#I see the danger it’s written there in your eyes
Text
Bad Boys Bring Roses - G.S.
Synopsis. You’ve never dealt with the yakuza - not once. So why is the future head of the Gojo clan suddenly coming up to you, demanding that you marry him for 30 days?
Pairing. Yakuza boss! Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, yakuza! au, fake marriage, annoyances to lovers, elders suck, mentioned k*lling (not reader or Satoru), Satoru is INSANE and SO down bad, one bed trope, praise, biting, oral (fem receiving), fíngering, unprotected, créampie, spitting, overstim, flower language, kníves, bit dark, HAPPY ENDING, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 9.1k (whoopsies)
A/N. I just HAD to get this out of my mind like I wanna write an entire book series on this. Spent too long researching rose language as well so see if y’all catch that hehe.
You thought the wedding invitation was a joke when it had arrived - a delicate, lacey little card that you’ve probably read over a million times by now. It had been stuffed haphazardly into your mailbox, along with a ridiculously large bouquet of purple roses. Seemingly inconspicuous when you first tore into the thick envelope, wondering which one of your friends was getting married now.
And it was - that is, until you saw your name at the very top - right where the blushing bride’s was supposed to be.
We hereby formally invite you to the marriage of…
What?
No return address. No date. No groom’s name either. Only yours, written in beautiful, golden writing - inviting you to your own wedding, exactly a week from now.
You remember perfectly the way you’d flipped it over and over in your hands, the gears turning in your head as you tried to crack down on the motive behind this invitation. A threat? A joke? Texting all of your friends about what a cute prank that was - only to get a shared confused reaction, and a few “April Fool’s has already passed, y’know.”
Hell, you’d even cornered the mailman, desperate to get to the bottom of this. But that wasn’t particularly helpful when he was only able to shake his head in protest, pale as a sheet, and trembling ever-so-slightly as he sped away from you. Weird.
Without a clue as to who sent the letter, or even a follow-up in the days after, you stuffed the invitation somewhere deep in the back of your closet and handed the bouquet to your mother. Not bothering to tell your parents where it was from - because who’d worry over a stupid prank like this? It was probably one of the kids from down the street that’d gotten their grubby lil’ hands on a printer.
You, however, had more important things to focus on - like trying to help your father revive his failing diner. It was a family business, a quaint, hearty little shop. One that was quickly, and dangerously, losing both customers and employees with the brand new fast food place that’d popped up right across the street.
Which is why you found yourself here - working overtime on a Saturday night, looking over the empty chairs and stacks of boxes from behind the counter. Whatever, it was only a few weeks until relocation anyway.
You heave out a sigh, eyes flitting to the clock beside you - 11:21pm.
Nine minutes more, you drum your fingers in boredom, maybe you should just close up early. Because sure as hell no one else was-
“Oh? Still open?”
“Ah- Uh, yes, welcome!” Jolting out of your reverie, you stand up ramrod straight, taking in the customer standing at the door. He wasn’t one of the regulars - no, you think you’d remember if he was. Cloudy white hair, piercing blue eyes that twinkle from above his shades, even in the dim light of the diner. He was so very tall, taking up almost all of the doorframe, only getting more and more imposing as he walks up to you in quick, long strides. Magnetizing.
And if you dared let your eyes wonder, you caught a few tattoos peeking out from his unfairly snug button-up, clashing with its flashy blue color. Dragons? Trees? Or were they flowers - roses?
“Roses.” the man in front of you answers your unspoken question, voice so very deep, and melodic - tinged with something playful in it that you wouldn’t have expected at first glance. At your raised brow he continues with a wink, “Could tell ya were checkin’ me out, sweetheart.”
“F-forgive my rudeness, sir.” you sputter, face burning. You look away from the way his muscled ripple as he crosses his arms, immediately turning to fumble with the menus, “Please take a seat and I’ll be there with you shortly.”
You’d expected him to take up a booth, or maybe head towards one of the good tables around the corner. What you did not expect was for him to plop down on the stool right in front of you, flashing you a playful grin before humming, “S’alright, m’just waitin’ for someone.”
Oh. Well, it made sense that someone like him would be taken. Swallowing, you hand over the menu, before giving him a close-lipped smile, “A lover?”
Resting his head on his palms, not bothering to even glance at the list of dishes before him. “My fiancée.”
“Congratulations, Mr…”
“Gojo Satoru.” he tilts his head, looking way too happy with himself. “Please, call me Satoru.”
You nod softly, picking up your pen and notepad to get this conversation over with - and maybe to also avoid his heavy stare that made something hot and uncomfortable coil in your stomach. “Right, Mr-” at his disappointed whine, “Satoru. Congratulations, must be one heck of a thing to plan.”
“Oh I’m having fun with the wedding planning.” He waves off your words with a chuckle, missing - or pointedly ignoring - the way you were waiting for his order. “How’s it going for you?”
What?
You narrow your eyes at the way Satoru was batting those long lashes up at you, deceivingly innocent and waiting for your answer. “I’m sorry- Me? Did you mean with the diner relocation plans or-”
“No no no.” he laughs, loud and boisterous. And usually you’d have a thing or two to say at someone interrupting you if you weren’t so mesmerized by that little dimple at the corner of his grin. One that moves as he plows on, “M’asking how wedding planning is going for you, wifey~”
There’s a beat of silence. One. Two. With you gaping at the pure audacity as Satoru quiets down to little titters, seemingly studying your reaction in amusement. Which slowly, but surely, drains from his face as you grit out a sharp, “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, sir. We’re very busy and don’t have time to entertain your pick-up lines.”
Those widened blue eyes sweep the painfully empty diner, letting out a low whisper. “I can see that.” you let out a strangled noise of embarrassment at that. “But you’re really gonna ask your husband to leave?”
Huffing in frustration, “I don’t have a husband.”
“...you do.”
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
“I don’t. And who the fuck are you to tell me I do?”
“What?!” Satoru jumps out of his seat in shock, fast enough that the stool clatters to the floor with a deafening clang! Hands slamming on the counter as he leans over it - so close that you could feel his minty breath fanning your face with each hurried, shrill word that tumbles out of his lips. “What do you mean you don’t have a- I’m gonna kill those fuckin’- After I bought Canva premium just to make that invitation? Did the flowers come at least?”
