldest snaps, they are sick and tired of listening to the screams of the their father's victims. Their mother/parent tries so hard to keep them from barging out of their small shack.
The eldest faces their father, who has grown grey over the years. However, he is still a scary and strong man, and the eldest falters slightly, it's enough for the Killer to smack their eldest to the ground telling them to go back inside. Reader sees this and just loses it. They have spent a good chunk of their life under Killer's thumb. They have seen so much death and violence they have become almost immune. But to see their child being struck by the man who killed all her friends all those years ago just causes absolute rage.
Reader picks up the old shotgun that they found hidden in the attic, they were always too scared to use it, especially when the kid(s) came. But now its time. Killer doesn't stand a chance.
OR the other way is that once the kid(s) reach maturity they follow in their father's footsteps unfortunately for reader and finally get their father's approval. I like the first idea better.
Hope you liked it! I should have my home invader story out tomorrow!
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Taking a break from writing tonight (been working last three days) but will have my next fic out tomorrow!
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The Fisherman Pt. 1
Continues from the prologue that you can find on my masterlist. I actually really struggled with this one, I have so many ideas of where to take it, that I couldn't really choose one consistent way of bridging it to where I want it.
The fog curled around the bay, seeping into the cracks and crevices of the island. You imagined the fog being devoured by the land itself, nourishing the barren, desolate rock you were forced to call home. The sky was near black, the sun suffocated by dark clouds. Rain pelted down, leaving harsh lines along the window you looked out from. You shivered in slight fear as the small house shook from a powerful burst of wind. The storm was frightening in its power, the lighthouse overlooking the bay failing to make a difference.
You felt nothing but disappointment.
Disappointed the fisherman was not amongst the waves. You had hoped his boat would have been dashed across the jagged rocks lining the cliffs. Instead, he made his presence known by the sound of his heavy footfalls up the old wooden stairs. He pauses for a brief moment at the last step, his weight shifting slightly. An audible creak lifting into the air. Your eyes were still trained solely on the waves crashing against the rocks. Even above the rain and wind, you could still hear the constant sound of the bay in all its chaos. You shifted your gaze from the bay to the fisherman's reflection. His sad, lonely eyes staring back at you. Almost as if he was willing you to turn around.
His mouth opens.
Then shuts.
He looks down back the stairs, weighing his options. He shifts his weight onto his back foot, the decision of leaving you alone silently on his mind.
You begin to left out a breath you'd been holding.
His weight shifts again, the creaking of the wood signalling your fate.
He begins to walk to you. You suck back in a breath, straighten your back and close your eyes.
He stops mere inches away from you. You can smell the salt on his skin and feel the heat he provides. In this cold, decaying house he felt like hell fire.
Your eyes remained shut, your ears listening to his shallow, frantic breaths, almost in time with the waves breaking on the rocks.
You open your eyes slowly, willing him to be gone. He stood silently behind you, eyes fixated on yours in the reflection.
"Will you come for supper?" he croaks, struggling to articulate each word. You struggle to remember a time you've heard his voice. Even before he took you kicking and screaming from your small village by the sea, you could hardly say you've ever heard anything from his mouth. Not even a whisper.
You turn to face him, eyes dull and lifeless. You could feel a dull ache in your belly, you imagined it was hunger. Though in the week you have been trapped within these walls, you failed to feel anything but despair. Not even the pains of hunger or the dryness of your throat for the want of water could compare to the growing emptiness within you.
You stare into his eyes. They unnerve you. So bright and cold. You remarked to yourself that they seem to be mimicking humanity rather than being of it. Looking into his eyes filled you with dread. You turned your attention back to the window, away from his soulless eyes.
"No thank you" you answer, keeping your voice level. His shoulders sag at the reply, you had been sitting at this window in the attic for hours now. Before that, the window in the kitchen. Before that, your eyes were focused on the ceilings rafters in your bedroom, counting each strand of the spiders webs swaying like flags in the breeze that floated into the house.
He sighs, disappointment flows across his face, before a dull spark of emotion makes its home on his face. You think for a second it is guilt or maybe just the way the rain on the window muddles his reflection.
You watch as his hand ruffles into his pocket, the same time another gust of wind pushes against the house. You don't fear it this time round.
His hand removes itself from the abyss it found itself in. You can't see what is inside his hand, only catching a bright glimmer of gold. It blinds you for a moment, until you blink, and the glimmer turns to nothing. He ponders for a moment, a finger plays around the edges of the small object in your hand.
"I have this for you" his voice is smoother this time, still harsh, but mellowed in its little usage. His face still looking upon the object. Eyes becoming focused purely on the motions he conducts with his finger.
He blinks slowly and lifts his gaze towards you.
You turn to face him, eyes slowly falling upon his open palm. He reaches it towards you in a silent offering. He needs not to say a word, the action screams loudly at you instead.
'Please, Please, Please, Please, Please'
Asking for what you don't know. You've tried to ponder his motives, his desires, but he never made them known.
A small golden ring laid upon his palm, a dark lilac gem sat amongst vines of gold, the gem catches the light with ease, another bright glimmer catches your gaze.
There is something about it, the craftmanship, the way light seemed to bend itself away from it, the cold that radiated from it. Without thought your hand inches towards it, hesitating just as you begin to grasp the metal.
You doubt his intentions, his motive behind gifting you this strange yet beautiful artifact. He stole you from your home, ripped you from your family, marooned you amongst a decaying house upon a desolate island. But as you gazed into the gem, the specks of gold, silver and lilac dancing in the light, the worries amongst your mind floated away, devoured like fog into the cracks of the island.
Before you truly comprehended what was occurring, the ring was slipped onto your left ring finger. You weren't even sure if it was you who did it.
Now nestled on your hand, it was warm, it felt like it had been there for years. But of course it does, because it had been there for years. Hadden it? The feeling of emptiness and despair lifted from you in a second, collected with your worries and floated away to be consumed. In fact, what exactly were you upset about? You know you had felt something, or maybe the absence of something. But it was gone, as if you were waking from a strange and unsettling dream. You admired the ring upon your finger, just as you lifted your gaze to admire your husband. He was so good to you, providing for you, protecting you. Because that is what husbands do, right?
The rain continued, even falling harder, the clouds finally succeeded in diminishing the last of the suns light, and darkness descended upon the bay. Yet, it was all perfect. The chaos and the violence of nature was so so so perfect. Everything was. Because of cause it was. You had your husband, your love, right in front of you. Everything would forever be perfect with him.