And while Satoru is panicking, words spilling out of his mouth a mile a minute - only one of those rings in your mind - invitation.
“You.” you hiss, barely audible over meltdown in front of you. Pointing a finger accusingly, “You’re the one behind that prank with the dumbass roses.”
That seems to snap Satoru out of his dramatic monologue - and you’re glad it did. Because he looks up to meet your glare, “Hey! You didn’t like the roses?”
And for the first time, you see Satoru more serious than he’d been ever since stepping into this diner. Eyes somewhere behind you, ablaze and almost…frightening. “Didn’t you ask him?”
You whirl around to see your father, who’d apparently rushed downstairs at the commotion. Baseball bat to fight off the intruder hanging in midair as he stands frozen, taking in the scene before him - but more importantly, that man in front of him. “You.”
---
And, well, it’s not everyday that you’re having late night tea with your parents and one of your father’s…business associates. Even rarer when said business associate is…you gulp, praying to whoever’s above that this is all some sick dream you’ll wake up any second from.
“So, let me get this straight…” you sigh, pinching your nose in frustration. It’s been an hour or two of trying to understand whatever this was. Giving a stern look at the two men squirming across from you in the booth. “My father was conned by one of your-” you gesture your head at Satoru, which only makes his smirk grow, “-men to take a loan from your um-”
“Family, yakuza. Anything goes.” he supplies helpfully.
You wave him off, trying as quickly as possible to brush off the ‘yakuza’ bit that makes your stomach lurch. “And now he owes you a favor of…what exactly?”
Satoru leans across the table, t-shirt opening tantalizingly. Voice dropping to an almost-pleading murmur, “Look, I just need you to pretend to be my doting, loving, charming, gorgeous-” backtracking at your withering glare, “...Anyway. I just need a fake wife for a few months, convince my family to get off my back about arranged marriage n’ carrying the Gojo legacy. Then bam! you stomp all over my heart, we divorce and I’m too heartbroken to ever get married again. Easy.”
“No.”
“Please?”
“No.”
You bet Satoru’s disappointed groan echoed across all 23 words of Tokyo, because it was definitely ringing in your ears amongst whirlwind thoughts of marriage? To a yakuza? Completely, and utterly ridiculous. And from his talks of “carrying the family name” it seemed like he was some sort of future head as well. Though, he definitely wasn’t acting like it right now.
“Alright. Plan B, then.”
Oh? You couldn’t help but think that maybe he wasn’t that much of a manchild as sits up from where he’d been splayed all over the table in tragedy. Lacing his fingers together before turning to your father, continuing in a more diplomatic tone, “But I want the cash you took. In full. Now. Gonna hafta disguise my best friend as my wife, n’ dresses for a six foot man aren’t cheap.”
Your mother looked like she could faint right then and there. Choking out a noise of surprise, “B-but we’ve deposited it all for the relocation- Please, can’t we pay any other-”
At the firm shake of his head, you stammer, “Now? Aren’t you some yakuza nepo baby, can’t you just ask your parents for money?”
“No.” Satoru chuckles, in a tone which told you that he probably could but might just lose his head for it. Only further supported as he muses, “Not unless I want a finger cut off for dealin’ money on the side. Seriously, sweetheart, why did you think I sent you the invitation last week?”
“Take me instead.” you father cries, trying to negotiate above Satoru’s half-joking mutters of “Ugh, I’m not into ol’ men dumb enough to sign yakuza contracts.”
It was all too much. You couldn’t take out the relocation deposit - it was a new start, possibly the only thing to save your family. Nor do you have enough in savings to pay back the loan. And if Satoru’s warning was anything to listen to, then you knew that dealing with the yakuza could be dangerous. Why you? Why you? Why you?
“Fine.”
The moment that word leaves your lips, it’s like the whole world freezes. Everyone in the room - including yourself - unsure of whether they heard you right. “I’ll do it.” you clarify, voice hesitant but firm. Eyeing the way Satoru’s eyes begin to sparkle, the beginnings of a smile curling his lips. Raising a finger to shush your father’s protests, “But for a month, until we leave this place. After that m’going with my family and you’re never to contact us ever again. Deal?”
And oh Satoru seemed over the moon, reaching out to grasp your hand in a handshake - so warm, and softer than you’d imagined. “Swear on m’life, wifey. You can kill me if not.”
He was so intimidating - and intimidatingly exhilarating.
Only an hour more of arguing and a quick phone call later, men - yakuza, you assume - were flooding your family’s little diner. All tattooed and burly, looking somewhat comical as they carried your few packed-up suitcases outside. Well, at least they stayed for a late dinner.
And ended up being witnesses to a very rushed, very rushed signing of marriage agreements. Evidence to really show up your alleged marriage. It barely even lasted a few minutes before, well, that was that - you were married, to the son of a yakuza head.
You say a quick goodbye to your teary parents, soothing them with promises of “I’ll be back before you know it. One month. That’s all.”
“And don’t worry about a thing,” Satoru sing-songs, coming up behind you. “If there’s anyone she’s safe with, it’s me.”
“You better keep your mitts off of my baby.” your father warns, raising the baseball bat still clutched in his hand menacingly.
“I won’t lay a hand on her, father-in-law. And anyone that even thinks about it…” he cackles, breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I’ll kill.”
Prancing off to hold the door of that shiny black Mercedes parked outside open for you. “Ladies first.”
With another quick hug to your parents, you hastily make your way inside. Feeling extremely out of place amongst the overly luxurious interior in your slightly-stained work uniform. God, the covers on these cushions themselves probably cost more than your house.
“Like the car? I can buy you one. Or four, as a wedding gift.” Satoru grins.
Oh, right. You weren’t in here alone - you were here with your new…husband. The word felt so strange to even wrap your head around, instead you turn to meet his easy smile. Clenching your jaw as you grit out, “So how do we act m-married?”
You swear he brightens up impossibly, scooting closer to you on the seat. Heart lurching as he raises his eyes to meet yours, dizzy with the heat of his proximity, he promptly pulls out his Notes app.