A bright smile broke across your face. You wondered for a brief second why it felt so unnatural. Oh well, these feelings come and go.
Your husband's face shone with delight at your display of emotion. A dry, flustered laugh began to emerge from his mouth.
"Do you love me?" he urged, hands rough from work gripping onto yours, thumb playing with your wedding band.
"Of course I do...um...husband!" you giggled back, stopping only to realise you have forgotten his name. How could you forget your husband's name? How embarrassing! Oh well, these things happen.
He allowed himself to finally laugh, a desperate, ugly display of pure joy. You laughed along side him, not understanding why he felt the need to display such a sight.
A feeling began creeping over you as he continued, you couldn't quite place it. It wasn't very nice though, it was harsh and almost wet in feeling, like your heart was being drowned under a roaring current. Your laughs began to mutate, from those of joy to laughs of fear, what was this growing inside you? It felt slimy and ugly, pushing out from within, like a creature desperate to be released. Tears began to flood your eyes. The pain of this feeling encompassed your body. Your husband still laughed, why couldn't he see your tears? Why didn't he feel this grip of dread that overwhelmed you?
Sobs began to rack your frame, breaths came out if huffs and gasps for breath, you didn't understand anything. Who was this man? Surely if you were married you would know him by name? Surely you would feel safe with him, but instead fear and sorrow encompassed the air you shared between you.
You looked down to your joined hands and a gleam of purple stopped your questions. The gleam grows, pulsating in beat with your heart, your cries softened, the feeling of dread and fear slowly slithered away, back down deep deep deep deep inside you.
You looked up. Oh! Your husband was looking at you, with...fear?
"Is everything okay husband?" you ask. Head tilting, tears drying upon your face. Had you been crying? Surely not.
"Yes, yes of course my love. Everything is absolutely perfect” he rushes, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth.
You smile back.
Everything is perfect.
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Late One Stormy Night Pt. 2
This is a continuation, including a large time jump, of my original farmer storyline, the canon events if you will. I would have loved to do this for flower seller and mousy au, however I feel it fits much better for the original farmer. I may do one for the other aus as well. Also this is just a short little snippet into where this reader ends up, I have spoken in depth about their life together, but this is years down the track, where pumpkin has finally given in.
Triggers: Pregnancy! FemReader, Stockholm syndrome ofc, reader has pretty much been brainwashed into being a perfect house wife, if you didn't know the context or if I didn't remind you within the text, it would seem like a nice love story. feminism please do not judge me
A kick against your belly halted your movements. A small smile etches across your face. You drop the washing you had just grab back into the basket that lay on the lush green ground beneath you. A gentle spring breeze floated past, bringing the scent of pine and grain past. The babe in your belly has only just started to move within you. You had yet to fully comprehend that life, a new being, was growing within you. Another kick, against both your belly and hand this time, brought a giggle to your face. The sound of tyres on dirt brought your attention to your husband pulling up in front of the house. Your giggle faded. You didn't like remembering the time before you were allowed in the house, the time you spent huddle within a stable in the barn. When you fought against his every action and offer of affection. Now, after finally putting your pride aside, you were happy. It took years, but you finally content by his side. It was so long ago know that you couldn't even really remember how you came across him. All your remember is rain, and that is all you could begin to remember before the memories fell apart like ash.
You begin to make your way to your husband, pushing aside the laundry drying along the washing line. The sun beamed down with kindness, bringing a subtle warmth across your skin.
You stopped a few metres away from him, watching as he jumped out of his pick up truck, a wide smile on his face at the sight of you.
"Well good afternoon to you pumpkin, how you feeling? That boy of mine not giving you trouble?" he greeted, turning to the tray of the truck, grabbing from it a large wooden log. He huffs as the weight of the log pushes against his shoulder.
"I'm feeling fine" you laugh, it was a game of yours to count how many times in one day he asked how you were feeling. This was his 10th ask of the day.
"We don't if its a boy yet. Could be a girl" you offer with a smirk. He was convinced it was a boy.
"Nope" he states as he walks towards the work shed, you follow behind him, begging for attention. Ever since the barn, you've been so desperate for affection.
"In the last five generations of my family, there hasn't been one girl born" he drops the log down in the dirt next to his wood working station. You pout, wondering how that is even possible and also wondering why he had a massive log to begin with.
"what's the log for?" you ask.
He turns back to you with a lazy smile, wiping sweat from his brow and he takes his hat off.
"A crib" he beams. Delight dancing in his eyes.
"Oh, that makes sense" you mutter. Your eyes begin to slowly blink in exhaustion. Carrying a baby isn't easy.
" Come on pumpkin, lets get you to bed" he drawls, grasping your hand with a gentle touch. So very different from how he used to touch you when you first arrived.
You nod lazily, still surprised with how quickly sleep comes to you these days.
"That boy of ours sure likes to cause trouble huh? He's gonna just be like his daddy, although I'm hoping he's gonna look like you sweetheart." he muses, a hand coming down to trace your belly as you walk.
The farmer smiles once more. Everything he ever wanted he has. A beautiful wife, the perfect family and more hopefuly to come after this one. He chides himself for the years spent alone, angry at the world and himself. That whole time he could have had this, a place within a family. But he wouldn't change anything, not the timing or the place. You came to him at the perfect time, you were everything he ever could have wanted and more.
He thanks himself for having the courage to take what he saw as his.
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A Gift From the Sea Pt.1 - Fisherman/Selkie AU
AHHHH I am so excited for this one, like I am obsessed. Anyway, reader is female and there isn't really any triggers. Except fisherman is obsessive and hides the readers seal coat from them. The first part of this is pretty much a love letter to women and female friendships, until I drag a stupid man into it. I hope you guys like!
He hears them again. Singing, laughing, whispering. Huddled amongst the rocks and gentle waves like flowers in a field. He watches with bated breath as one by one they shed their seal coats, emerging from the flesh of an animal to that of beautiful women. They call each other sisters and yet they all look perfectly unique from one another. There's one with soft golden locks, cut short along her ears, with freckles dotting along her shoulders . Another with dark coils that frame her round face, cheeks dimpling as she laughs. Despite the differences in features, all of the women, twenty at least, interact with love to one another.