“Well, you see. I forgot to send this with the invitation so you better memorize this before we get home.” flashing you a long, long list of likes and dislikes, “Here’s my favorite color and my favorite Digimon and-”
That car ride could not have been longer. Because in addition to arguing with Satoru about who the best Digimon was, you had to fill out your own version of his overly extensive list. “So we can be foolproof.” he’d whined. And you’d been so engrossed in the process that you barely noticed the looming estate out the window.
“We’re here, young master and madam Gojo.”
It took a second to register that the driver was talking to you as well as Satoru, immediately pushing your face against the window to take in the scenic site before you. Heavy wooden doors - probably taller than an average house - opening to reveal sprawling gardens. Koi ponds and rose bushes lining a pathway that led to a traditional Japanese house - all power and glory. You half wondered whether you were still in Tokyo.
“Home sweet home.” Satoru grunts. “Such a beautiful hell, huh?”
Your home, for the next month. At least.
And if you had any doubt that Satoru was in fact the future yakuza head, that all went out the window at the welcome you got. Men lining the wooden hallway, bowing at the waist while your all-new husband wraps a hand around your shoulders, pointing out the various rooms and ornaments as he led you in.
“-and this is going to be our room.” he brings you in front of a large tatami room, one the size of your entire diner.
“Ours.” you repeat. Walking unhurriedly to the king-sized bed in the middle - the only bed. Heart pounding as you take it all in.
“Ours.” Satoru echoes, happily. And if he was any bit as affected as you are, then he doesn’t show it, instead pulling out a blue yukata from the closet, a golden Gojo emblem stamped on the back. Made with such a pretty, delicate fabric that it made you shiver to think how much it cost. “Now, I had these made jus’ for you last week. You can give me a lil’ fashion show tomorrow, so make sure you get some rest, wifey.”
It’s only when he says the word “rest” that you realize exactly how tired you are. Your long shift and the entirety of this having your eyes feeling heavier than usual.
“Um…” you start, risking a glance at the bed.
Satoru jolts, “Ah- don’t worry, sweetheart. You take the bed.” beginning to saunter outside to meet his team. “Got some work, so I’ll be sleeping in my office. Dream of me~”
And, really, you almost felt bad splaying yourself out on the crisp navy sheets. Sinking into the heady smell of fabric softener, and something so so Satoru. Addictive. Like an expensive cologne that made your head spin, one that wafted through your mind as you dreamt of summer weddings, and blue, blue skies.
“Ichiji.”
“Yes, young master.”
“See to it that the madam is safe. Anyone try anything funny and you bring them back alive. I wanna be the one to play with them, okay~?”
“Of course, young master.”
---
Admittedly, you probably have the best sleep of your life at the Gojo estate- or, it would’ve been if your husband didn’t burst in every morning at 7am. Handing you a ridiculously big bouquet of white roses, straight from the garden, before dragging you outside.
Milling about the estate, Satoru was never too far behind, chattering away. Letting you hold onto his strong arm crossing the bridges, occasionally having you show up to yakuza meetings as his plus one. Relishing in the rumors spreading all through the yakuza syndicates in Tokyo. Gojo Satoru, and the commoner wife he’d do anything for.
Weirdly enough, some strange little part of you thinks he puts in a lot more work than necessary for some pretend relationship…
“I think that stupid plan is really working, y’know.” you muse to him after a few days of this. Dipping your fingers into one of your favorite koi ponds with a nod at the figures watching you from a distance - Gojo clan elders, you assume. “Those old coots hate being within a five mile radius of me.”
Satoru huffs out a laugh, “That so? S’probably the method acting then, huh? Taking good care of me, wifey?” he wiggles his eyebrows, nudging you from where he was holding an umbrella beside you.
Furrowing your brows mockingly, “S’funny for you to say, they don’t even look at me. But they follow me around everywhere.”
“Do they annoy you, must I do my duty as a husband and gouge their eyes out?”
He…didn’t sound like he was joking.
Rolling your eyes, you pointedly ignoring the way your heart lurches at the word “husband.” Still so jumpy at the idea. “Speaking of, your parents give up the marriage proposals, yet?”
At this, Satoru clenches his jaw. “Still nagging, but they’re finally considering you as my actual bride rather than some hijink.” he spits out, seemingly recalling whatever conversation they’d had before. “And they want to have some family ‘dinner’, but it’s going to be awful and you don’t-”
“Let’s go.” you interrupt, nodding determinedly. “The realer this marriage seems, the faster we can divorce, no?”
He blinks at you slowly, “That’s…true. For the divorce, then?”
“For the divorce.”
And, well, that was settled - you were to meet your new in-laws. The ever-elusive heads of the Gojo clan. Also one of the most powerful yakuza in all of Japan, but, semantics really.
You spend the evening cooped up with Satoru in the library, poring over the bloody history of the yakuza - with the Gojo’s heading them all. The only time he actually leaves your side is a few hours before the dinner.
“For you.” he’d murmured, lips ghosting your ear, slipping something cold onto your finger. You look down to see one of the most beautiful rings you’ve ever seen - gold, with delicate blue and white diamonds encrusting it, cut in the shape of roses. “Can’t be married without a wedding ring, huh? Think of it as a good luck charm for tonight.”
And with that he’s swept away in a flurry of bodyguards and ruffled men, and you’re left standing there all alone. Cheeks burning, wondering how the hell he knew your perfect fit.
You worry longer about the dinner than you spend actually preparing for it. Though, that’s probably because of the group of stylists that come into your room to help you dress. Wordlessly fussing around you despite your weak attempts at conversation, eyes averted. Almost like they were…scared of you.
But there wasn’t much time to think of that - not when you’re being marched off in the direction of what you remember Satoru had called the family dining room. “More like a fuckin’ meeting room for those hardasses.” he’d snarked.
The moment you step in, all eyes turn to you - the only ones you recognize being Satoru’s, who immediately stands with a smile. “Ah, wifey! Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” pulling you into a tight hug. His voice drops into a low, raspy murmur in your ear, “Ya look fuckin’ gorgeous in my colors, y’know.”
Traitorously, jolts of electricity run down your spine. Especially at how fucking gorgeous he looked in traditional wear. Whispering back, “Playing up the doting husband bit, huh?”