One of them is braiding an older ones long hair. The older ones hands too brittle and frail to weave the intricate knots that the younger one does. He listens as they sing songs of the deep sea. The songs of their foremothers, lullabies of the ocean. A few others play a game of hide and seek amongst the rocks, the seeker beginning to crack one eye open in desperation to find her sisters. The women giggle as she calls 'Seal outta water!' catching a tanned skinned woman in the act of hiding upon one of the rocks. He catches a glimpse of where most have hidden their seal coats, gently folded amongst the brush. Each coat was completely unique to the others, often mimicking the owners. The coat of the woman with the golden locks, had specks of light gold amongst dotted pigments of brown. The woman with the round cheeks, had a coat of dark, supple brown, merged with black and grey.
He had yet to spot you or your coat.
One he first spotted the selkies he thought he was going mad. They were nothing more than folk tales, stories of beautiful women in the coats of animals. But he saw them, and he saw you, emerging from the sea one deary winter morning, a family of seals changing before his eyes. You were the first one he saw. You in all your naked beauty.
Supple flesh and rounded curves, hips perfect for bearing children. Eyes sparkling with mirth. A wife in the making.
But you were not here today. He scanned through the seal folk, yet he still couldn't see you. He bit his lip, today was meant to be the time he struck stealing your coat and making you his wife.
A subtle ripple in the calm waters, away from the large gathering of selkies, announced your arrival. You emerged from the water, coat folded in hand, with a bright smile on your face.
"Sisters!" You grinned, beginning to prance through the water to them.
"Sister!" they cried back. Waving and laughing with glee at your arrival. You hugged and kissed others on the cheek, before looking towards where the coats were hidden.
The fisherman held his breath and hid deeper under the brush, thistles pricked at the skin of his cheek, but he stayed silent and still.
You placed your coat amongst the others. Like those of your sisters, it perfectly resembled your features. He could tell which of the coats was yours in a heart beat.
As you began to re-join your folk, he made his move. Once your soft coat was in his hands, he nearly cried with joy. It had been months now since he first saw you, since he promised himself to make you his wife. And all his dreams were soon to come true. He quickly moved back to his hiding place, now only having to wait till the right time to make his presence known.
Hours passed, the sun slowly beginning to set, the time spent by the fisherman dreaming of the life that you will live together, caressing your coat as if it was you. He listened and watched and the seal folk began grabbing their coats and returning to the sea. As the last to arrive you were also one of the last to leave. You waved to your last sister as she drove amongst the waves, giving her a promise to follow soon behind. Making your way towards where you left your coat, you breathed in the coastal air, feeling the dying sunlight on your skin. The world above was filled with such delights, but nothing compared to your ocean home. You bent down to grab your coat, only to find it missing.
The fisherman, only metres away listened as you began to panic, ripping apart the brush to find even a glimpse of your coat.
Tears filled your eyes, pouring over onto your cheeks. Without your coat you were nothing, without your coat you could never return home. You gave a shriek of pain. It was gone, truly gone. You began screaming for your sisters to return, to help you find it, but they too were gone.
He watched as the hour slowly passed, the denial, anger and misery of it all racing across your face. A part of him was pained by his actions, he caused the very agony that wracked your body. But he steeled himself. He would not let go of his promised wife so quickly.
He waited until exhausted plagued you, until you fell to your knees. Sobs passed by your lips pathetically, tears almost a constant on your face.
He packs your coat into his inner jacket, his large fishing jacket covering both it and him in warmth, and makes his way towards you.
"Are you alright lass?" he asks, feigning ignorance at the fate that has befallen you.
You look up in fright. A tall, lanky man stood in front of you. He had a head of messy curls and a sullen, shrunken face. The face of a man with worries aplenty.
You took a moment to process his ask, you were definitely not alright. You had been stripped away from your home and family. And what have become of your coat? Did it fly away, caught up in a wicked wind. Or had one of your sisters stolen it, in jest or as revenge for a petty action of yours long passed. Or, maybe, if the tales of your sisters and mother were true, had a man taken it? You believed the stories of men stealing away coats to have selkie wives as nothing more than an old seal's tale. Just a cautionary tale to young seals to keep good care of their coats when they shifted. There hadn't been a confirmed captive selkie in hundreds of years, the practice of taking a selkie wife long out of fashion due to humans disbelief selkies even existed at all.
You gazed at him with soft teary eyes. He seemed kind enough, gentle too. There was no use crying amongst the sand. Night would come soon, and you were not made to survive as a human.
You slowly nodded, too shy to speak to a male human.
His hand, worn with work, came before you and you slowly placed one of yours in it.
Wordlessly he helped you from your knees, just as the last light of the sun began to wave its goodbye beyond the horizon.
"Here take this" he mutters, you don't have a chance to ask him what it is your taking, as a large, warm fishing coat is laid on your shoulders. It smells and salt and fish. You close your eyes in bittersweet delight, it smells like your own coat.
The fisherman shoves a hand into his remaining jacket pocket, toying with the soft fur of your coat. The old selkie wife tales ended in despair for the human husband because the wife knew he had her coat. What if he didn't tell you, what if you never found out. There would be no reason to search anywhere for anything, if you were unaware how close it was. His attention was turned to you as you let our a meek thank you, borrowing into the large coat. He gave a hum of welcome and a slight nod, before leading you up the path to his lonely house.
But, it wouldn't be so lonely for so long, not with his soon to be selkie wife in tow.
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Idk why I luv the mad king so much. Like I just wanna kiss, console, and give him lots of affection. And babies too. Lots of babies. I think I just luv men who will worship me, take care of me, and father my babies. My toxic trait is “fixing” these men by enabling their psycho luv for me
So plz just imagine me screaming, crying, and banging my cell bars, waiting for my mad king hubby to return to me in part 3 with a baby on the way too
The thing about him, is that if you give him affection or give him love he will kill for you (which he already has), he will show you such devotion that you would like you were a goddess. I think it was the movie the labryrinth that had the line ‘fear me, love me, obey me and I will be your slave’. Which sums him up to a tea. Yes!!! He likes pretend he just wants to get you pregnant for an heir but three sons and two daughters later he is STILL trying to get you pregnant. He just loves being a father, and loves seeing you as a mother. Hes coming! I promise, I had a storyline lined up but i looking over it now I don’t really like it, so I’ve decided to change it up a bit. Im thinking neighbouring ruler comes for a diplomatic vist and plays a bit too much attention to reader (who may or may not be pregnant).