“Only for you.”
Pulling away, you drink in his dangerously handsome state. Hair so effortlessly styled, tattoos winking at you from just above his yukata - blue, to match yours. So pretty.
Stammering out, “Corny.”
“Only for-”
“Now that the girl is finally here, may we begin with dinner?” A stained voice sounds from behind Satoru, old and tinged with a tone that years of customer service told you did not bode well. Craning your head, you look over his broad shoulders, meeting the eyes of several disapproving elders.
Shit. Some of the most dangerous people in this country right now.
Gathered here - for you.
Automatically, you knew which ones were his parents - painfully upright, and hauntingly beautiful in a cold, calculated way. Sat right at the head of the long table. With a jolt, you realize that you two are seated right opposite them.
“So.” his mother starts, as you take your seat with a bow. Satoru doesn’t waste any time on niceties, plopping down right next to you, scooting closer than necessary. “Congratulations on the…wedding, my son.”
My son. You ignore the way both parents pointedly avoided looking at you. Your husband, however, does not. “What~ Not gonna wish my dear wife as well?”
It’s a silent staredown - one that has the entire room on edge. You don’t realize that you’re clenching your fists in tension until Satoru untangles them, slipping his larger hands into yours. Gaze still alarmingly intense and locked on the other side of the table.
He wins.
“Congratulations. Let us begin now.”
You breathe out a sigh of relief, the tension only slightly broken as butlers stream into the room, carrying decadent trays of food. Well, at least the food might make up for how appalling this dinner is going to be.
It’s only 15 minutes in that you realize how very, horribly wrong you are - because the elders of the Gojo estate really don’t hold back, do they? Thank God you memorized every part of that stupid likes and dislikes list.
Besides picking apart every aspect of your relationship that they could manage to squeeze out of you between the appetizer and the main course, the main scrutiny tonight seems to be you. But in that icy, subtle way that has Satoru’s jaw clenching tighter each second.
Lips curling, Gojo senior eyes you over his wine glass. “So, dear,” voice dripping with underlying venom despite the pet name. “Is it true our Satoru missed an esteemed marriage meeting with the Zenin group to ambush you at some rundown old diner?”
You fight to keep the smile plastered onto your face, painful and cracking under the pressure. A hand squeezing under the table to stop Satoru from opening his mouth to retort, you answer instead, “Well, ambushed wouldn’t be the word. You could say we fell in love over the counter - at my family’s diner.”
“A waitress, she said?”
“Now we know why it was this rushed. Probably pregnant.”
“The scandal. How far the Gojo name has fallen.”
The few stifled gasps from the other end of the table are so dramatic that you could almost laugh. But you don’t. Breath hitching as Mrs. Gojo chuckles, “Marrying the daughter of a lowly diner owner? How... quaint.”
“Mother, be quiet or-”
“What?” she throws her hands in exasperation. “Can’t I say anything around here. Honestly, Satoru, I’m just trying to make conversation with your new wife.”
Before either you or Satoru can react, his father speaks up, apparently not done with the interrogation. “You understand that we’re just worried, right, dear? Especially with marrying into prestigious families, of course.” The emphasis on “prestigious” is not lost on you.” And it drives you insane.
Steeling yourself, you train your eyes on the untouched food below you. “I understand.”
Plowing on as if trying to infuriate you, “And you understand that this position is dangerous? You’ll be targeted.”
“I understand.”
“Do you? Don’t be swept up in our Satoru’s charm and wealth, dear, my son just wants a way out of duty.” tone dripping with disdain, Satoru’s grip becoming tighter and tighter on yours. “The Gojo syndicate owns half of this city, we could bulldoze over that little diner of yours with only one phone call”
“My wife and I are leav-”
“I said I fuckin’ understand.” Your words hang in the air like a foul stench, and you raise your head to glare. If looks could kill, all the elders in this room would be six feet under and you’d be dancing on their graves already. “Neither me, nor my husband would ever let that happen because he knows a thing or two about respect, unlike you.” Lacing your fingers tighter with Satoru’s. “So shove your mighty family up your wrinkly asses. I don’t give a flying shit.”
Eyes wide, jaws dropped, the old couple opposite you finally seems stunned into silence. And if it was any other situation you could’ve almost laughed at how similar they looked to Satoru when he found out you thought his proposal was a prank.
His father adjusts his glasses. “Perhaps that is so.”
Ah, if only the rest of the table would be quietened just as easily.
“Not only is she a slut she’s a-”
Thud!
It all happens so fast you’re not even sure if your eyes are playing tricks on you. Because in a split-second, the knife that was at your side is suddenly embedded, deep into the wooden table - barely even an inch away from the elder that had spoken up.
“You’re lucky I’m matching with my wife n’ didn’t want to dirty this new yukata.” a voice sounds from your side. Melodic and so so eerie that you don’t realize for a second that it’s Satoru - your Satoru.
He loops an arm under your legs as he stands up. Easily maneuvering you into a princess carry, forcing you to cling onto his robes for dear life as your feet dangle from the floor. You look up - maybe to snap at Satoru to put you down - only for the words to die in your throat at how absolutely fucking feral your husband looked. Eyes wide, aura menacing. A grin gracing his features, not the familiar one which had your heart racing, no - something so dangerous and cold.
“Now,” he hums. Turning his back to the room, gaze still locked with the shocked heads inside, “My lovely wife and I will be retiring. Won’t you all say goodnight to your future madam?”
You don’t know what shocks you more - the way everyone in that room mumbles out a disdainful little “Goodnight, ma’am.”, or the way Satoru cackles as he carries you to your shared bedroom. Laying you gently on the mattress with a quiet, “Be right back, sweetheart.”
What the fuck happened?
He could’ve killed that man. And looked like he wanted to.
Your brain yells at you - run away run away run away- But you weren’t…scared? In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever been less fearful in your entire life. Especially not when Satoru stumbles back into the room, clearly rushing. Something warm spreading in your chest at the trays of food in his hands.
“Dinner’s better without a bunch of fossils on my kill list.” he grins. Settling right next to you on the bed, setting out the dinner he’d brought for you. And, well, you didn’t doubt that they really were on his kill list.