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Dark Is The Night
Summary: A late night encounter with a patroling soldier changes the trajectory of his life - and, unfortunately, yours too.
tw: female reader, obsessive behavior, non - consensual touching, threats, thoughts of non - con, mention of war, patronizing behavior, slight misogyny, hinted kidnapping
All he could think about was you.
It was a damp linden night, one of the very few old fashioned ones - as if time itself had stopped. The old colonel was laughing in short sharp breathes, skin spotting in red along with his sweaty neck, tearing into a letter he had received this very morning. The young soldiers were all over the tavern - some crying, some cheering over a beer and calling each glass their last, losing themselves in the rich foam that covered their fresh military mustaches. Christoph was alone, though.
He had no wife to write back to - no home to call his own, no friends or family to celebrate his final battle with. He also wasn't a rookie - so he couldn't drink himself blind in the pursuit of ideals, of empty promises of greatness to come. Truth was, his troops had won their fair share of battles, and today they had signed a treaty that would certainly benefit the district - the one he had lost his youth fighting for. He knew the capital would attempt at invasion, those greedy fucks wanted to bite more than they could chew - but that was no longer his problem. Today his contract ended. Today he was a free man.
And yet.
And yet all he could think about was you.
It was funny - he had spent more nights than he could remember wishing he could burn this half - dead village to the ground, all together with the maidens and the elderly still stick fending for themselves after the war. He presumed he'd be doing everyone a favor - he'd rid himself of the memories that haunted his dreams, and they wouldn't have to suffer any longer, not when all that winter would bring once again was even more hunger and decay.
After all, the victory changed nothing. The starving populace wouldn't starve anymore - it would simply die, having lost fathers, sons, daughters, farmers, merchants, healers. Nothing less than the very foundation of society. So maybe it would be far less cruel, far more humane, to burn everything and let them die with dignity.
But then you too would burn with the miserable souls of the damned. The man pictured it all - your beautiful skin still damp from the rain blistering in red and orange, and eventually black, those gems of yours trembling beneath your long eyelashes as the smoke swallowed your last breath.
The thought made Christoph irrationally angry - jealous even. Not only because he just imagined you dying, but because it was someone, something else stealing your final moment from him. Something else bruising your skin and forcing your lips to swell, something else causing you pain and suffering. No, he couldn't let you die. Not like this.
He couldn't help but recall your first meeting two years ago. Unbeknownst to you he had memorized it, citing each line by heart - envisioning it in his memory over and over each time he needed an escape, an outlet. The soldier wasn't one for softness, never one to dream and hope - but deep down he knew that this simple encounter had swayed the bullets. It had made him grip his rifle just a bit closer, made the biting wind just a bit warmer. He was a killing machine undeserving of humanity - yet you had saved him without even realizing it.
It was a cold winter night - quite opposite to this one, in the middle of Hell. The county your village was part of had been surrounded for a few weeks. Food was running low, and even clean water was scarce. All the men had been displaced a long time ago, sent off to fight in the eastern territories. Christoph was stuck at the Iron hills, a region so poor they didn't even bother to send additional armies to. If it lost, it lost. It held no special resources, no cultural or economic significance, no sea or forest roads to profit off of. All in all, no one wanted to serve here. No one but him.
Not that Christoph was too fond of the hills - it was more so that he didn't care where he was going to die. Whether it was on the eastern front, the western or even on the other side of the ocean, it didn't matter. And he had made peace with that fact - but before death took a toll on him, he was going to earn enough buck to buy good cigarettes for once in his miserable life. With real tobacco, none of that cheap imported trash they sold in his hometown.
And that's exactly how fate let him meet you. He was patrolling the border bridge late into the night - a thick cigar in hand (a parting gift from the general Murphy), humming to an old melody he couldn't quite remember the name of. He was alone that night - his friend had been injured so he needed to rest. The man was trying to stay alert, although the fatigue had long settled in between his tired bones and it refused to let go. The lack of sleep and the sheer paranoia was making him jumpy, ready to point his gun at the slightest of sound. He almost shot you that night.
"Colonel." You had whispered through gritted teeth, slowly raising your hands up as you approached him with a hesitant step. He blinked twice, unsure if he was still awake. Surely there was no way a young woman was out alone so late during wartime. "Colonel!" You repeated, putting a bit more force into your otherwise soft, calm voice. This seemed to snap him out of his trance and he finally raised his head to look at you, his sharp, intense gaze measuring you up from top to bottom. Just like a predator seizing his pray, like a soldier trained to keep his eyes on the target, he knew no other way to introduce himself other than with a silent, unspoken threat.
"A bit young to be calling me that, no?" The man snapped back, voice coming out more raspy than he intended - but it was hardly his fault. He rarely had visitors nowadays - no one wanted to expose themselves to the front lines, to risk becoming smoked meat, which meant he had little opportunity for chatter. So his voice had become rough - almost unnecessary cruel.
"I'm sorry." You mumbled, blurry eyes focused on the weapon resting oh - so snuggly against the soldier's heart as if guarding it. "I'm not familiar with your many titles, sir." You explained with a certain bite. Christoph squinted, growing amused at your little jab, yet the black mask covering his mouth hid it from you. The man knew exactly what you meant. You were not used to so much surveillance on your step - on everyone's step, so many eyes set on you as if you had a massive red target on your back. You were not used to armed forces ghosting around your small homely village with a gun resting at an arm's length just waiting to be loaded.
He wondered if it was your first time running into a soldier since the beginning of the occupation. He wondered if you were scared - if your heart was beating against your chest like it was trying to break through the skin. After all he was indeed intimidating - with heavy combat boots and a black uniform that did little to hide his rough figure, the lineage of lean muscle and battered blistered skin that undoubtedly belonged to a man. A man whose hands were still covered in dirt and blood. He could kill you. He could push you around - get some entertainment out of you. He could shove you down and use you like a cheap village whore - and no one would care because that's just how war is. He was serving his country, he needed an outlet, and you just happened to be there. No one would blame him.
He couldn't bring himself to come closer to you. He didn't trust himself to hold back when faced with something so fragile after months of letting his fists and his teeth do the speaking.
"That's lieutenant to you, miss." He barked in a tone that felt familiar - a tone that used to wake him up every morning at 5 for weeks on end. A tone that he could still hear every time he loaded his rifle and let go of the trigger with shaking fingers.