“Hey, wifey.” Satoru speaks up after a few moments of silence, satisfied with the food laid in front of you. “M’sorry for putting you through that. No more family dinners from now.”
You inch closer to lay your head on his sculpted shoulder, a hand bringing up the food to his pretty lips. He smelled so good, faintly like pine, and clouds. It made you so dizzy. “Eat, Satoru.”
That’s all which is said, because maybe that’s all that was needed. And for a second there, you almost forget that this is all pretend.
---
“Hey, uh- mister. You alright?” you call out, voice barely audible over the rain.
The sullen figure didn’t react at first, soaked through and eyes trained on the ground. Unmoving, even when you hesitantly drew closer, umbrella quivering in your hands.
You should turn around - walk away like everyone else on the sidewalk was doing. But no, something about the way he sat alone, stoic to the storm around him made you inch closer. “Here.” you hold out your umbrella. “S’our diner’s, but you look like you could use this more than I do.”
He jolts, as if hearing you for the first time. A flash of blue, so quick you almost think you miss it. Still not raising his head fully, the man’s snowy hair tousles as he jerkily closes around the handle. Pretty. And so so sad.
“It’ll be alright.” you nod.
And with that, you turn, running back in the rain to the haven of the diner, where your father was waiting impatiently - he’d just bought the boxes to start packing up for relocation. Fingers still burning ever-so-slightly where his hand had brushed against yours. How strange, you wondered his name.
---
Satoru stayed true to his word over the weeks that followed. His parents seemed well and fully intent on avoiding you. And, well, other than a few disdainful remarks, the elders mostly scurried away in fear at your very sight.
The only thing that made your skin prickle was that the housekeepers had a penchant for peeping in on the two of you. Increasingly following you - they always did, but now…honestly, it was a bit disconcerting.
But other than that, it was almost…peaceful. You wake up every morning to a large bouquet of burgundy roses at your bedside table - and a husband. Because Satoru had taken to sleeping on the little couch at the corner of your room every night - saying something about not wanting to rouse suspicion because if he actually had a wife he’d be “taking her to bed every night”. Somehow, you didn’t doubt it.
“Funny how it’s getting close to a month of being married, but you haven’t even kissed me yet.” you deadpan. Looking down at where he was resting his head in your lap, sprawled across the soft grass in the garden.
Something else also happened - something different.
Because Satoru was a bit touchier, a bit closer. Like right now, preening into your fingers carding through his soft hair. “Oh~? Why, wanna take me to bed, wifey?”
“You wish.”
“Maybe I do.”
Your hands still, pulse racing as your eyes bore into Satoru’s, trying to figure out what sort of bad joke this was. Subconsciously, you find yourself leaning down closer - too closer. Close enough that you could count every shade of blue in his hungry gaze. But by the grace of whoever was above-
“Young master, please excuse the intrusion but you have-”
Sitting up abruptly, addressing the newcomer in a stone-cold tone. “How many fuckin’ times have I not told you to never bother me when I’m with my wife?”
The servant bows apologetically, sputtering out apologies as you move to get up. Flashing a smirk at Satoru’s dramatic pout, “I have to catch up on some reading anyway. See ya, Satoru.”
“Noo~ my sweetheart don’t leave me~”
You stifle a laugh at his little tantrum, so different from when he was serious. He was so….dizzying. “You’ll be okay, Satoru.” Glancing up nervously to meet the servant’s intense stare, studying the scene before him, how different his master was. “I’ll be at the library now.”
And Satoru notices - of course, he does. He sees that tiny flash of concern in your eyes. One that you might not have noticed yourself. He lowers his voice as you walk away, so you don’t hear him speaking behind you. Words dripping with a similar venom he always heard from his parents, “Now, tell me who you’re spying for. Names, first and last.”
Satoru doesn’t join you in the library that day, the first time in weeks. And you find yourself missing him more than you should. It’s dark out by the time you’re raising your head from the books, joints aching from poring over them for hours. The house seems a lot quieter. Somewhat bigger.
Something was wrong. Something was wrong. Something was wrong.
Scratching the back of your head, you wander through the wooden hallways to your bedroom - wondering what was amiss. Your feet take you there as if on autopilot, thankful for Satoru’s meticulous tours.
“Hey,” you smile softly at a servant making your bed, “Where are-”
Your question dies in your throat at the way she yelps at your words, hurrying down the corridor with a jerky bow. Weird. Leaving you all alone, and confused, muttering to yourself, it’s only then that you notice the flash of red by your bedside table.
Not a bouquet. Only a single, red rose - a note tied around the stem, something you’d never gotten before.
“The marriage proposals have been revoked, your contract is fulfilled, my ex-wife.”
Oh, reading that hurt more than it should’ve. You should be happy at being free, a few days earlier than expected at that - but it was over - just like that. You didn’t want to leave him. You didn’t want to leave him.You didn’t want to leave him.
Were you going insane?
Clutching the flower like a lifeline, heaving out a sigh, “Maybe Satoru knows…”
“Thinking of me?”
Startled, you whirl behind to face your husband. In the dim-lighting, making out the stoney expression on his face, eyes wide and a little duller than they had been earlier today.
“Satoru?”
His eyes light up at the mere sound of your voice - then you’re engulfed in him. Wrapping you in his arms, bowing his body into yours, so tight that it almost hurts. But you let him, fisting the fresh yukata in your hands - and that’s when you realize, he’s changed his robes since this morning. “Are you okay?” you whisper into his shoulder. Drinking in the smell of his cologne, and something faintly metallic.
Every cell in your body is screaming at you to take the opportunity - to run away from this yakuza and his slaughter and whatever this was. But how could you? Staying rooted to the spot, not even a speck of fear.
Satoru heaves out a heavy breath, tickling the hairs at your nape as he pulls you impossibly closer. “Those nosy elders won’t be bothering you anymore, sweetheart. You’re free to go.”
A shudder runs down your spine at his words, and you didn’t want to think too hard about what they meant. Instead, you guide him to your bed - and, surprisingly, he allows you to. Letting the two of you sink into the plush mattress. With Satoru still in your arms. He repeats, “You’re free to go.”