He couldn't be nice to you. He couldn't be nice to anyone in this bloodshed. And yet he heard himself asking you for your name. It hadn't meant anything - it was a long night and he was bored. Lonely, maybe, he couldn't tell his feelings apart very well. You hesitated for a second too long before you finally gave him a clear answer. It was the most beautiful sound he had heard - not just now, but ever.
"Would you mind explaining why you're here so late, miss?" The man tilted his head, trying to understand your unreadable expression - somehow you looked lost in time, striken by fear and grievance. "I believe the general gave direct orders this morning. No one should be out after ten." He paused to take a long, dramatic puff off his cigar. "It's too dangerous. Especially for a pretty little thing like you to be roaming at night." He knew his boldness was making you uneasy, and that he shouldn't derive such obvious pleasure from your discomfort, but he just couldn't help it. He was lonely. He was sick. And most of all, he was a bastard who had already given up on life. He had nothing to lose.
"Truth be told, if you were mine I wouldn't let you out of sight, miss." He grinned, feeling just a bit disgusted with himself. He wasn't sure why, but he wanted to scare you. To creep you out so bad you'd never go out alone again. Why he had got so invested so quickly, he also couldn't tell.
"I... I needed a breath of f-fresh air, l-leutenant." You responded quickly, eager to leave this conversation as soon as possible - completely ignoring anything he said. Your initial confidence had evaporated as the wet cold crept into your thin coat. It didn't fit your frame - it was too big on you and it reeked of a man's first proper cologne. The thought of it filled the soldier with unreasonable, hot -red fury, imagining you next to some nameless brat with his hands wrapped around you.
"That's all?" The corners of his lips stretched mockingly as he let his smoke blow into your face - and you had to fight the urge to immediately wave it off.
"Are you, are you implying something, sir?" You fiddled with your fingers nervously, looking anywhere but at Christoph. He found it pathetically adorable. "Just curious." He took another long puff - his breath coming out frozen - white as it hit the icy air. "You don't seem like the brave type to me." His eyes narrowed to two pitch black slits. He must have looked terrifying to you in that moment, and he loved it. "So just what-" He pulled you in by the collar. "Are you doing here, huh?"
You froze in place as if he had pointed his gun to you yet again. You swallowed loudly, trying to come up with an explanation - but nothing came to mind when you were so obviously scared. The soldier could feel your heartbeat - he could hear the blood pumping to your ears as you looked around hopelessly for help that wouldn't come. And just like that the wolf had the rabbit dancing in its own trap.
"Are you just looking for trouble, hmm?" The man reached in to curl his finger around one of your loose locks. He didn't want to make you feel so awfully small - but everything about this situation, from the tremble of your lips to the sheer panic in your eyes was going straight to his cock. "I'm sure that with a face like that you never lacked attention, no?" He tilted his head with predatory malice. "But now all the men bending over backwards for you are off somewhere, dying as we speak. Poor little you - I can imagine just how lonely you are." He pressed his body closer to yours. "The thing is, I am more than willing to play with you in their pl-"
"Please, lieutenant." You couldn't stand to listen to him any longer, a thousand warm pleas already falling off your desperate lips. "Please let me go." Your eyes softened, trying to hide the first sign of hot wet tears. "I need to go home to my siblings. I need to bring them fo-"
"Why should that matter to me, dollface?" It was his turn to interrupt you - voice full of childish glee as he kept up with his petty torment.
"Because - because," You started off, hands shaking into little fists that you knew, realistically, could do the soldiers no damage were you to push against his chest. "Because you're a good man." You mumbled after a while, looking for the right words to say. "And I know that deep down you're kind and brave. That's why you're here now, fighting for all our lives."
You were such a pretty liar, Christoph thought. He could listen to your sugary sweet fairytales all night long, silently praying that they'd become true if he was only able to capture his own little fairy - his own miracle.
"What if I am not the hero, doll?" The man whispered darkly in response, leaning against you until your back hit the tree behind you, trapping you between his stiff body and the pillar. "What if I am here for all the wrong reasons, huh? Just think about it." He lowered his head so it would match your eye level - you were so quiet he wondered if you had forgotten how to breath.
"We're in the middle of nowhere. I have a weapon and a direct permission to shoot at will. I can do whatever the fuck I want." He made sure you could hear every single word clearly. He wouldn't let you faint before he was through with you. "I can fuck you right here in the open - or I can drag you to the barracks and keep you there for as long as I need to. Do you really think anyone would care about some insignificant girl going missin-"
"Please." You repeated, suddenly getting stirn with your pleading, as if you too had nothing to lose. "Let me go - I'd do anything."
His eyes darkened - then lit up with sick, perverse desire. He wanted to echo your words back to you just like a classical villain would - to really drive the point across that he was out for blood. Anything, you say? Anything at all? But he couldn't contain his excitement enough to voice those sadistically banal thoughts. Besides, he could already feel the adrenaline running through his whole body. His heart was beating rhythmically, pumping and alive for the first time in days, weeks, months. He wanted you more than anything. It was that moment he knew he was going to live - he was going to fight and win, and then come back for you as a hero. As your hero, even if in your eyes he would be more of a villain.
A nightmare you'd try to forget - and just when you think you have erased his fingertips off your waist, your face, your neck, he'd come back to steal you away forever.
"Kiss me." Christoph all but snarled, some unfamiliar, needy - greedy ball of emotion settling into his loins as your delicate face twisted into a petrified grimace. You began trembling in his arms, looking around yet again. It was pitch black, no soul in sight. You inhaled deeply, trying to steady your movement to no avail. "A-alright. I-I..." You whispered with difficulty as if simply saying the words was causing you a great deal of pain. And maybe it was, but the soldier could care less. He already knew you were made for him - made to serve him, made to make him happy. "I'll d-do it."
The man growled in satisfaction, taking a small step back. You looked at him, puzzled - your confused face was just as cute as your scared one. He couldn't wait to explore all your reactions - the way you'd squirm and writhe underneath him as he fucked into you restlessly, filling you up with his love over and over again until you were crying for mercy. But that had to wait, he had a war to fight. For now he could settle for a little taste of you to keep him warm during the cold nights. And just like that he tapped his lips, guiding you silently. You felt your cheeks heat up once you finally understood what he meant by that. He wasn't going to kiss you. He wanted you to put in the work.