Run away. Run away. Run away-
There it was again - that strained little manta. You stare right into his eyes, voice thick at the sinking feeling in your stomach. “My 30 days aren’t over yet.”
“Leave. Please.” he grunts into the crook of your neck, like your hands drawing patterns down his back had broken some dam. “M’not a good man.”
You press your lips to his forehead, searing and a desperate attempt to soothe the man. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.”
“I’m yakuza, sweetheart. Doomed to follow my parents here.” he mutters, strained and voice more unsure than you’ve ever heard. And once he started, it was like Satoru just couldn’t stop, rambling into your skin, “I hate it here, and you should, too. All these fuckin-”
“So go with me instead.”
“What if-”
“Toru.‘ you cut off his words, slurring and spilling out of his mouth. Gently, you pry him away from his little haven, reeling back to take a good look at the face he’s been hiding for so long. Hair mussed, curtaining his whirling eyes - all disheveled and vulnerable where he was once so suave.
Your eyes bore into his, unwavering. “It’ll be alright, Toru.”
And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him. Only when his lips meet yours, soft, and so so sweet, do you realize that this is everything you ever want right now - possibly these past few weeks. “Y’can kill me if you don’ want his.” he mutters into your open mouth.
It’s so desperate - a messy clash of teeth and saliva, Satoru was drinking you in like you were the last drop of water on Earth. He tasted so sweet, like candy almost, and the gentle caress of a lover. You were addicted like you could do this forever and ever and-
And then he’s pulling away. A disappointed little whine leaves you involuntarily as he parts, delicate strings of saliva snapping in the space between you two. Satoru’s mouth drops into a soft oh! at the noise, surging forward minutely like he was about to kiss you senseless again. Only to halt with a pained grunt, just a hair’s breadth from your lips.
“M’sorry.” Claiming your lips once again, like a man possessed. Drinking in your breathless gasps. Like he never wanted to let go. “F-fuck, sweetheart. Y’don’t know how crazy you drive me.” he pants.
“Why did you pick me?” you blurt out, a question that had been nagging at the back of your mind every time Satoru slipped his hand in yours, introducing you as his loving wife. “Was it just the debt?”
He’s kissing your pulse now, canines hovering over the erratic little cadence. Breathing you in like you were intoxicating. “No.” he’s licking a long, languid stripe up your neck. Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down every inch of skin he could reach.
“Then why?” your words come out in almost an embarrassing plea. But by the way his breath hitches, you know that Satoru loves it.
“Because.” he breathes, “You treated me like a human.”
He’s capturing your lips with his again, nipping at your bottom lips. You squeal as he pulls, suddenly wanting him to tease you like this everywhere. To have him absolutely ruin you like you know he could - treat you like the wife he claimed you were.
But Satoru wasn’t done yet - far from it. He chuckles, kissing down your neck, fumbling with the ties of your yukata, “Remember that night? You probably don’t, was rainin’ so hard I thought I’d drown out there.” Worshiping the valley between your breasts as he hastily unbuckles your bra. “That night was when the marriage proposals had come in. They said I’d either carry the legacy or be forced to leave the family. Kicked out of my own home.”
And you’re reeling from both his words and the way Satoru was rocking his hips into yours now, something hot, and so achingly hard pressing in the damp area between your legs. “Thought I was gonna take ‘em all out that night.”
“Take them all out?” your breath hitches.
“Every. Single. One.” Fingers dancing across the hem of your panties. “Wouldn’t have felt bad about it either.”
Satoru’s licking down your navel now, humming in confirmation into your skin. “But then…” he groans, taking in the first fucking sinful sight of your drenched panties. So flimsy and already dripping for him - and after just a few kisses, really? You were heaven on Earth. “But then along came you. So pretty and all worried f’me. The daughter of that diner owner I’d loaned money too.”
You watch, heart racing as Satoru swallows in awe. Darkened gaze locked on the way your slick beads out of your pussy, bare thighs trying to close - give yourself some semblance of dignity. But no- how could you? When Satoru’s holding them apart.
“And then I knew…” he’s sliding his index underneath your panties up and down, grazing your swollen folds. Pooling your sweet sweet juices on his fingertip before popping it into his mouth. Eyes fluttering shut at the taste, and you’ve never seen him look so blissful. “I just had to have you.”
Rip!
The cold air brushes against you before you even know it - only when you feel Satoru’s hot breath against your dripping cunt does it hit - this bastard just ripped your panties off. And he was dangling it like a badge of honor, breathing in your juices so animalistically.
Your lips wobble as he just admires your pussy, the way it glistens and clenches around nothing. “Hah- please.”
“Please what?” he grins, and you can feel him licking little circles around your inner thigh. So close. “The wife of a yakuza boss has gotta know how to use her words.”
“You’re awful.”
“And yet you married me.”
With such a cute lil’ whine that makes Satoru’s cock twitch so painfully, you buck your hips closer to his hot mouth. “Wan’ your mouth on me, to eat me out. Please, Toru.”
He lets out a shuddering breath, “There’s my girl.”
You gasp when he surges forward, burying his pretty face nose-deep in your pussy. Holding your breath as he lazily licks up your folds - long, sloppy movements of his tongue all the way from your base to your swollen clit. Swirling deftly around the sensitive nub.
Drunk off your pussy with the way he’s so messy - seemingly unable to decide between sucking harshly on your poor, ravaged clit to dipping into your sloppy hole. And it’s driving you mad, keening and pulling at his soft locks. You haven’t been touched this good in ages, and Satoru was well and fully intent on ruining you.
“Shhh, don’t worry, wifey.” words muffled into your cunt, “Your husband’s gonna take care of you.” He’s throwing your legs over his broad shoulders.
“Real good care of you.” Then he’s plunging knuckle-deep in your plushy pussy, the tips of his long fingers massaging your plushy walls. Messy enough that your slick is trailing down his wrist. Roaming for that one spot he knows will have you moaning deliciously. Pressing down, hard. “Found it. Gonna have you screamin’ my name til’ the entire estate hears.”
You tug on his hair, urging Satoru’s mouth towards your cunt - partially because you wanted him there, partially because you really needed him to shut up right now.
And shit how could he ever say no to his pretty wife?