Your eyes filled up with tears, and you felt silly for becoming so upset over a little kiss - but this was your first kiss, and you had to give it to a monster. It was certainly better than the alternative, with the alternative being rape in a filthy military cottage, but it still made you feel dirty all over. Yet, you had no choice. You took a step towards the man - you could feel the suffocating warmth radiating off his body towards yours, and if the situation wasn't so grim, you might have been grateful for another human's heat in the freezing cold. But now all you could feel was dread.
You stood on your tip toes, a shaky hand reaching out to cup the stranger's face. Cristoph smirked, complecent at your obedience. You licked your lips and slowly, hesitantly pressed them against his, just barely touching at all.
He groaned, unable to keep his hands to himself any longer. He grabbed you and pulled you in roughly, squeezing you like a plush toy. He deepened the kiss, forcing his tongue deep into your mouth, finding heaven between your soft, sweet lips and broken whimpers. You were so innocent. So lost. He wanted to take you into his arms and never let go. He wanted to keep kissing you until your lips turned blue, until it hurt to speak.
And then you pushed him off just like that, using your own body as a distraction. He tripped backwards, too shocked and lost in sensation to stop you. He smiled at your final act of defiance. It was, of course, adorable and so painfully you, yet it didn't really matter - not in the long run. You had only suceeded in making him want you more.
But that was two years ago. Now the war was finally over. Now he had enough to start a new life. Now he was a free man.
And he was coming back for you.
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WarTrophy! Reader x Warlord
With a post-apocalyptic twist. I was gonna do the usual medieval style thing for the warlord, but I got inspired by Mad Max: Thunder Dome (An amazing movie), to do post apocalyptic sorta thing. Any way hope you enjoy!
TW: Gn!reader, Verbal and somewhat physical SA, grubby and sleezy male characters. Reader is from a well looked after community, therefore when the Warlord and his raiders come to town, chaos erupts. Violence, murder, battle and raiding, reader given fem pet names but no gender described. In my mind this is canonically set in Australia, because I am Australian and also mad max is set in Australia and also post-apocalyptic fiction just makes sense when set in Australia. Also reader has nickname blue
They came in the night. No warning, no threat along the horizon. Just pure violence coming to reek havoc in the moonless night. You were awoken to the sounds of screaming, cries burning at your ears. Jumping to your feet you rushed to your window, over looking the community of survivors and refuges. Death was everywhere. The town was alight with flames, the warning siren howling over the sound of shrieks and bellows of fear. You stood in shock and incomprehension for a moment, the shacks, houses and huts were being ransacked by men dressed in camouflaged uniforms. Men and women who tried to defend their homes were being cut down where they stood, or dragged away by their hair. Children were left to fend for themselves, some crying amongst the flames, watching their parents being slaughtered. Loud banging broke you from the spell you were under, someone was trying to break down your door.
"Open up!" A man yelled, continuing to try to kick the scrap metal that made your door. It wouldn't take long, it was barely put together. A split second decision was made in your mind. You couldn't stay where you were, you couldn't even stop to make a plan, or grab anything of use. You had to run, and quickly. Still in your sleepwear, you raced through your house, opening your back down with a grunt, just as your front door was slammed open. You rushed into the back alley, stunned by the destruction laid waste upon your town. You turned your back on your friends, family, community and rushed into the darkness of the buildings, leaving your town to burn.
This town was never truly meant to be a town. Before the Collapse it had been a nothing more than a water treatment plant. In the days and weeks after the collapse, people began flocking to its promise of water. Somehow ever after the loss of electricity, the plant still held thousands of litres of water, making it a refuge for all those who survived the end of the world.
You had been one of the very first to arrive, you had been fortunate to arrive with your parents and a few members of your extended family. You and your family practically built this town, saved this community. There was a reason why people knew who you were, why they moved out of the way as you walked past. It was your family this town was named after, your blood that raised it from ash.
And yet here you were, hiding in the shadows. Running for your life. Granted, there wasn't much you could do. The town lived in peace for so long that only the town militia were tasked with defence. Over the years, bullets, and gunpowder, became in short supply, leaving the hunks of metal once called guns useless. Most were melted down to make melee weapons, are fashioned into more primitive form of muskets. In many ways your town turned back into the past to strive for a better future. Most things were run on steam or water powered. Limited supply of gunpowder was made using items traded with other surviving communities. People turned back to the ways of their fore parents, hunting and farming. Life was good. Until it wasn't.
You came to a sudden halt, quickly hiding behind wooden boxes against the wall. The masked, camouflaged men ran past, yelling orders to one another. You grimaced as you saw a selective few were armed with guns. Pre-collapse guns. Either they were just for show, or someone very smart and determined figured out how to make them work in a time such as these. Most, however, had musket-like weapons and machetes and knives. At least you knew if it came down to it, there was a chance that you just had to be quicker than your assailant rather than having to dodge a bullet to survive.
After they run past, you quickened towards the wooden wall that encircled your town. In some places it was reinforced with steel and rock, but it would take decades to finally make a proper defensive structure. As the child of the founding family, you knew exactly what you were looking for. Once, when the wall was still being erected, and nothing but a metal fence separated you and the raiders of the new world, you had found a hole in the fence. Big enough that you and your childhood friend had been able to sneak out of town into the great unknown. Even when they began to reinforce it with wood and steel, you made sure the hole was still uncoverable.
You landed on your knees in front of where you remembered the hole to be. Footsteps were hurrying towards you. Raiders, friends or terrified civilians, you did not know. You focused purely on pushing the scrap of metal from covering the hole, leaning down, you pushed with all your might the large rock you had shimmed into place last time you had snuck out. It had been years since you had down so, it was just before Red had left, there was no need to sneak out anymore if he wasn't there to follow. You crawled through the hole, end in sight. The hole feeling much smaller than it did as a child. You knew your family would make it out. They would have to, right? So would friends and comrades. They were smart. Like you. They knew when to abandon ship.
If there had been a warning then of course you would have stayed, till the very end. Your task for the community was Peacemaker, a diplomate of this new crazed world. You were quite good at it too. Negotiation and diplomacy your strongest skills. If they had given warning, maybe you could reason with them, maybe no one had to have died. But raiders that come in the dark of night, killing all they willed , were not the sort of combatant you stayed around to reason with. Your task was to live, to survive, then to come back and rebuild. Always rebuild, as your parents had done all those years ago.