Satoru is grinning, you can feel it on your throbbing clit as he wraps his pretty pink lips around it. Pumping his fingers in and out, hitting that little spot each and every time. Looking like he was absolutely in heaven as he rolls and swirls his tongue against your clit over and over and-
“Sh-shit. Toru-”
“Mmm, yes- fuck, love it when you call me that.” he groans. And oh he’s looking at you like he wants to devour you - eyes half-lidded, such a pretty blush disting his cheeks - and making out with your pussy just as much. Tilting his head back, back, back so that your juices slide down his throat. “Feels good? Ya like when m’ruining your pretty pussy?”
“Yes!” you squirm. Shaking, bucking your hips into his touch so desperately. “Wanted it s’bad.”
He’s becoming frenzied now, drinking in your cute little whimpers like he was addicted. But it wasn’t enough - it never was and fuck Satoru wanted more more more-
“Move your hips, yeah- jus’ like that.” Satoru’s grunting and smacking his lips against your own. Letting you pull and angle him just as you please.
“Gonna be the best fuckin’ husband you’ll ever have. N’ anyone that says otherwise, m’gonna fuckin’ kill.” The vibrations have your body jerking violently. “Make you cum harder than y’ever have. C’mon, say yes.”
And with that, he’s alternating between lapping at your clit and bullying his tongue through your swollen folds. Stretching you, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Jaw grinding deeper into you as he eats you out like his last meal. “Ngh- fuck, yes yes yes-”
“Beg for it, beg for your husband.”
“Wanna cum- Ah! Please, wanna cum, Toru.”
One hand so messy toying with your dripping entrance - not having the patience or the sanity to even draw circles anymore. Just quick, hurried patterns to get you off. The other digging into your hips, so hard you were sure it’d leave marks for tomorrow. Making you drag your sloppy pussy senselessly all over his mouth. Using him.
“Hngh- Toru! Ah- fuck fuck Toru Toru T-” You’re shaking - crying out as you cum. A guttural, strangled moan of your husband’s name. So violent, and hard that you don’t even realize at first. Just that you’re rocking your hips into Satoru, white-hot pleasure behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears.
And he doesn’t stop - not even once. If you were in any better state of mind you’d wonder whether it hurt - whether his fingers were cramping up, and his tongue was tired. If they were, he didn’t show, only letting you chase your high as roughly as you want.
Greedily lapping up all your juices. Even when you’re blinking your vision back, chest heaving as you try to regain our breath. “S-Satoru.” you mewl, stars behind your eyes with each flick of his tongue.
“Jus’ a bit more. Wanna taste all of you.”
You weren’t going to make it out alive.
Big, fat tears pricking at your eyes from the overstimulation as Satoru finally rises from what you almost worried would be his favorite seat. “All done. Now, keep that pretty lil’ cunt on display f’me, my girl.”
And your cunt is clenching in- fear? Anticipation? As your husband finally unties his yukata, letting it slide off those milky, toned shoulders. And shit he was such a fucking masterpiece. The dim-lighting bouncing off every curve and dip of those carved abs. Delicate swirls of his tattoo inching from his collarbone, down, down, down, hugging Satoru in a way that made you so half-lucidly jealous. All the way till the last inky thorn meets the neat tufts of white hair peeking up from the hem of his underwear.
“Touch me.” he groans into your ear. The words barely leave those pretty lips before your hands are everywhere. Dancing down his tattoo, groping at this pecs - too much to worship, not enough time.
“Toru…” you trail off, hand reaching out to brush his waistband. Tugging just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Red, and so so angry, fat tip weeping down his length, already so soaked in precum. He was so intimidatingly long - longer than anyone else you’d had before. Thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself.
And he sees right through you.
“Now now, none of that.” he tuts, pushing your bare thighs as far apart as they’d go. He spreads your cunt so shamefully with his thumb. Spitting once, twice. Some of it splatter against your thigh as Satoru mixes his saliva with your slick. “Don’t worry, wifey, m’gonna make it feel good for ya.”
You flinch as he uses you like some object. Dangerously liking it more and more as he drags his fat head down your folds. Wetting himself, all the preparation he was going to give you because fuck Satoru needed to be inside your pretty lil’ pussy right now.
Then you feel like you’re being split apart - as if Satoru’s cock was pushing all the way to your lungs as he presses through the first ring of muscle.
“Ah! Ngh- Toru, s’too big!” you yelp, eyes locked on the way your lips were stretched so lewdly around his tip. Clamping and quivering as he keeps pushing in, inch by fucking inch. No mercy. Absolutely none at all.
And while he sounded like he was on cloud nine, you were having your head spin, torn between wanting to run away from his massive cock and just push yourself down for more more more. His lips claim yours - absolutely animalistic because God he needed to shut up your pretty whines or else Satoru was going to cum right here right now.
“Breathe, sweetheart, breath. Ngh- You can take it.” Satoru pants into your mouth, fucking into you in mindless, shallow little thrusts just to fit inside your snug cunt. Sounding like he was losing his sanity each time your heavenly walls milked him. “So fuckin’ tight. Jus’ relax f’me. Oh yeah, jus’ like that. You can take it you can-”
You gasp for air when he finally bottoms out inside you, tears streaming down your face and clawing at his back.
Satoru only coos, letting you mark him up all you want. Pace increasing relentlessly, “Aww, my good lil’ wife. Taking me so well, huh?” Starting to rock his hips just a bit faster into yours, “Always knew y’would.”
“Can y’feel me, right-.” Balls smacking against your ass, his finger tracing an invisible line halfway down your tummy. “-here?” Thumb stroking where he could feel himself bulging inside you, pressing down. Hard.
You almost sob at the pressure, jolting - you should’ve expected that the yakuza boss would fuck so mean.
And shit you can just do nothing but take it, hips jerking wildly as Satoru pounds into you with reckless abandon. Clutching at his shoulders, the sheets, his hair - just anything.
“C’mon~ Don’t run away from me,” he grunts, strained like he’s struggling to maintain restraint. Lacing his fingers on top of your head to slide you impossibly deeper onto his cock. “Jus’ fuckin’ got you, so don’t you dare run away.”
You can only nod. Eyes glazed, cockdrunk and letting him thrust so sloppily. “Won’t run away Toru…” you babble, “Wan’ you to make me yours.”