The metal of the broken fence dug into your hips, bringing forth a hiss of pain from your lips. You pushed through the pain, cursing as the metal dug deeper and deeper. With one last gasp, you heaved your hips through the fence, feeling the metal rip at the fabric of your clothes. Just as you were about to get up, run straight for the safety of the wilderness, a harsh grip landed on your ankle. Before even a thought could pass through your mind. You were dragged back, with force, through the hole. You screamed and kicked. Hands digging into the ground, fingers and nails desperately trying to find a hold in the soft dirt. You were flipped over. A man leering down at you.
"Ain't you a pretty thing, aye?" he sneered, his mouth opening in a wicked smile, showcasing missing and yellowed teeth. You scrunched your face in disgust, both at the sight in front of you and his hand gripping tighter onto your ankle. You were about to use your free leg to give him a swift kick, but the sight of a large hunting knife in his hand made you pause. He followed your gaze to it.
"Aw don't worry love, I'm not gonna use this thing on you, long as ya don't make a fuss." His smile grew, showcasing more blacked and cracked teeth. His face was a red blotchy colour, sweat dripped from his forehead, his weak chin wobbled as he spoke. In the fire light you could see the red veins of his eyes.
You tested his grip on you, trying to catch him unaware. Instead it backfired, resulting in him sitting on top of you, letting your ankle go.
"You be good for me sweets and I'll try to be as gentle as I can yeah?" he chuckled, your blood running cold. This man wanted something from you and there was no reason in the world that would stop him. You cannot reason with an evil man. You began to shriek, preferring him to killing you now than to suffer the injustice of his touch.
"Nobodies coming to save ya darl', Best ya get used to being on your back for me, it's gonna be real familiar by the time I get tired of you. Make me cum enough and I might just keep you" he leaned down against you, tongue licking up along your cheek. You began to trash harder, screaming. Begging. Praying. For anything, for anyone to came save you. He laughed at your misery, lifting him self back up to undo his belt.
"You ready for me to make you my whor-" a gargle where words should follow. You watched in shock as a knife was plunged in the back of his skull. Blood splattered down on you, your mouth open wide in fear and relief. You scrambled back as the evil man fell forward. You backed up against the wall, you could feel the wind blowing through the hole, your escape route still open. You started to make a mad dash for the opening, not thinking or even able to process what had happened, only focusing on what might have happened, what that man was intent on doing.
In a sick sense of Deja vu, you were once ripped from the opening. You were a bundle of feet and hands punching and kicking in all directions, your voice was hoarse from screaming bloody murder. A strong set of arms pulled you against them, and you fought like hell to be free.
"It's alright blue, its alright" came a familiar and calming voice. Only one person called you that in favour of your real name. You opened your eyes, there he was. Alive, breathing and surrounded by masked, camouflaged men.
"Red?" you whispered, not daring to shatter this illusion that he was still alive, that he had found his way back to you. You must be going mad. That evil man must have killed you, or you died in the smoke and flames burning your town. You blinked, pinched yourself. Even reached a hand to touch his face.
"It's me blue" he smiled, a perfect, lovely smile. Just as you remembered.
The men behind him shifted, causing you to panic, you grabbed red's hand and tried to run. You weren't gonna lose him again.
Instead of running into the fray once more, you were pulled back to red's arms.
"Red! We have to go! They'll kill us, please!" You begged, eyes looking into his warm brown ones. He places his hands on your arms, essentially trapping you were you stood.
"Red?" you questioned, why wasn't he worried, why weren't the men descending on you both with knifes raised. What was going on?
The fires had begun to die down, the screaming and crying was replaced with whispers of fear and a few sobs cried into the night. The warning siren slowed down to a halt.
"Red?" you whispered, not a question but a plea.
'Please still be the boy I knew before'
He looked down into your eyes, a sigh making its way pasted his lips.
He turns to his men.
"Bring all the prisoners to the town centre, no one is to harm the survivors unless I deem so. That includes coercing or forcing yourselves onto anyone. Understand?" he orders. His men giving a quick nod and salute before turning into the dying lights of the fire.
"No" you exclaim.
No, no, no, no, no
You shake your head, tears threatening to fall.
"You are one of them?" you gasp. The boy you knew as a child, the boy you had come to love, the boy who disappeared into the night, on a night eerily similar to this, returned as a raider, a killer, a monster.
A gives you a slight smirk, hands gripping you tighter.
"I'm not just one of them blue, I command them, I rule them" he boasts. A wicked gleam in his eyes.
"Traitor" you hiss. "You fucking monster! You absolute fucking bastard!"
Your anger overwhelmed whatever love you still had for him. Curled fists began attacking him, aiming for the face, when that wasn't enough to quell your fury, you tried scratching out his eyes. A pain seared across your face, you became unbalanced and fell on the very man who had threatened you a mere minute ago. Red had slapped you, caused you pain. One might argue you deserved it, lashing out like that. Most would say that's fucking irrelevant since he caused the destruction and violent occupation of your town.
"C'mon blue, you really gonna act out? I was being so nice too. Saved you from this fucker didn't I? Could've just let him have you" he pouted, head tilting to watch you try standing back up, giving the man's body a small kick while doing so. You balked at the sight of the evil man, his eyes still unnerving, even more so that he is dead, the movement of Red's kick, gave you the sick impression he was still alive.
A dangerous idea spread into your mind. The hunting knife lay unclaimed next to you. Red was unarmed as far as you could tell. You clasped the knife in a hurry, but before being able to take a slash or even stand up, Red's boot came crushing down onto your wrist. You squealed in pain, releasing the knife in a instant. His free boot kicked the knife away.
"Is that anyway to welcome home an old mate?" he tsked, "I know its been a few years, but come on blue, really? This? Trying to take me out with a knife?"
"What the fuck Red" you gasped, boot still crushing your wrist. "What the hell is going on, raiding? Seriously? this town was your home! How could you turn on us like that. How-how could you turn on me?" Pain, both physical and emotional rushed through your voice, once more tears began to spring, from the pain or the torment of knowing that your best friend was responsible for the death of dozens in your community.
"C'mon Blue! It ain't personal. Just the business of surviving. You think it brings me joy to burn this place to the ground? I mean to be honest it kinda does, but you know that story. But we don't have time to talk about that, right now you and I have a speech to get to." he grins, dark and cold. No way this is the curly haired kid you knew as a child. Red back then could barely kick a toad than massacre innocent civilians.
You let out a sigh of relief as he removes his boot. Only to let out a yelp in surprise as you are thrown over his shoulder.
"Let me go!" you cry, wiggling and worming in his hold.
"Not yet love! Got places to see and people to humiliate" his deranged laugh filled the silent streets you called home.
Before you only were able to see the destruction from a window still, or when you were at the edges of the fight. But now, now you saw everything. You watched in sorrow as you passed the bakery, still blazing alone, as the houses and shakes next to it had been pulled down. The school had been ransacked, pages and books lining the street in silent array. Childs' drawings danced lifelessly across the ground in the breeze.
Without even seeing where he was taking you, you knew where you were going. The town centre. A magnificent fig tree, alone in its splendour made for quite the impressive centre piece of the town. Speeches, weddings, announcements, birthdays and funerals were all held under its comforting branches. It calmed you to still see it still standing. Leaves fell with a hush down from its branches, as if it was crying watching the town that loved it go up in smoke.
You could hear your townspeople's whispers of fear and confusion as the watched you be carried into line of sight. You could see most of the towns population was still alive. The small group of men who were spared were pushed to one side, guarded heavily, despite being made up of elders, young boys, and a few injured men. The cluster of women and children were larger. You could see your friends and family in both groups. All accounted for, thank goodness. You were placed onto the ground and given to two guards, both quickly clasping onto your arms like their lives depended on it. You were off to the side, as Red sauntered his way to front and centre. He always loved being the centre of attention.
"Good people! How's it going?" he exclaimed, arms open wide and a smile gracing his lips. You could see confusion, vague recognition and just plain hatred line people's faces. More importantly you saw your parents both looking at you in absolute despair. You gave them a short smile and a nod, taking a deep breath when they followed suit.
Red began to speak again.
"Some of you may remember me, other's may not. I was one of you once, another member of this pathetic, weak society. You have no strength, despite your numbers. No courage or skill in warfare. Just a load of farmers, tradesmen and women. If this was any other town I would slaughter you all" he grins as if he is discussing a lovely day spent at the beach. Whispers become murmurs. Murmurs become barely contained talks of a massacre, of your towns soon extinction. You began to take shallower, faster breaths.
"Alright, calm down everyone. Maybe we need to work on our listening skills, aye? Now, let's put on our listening caps everyone. I said if you were any other town. Lucky for you bastards I actually like you guys! I had a good run here. Made some lovely mates" a pointed look thrown in your direction. "And was pretty well looked after, well until, you know. So in honour of the good times I had here. I have a compromise for you all." He clasps his hands together, and teeters back and froth from his toes to his heels.
"My men and I have already killed a whole bunch of ya, so how bout we move on from that, aye? You guys are gonna have to boost your numbers after my little stunt, and who better than the very people who massacred your friends and family!" looks of bitter disgust flow across the crowd.
"Yikes, bit of a tough crowd yeah. Alright look, the fellas and I used to have a pretty good place. But the waters run dry and also we're getting up in years, and so we're looking for a place to settle down. To have people to settle down with. So yeah we killed a whole bunch of your men, but hey! We're here to replace that gap. Maybe even help you guys with the whole defence side of things. I mean were those soldier fellas of yours even trained? They were easier to kill than a dead roo!" he barks out a laugh, his men following suit.
'What the fuck is wrong with him' you thought. Clearly years in the bush led to insanity.
"Oh! Before I forget" he stares in your direction, slowly making his way over. You squirm under his gaze uncomfortably. "If you little shits try any sort of rebellion or some shit like that. I'll slit their pretty little throat."
In a moment he brings a knife close to your throat. You reach your chin up, desperate to remove the icy sensation away from you. You look at where his eyes are directed, straight towards your mother, then slowly transferred to your father. Without their approval, any hope of rebellion or uprising is dashed. You are the perfect hostage.
"Great! Glad we could have this chat. So go have a good ole' sleep. Got a whole day of cleaning up to do tomorrow!" he beams, pulling the knife away just as quickly as he produced it. He turns his back on the towns people, grabbing your arm from one of the guards. You are dragged past the fig tree towards the council hall, located within the old water treatment plant. It is then you see how truly outnumbered you were. Nearly over a hundred men, all masked and camouflaged, line the water treatment plant, even with the men who were killed, there was no way your town could have fought them off.
You pulled back from Red, trying to get him to release his grasp.
"What is it blue? Thought you'd be happier to see your childhood mate"
"Fuck you, you dog" you spit, anger clear as day.
Red halts, and turns to you.
"Don't make me hurt you again."
It wasn't what he said, more so than how he said it. He's eyes lost their humanity, his features fell into sudden darkness, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. You were looking into the eyes of an evil man.
You gave a quick nod, hoping he would lose interest.
"Good!" he cheers, and goes back into dragging you up the steps to the plant.
"Ya know I've never had a war trophy before" he mumbles
"Pardon?" confusion across your face turning into disgust
"You, your a war trophy." he deadpans as if its the simplest thing in the world to understand.
"I'm not a trophy" you grumble
"Cause you are, pretty enough, and you really think I'm ever gonna let you outta my sight again Blue? I've been dreaming about this day for years."
You carefully gazed up at him, his grasp on you had begun to soften.
He notices your confusion, or want for an explanation at the very least.
"You really think I would attack this place for water? Or for my men's retirement plan? Nah, blue. I burnt this town down for you, and I'd do it ten times over if you just asked."
It is then you are reminded of the skinny, lanky boy you made friends with as a child. Your mother used to laugh and call him your dog, when your father said it, he said it with annoyance. It was true, Red followed you around like a pup, always doing what you wanted and when. You didn't like remembering the day he left, mainly cause he was practically run out of town. It just took a slip of your tongue, it was an accident after all. You were a child, and didn't realise that sometimes words were dangerous. You didn't realise how much Red took your words to heart, or how much he cared to.
' Red, sometimes I just wish...'
'What blue? Tell me, I'll make it true'
'Well I just wish he was dead!'
You knew Red was being perfectly honest when he said he would burn this town down if you asked. He had already tried before.
I don't know about the ending or if reader is really a war trophy but the words came and i just put them down.
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trying to enjoy my job as a pizza delivery guy but every customer is a beautiful scantily clad woman who unfortunately doesn't have any money but would love to pay a different way. please i am in financial ruin
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