“Mine? Gonna be all mine?”
“All yours, Toru.”
And maybe you were an idiot, maybe you were a mastermind - because with a choked out little moan of what sounded like your name, Satoru’s pulling you both to sit up. The gravity makes you bury his cock deeper and faster into your tight pussy.
With the new angle, your husband’s hitting all the right spots easily, almost as if he knew your body better than you did. Veins rubbing so deliciously against your walls, shifting around your hips to fuck up into that poor, abused spot.
“Ya like this, huh?” he groans, fingers now toying with your ravaged clit. Rolling it around harshly between two fingers. “Always knew this cute pussy could take me s’well. Just didn’t know it would feel this fucking heavenly.”
Faster, sloppier. Bouncing you on his rock-hard cock like he was claiming you from the inside. So, so desperate and debauched.
And exactly where you wanted to be.
You leave delicate pink bites down this pale neck, alongside those roses - marking him in your own way as you edge closer and closer. It was too much. Everything was too much.
“Toru-” you sob. And he already knew what that meant. With how your voice breaks so adorably and the way you’re clenching around him hard enough that it’s almost difficult to ruin that cute pussy.
“Close?”
“Mhm…”
“Well then.” thrusts getting sloppy, with no reason or rhythm now. Grip on your body tightening like a vice. “Cum f’me like a good lil’ wife, then.”
And that makes you throw your head back in ecstasy - it makes you cum. Thighs quivering, jolts of electricity running down all the way from your overstimulated cunt to your hazy mind. It has you chanting Satoru’s name like a lifeline while his teeth dig into your flesh. Hard enough that you distinctly wondered whether he was out for blood.
Letting out low, muffled moans into your neck while he cums as well. Hot ropes of seed filling up your poor, bloated pussy, painting your walls such a sinful white. Cumming and cumming so hard you wondered whether you’d make it out alive.
And because of the obscene position, you could feel the way it dribbled down your legs. Thick globs landing in a pool on the overpriced sheets below, smearing so lewdly between you two. Hips still fucking up into you - not even thinking about it as he pushes his seed deeper and deeper.
You managed to raise your eyes, still dazed to meet his - exhausted, and dark with lust and something else that you really weren’t in the right mind to decipher right now.
And then Satoru’s lips find yours again, biting and tugging lazily. Tasting so unfairly of candy and sweet, sweet trouble. Body melting into you like all the worries have been lifted from his shoulders. He’s looping his arms tighter around your waist, crushing you into an almost-painful hug against him.
Something soft. Something new. Something that makes a little part of your heart twinge to break the kiss and pull away mere millimeters. “We better not divorce after this.”
“Of course not.” He chuckles into your lips, resting his forehead against yours like he was trying to map the constellations in your eyes. “I haven’t even given you my wedding gift yet.”
Smirking, you lock your legs tighter around Satoru’s toned waist as he lets the two of you fall back into the mattress. Sinking into it - and each other - with both exhaustion and something of a quiet, unspoken little fondness. Batting your lashes up at him, “Mhm, I remember someone talking about giving me four mercedes as a wedding gift and I’m leaving if not.”
“Well then, better get to it. Four for my in-laws to get on their good side, too,” he nuzzles the bite mark on your neck. “Because I plan to stay like this for a long, long time.”
A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.
#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#tonywrites
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Darlin' pt 6
pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3 / pt 4 / pt 5 / pt 7 (SMUT)
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (Romance)
Description: Cooper and Reader feel the effects of the radiation.
Notes: My tags are still goofy I don't know what is going on I am sorry. When I am writing the post your profile comes up and I click on it but then when I post it it doesn't work? Help? You guys may have to just keep an eye on my posts. :(
Cooper still hasn't told us where he is taking us yet. The sun seemed to get extra hot as the day went on. I knew the irradiation of the river was starting to hit me, just like it was the vaultie. We both had sunken, dark eyes and pale skin. Radiation sickness was starting to set in. Cooper made sure I stayed close to him, his eyes only leaving me to bark at the vaultie when she slowed.
"This damn sun," I whined.
Without saying a word, Cooper took off his hat and dropped it on my head. I smiled ear to ear, the idea of wearing his hat filling me with joy. "Thanks, Coop."
His footsteps stuttered at the nickname. Little did I know, it brought back a flood of memories that were long forgotten. "Just don't lose it, darlin'." He mumbled.
The show of affection filled me with a burst of energy, adding some pep to my step as we trekked along in the sand. Eventually, we happened upon a small, derelict town. The old homes were covered almost half up their sides with sand. The houses now were all the same tan color as the ground, a reminder of the harshness of the wastelands. We walked up to a building with "Westside Medical Clinic" written on a big sign out front. As soon as we stopped walking we heard it. The yelling.
"Roger! My name... is Roger!" A voice roared from inside the building.
The three of us exchanged looks before Cooper pushed the vaultie towards the door, making her go first. "Stay behind me, sugar." He said quietly to me.
We slowly continued into the building as the snarling grew closer. The vaultie hesitated, not wanting to get any closer to the danger inside. This caused Cooper to give her another harsh shove. The fear swirling in my stomach made me feel like I was going to throw up. I grabbed onto the back of Cooper's coat for purchase. We finally made our way into the room where the voice was coming from. A man, or a ghoul, was sitting in the sand, mumbling and snarling.
"Hey Rog," Cooper greets him.
"Hey. Hey." the man laughs, relieved to see his friend. "Fancy seeing you here. You out for that bounty, too, huh?"
"Yep," Cooper responds as he knelt in front of his friend.
You all stand there in silence for a bit, listening to Roger snarl and whip his head around.
"Oh, shit," Roger says between wails.
"How you feelin’?" Cooper asks quietly, already knowing the answer.
"Oh... you know," Roger replied. "It's hard out here. Dang smoothies can be so unkind. I see you got some smoothies of your own." He says as he looks over at the vaultie and me in the corner. "That one is cute with your hat on."
I give him a small smile as a blush warms my cheeks. "You like it? I'm thinking of keeping it." I say, trying to lighten the mood.
Roger lets out a gleeful laugh, "Oh, I hope she rubs off on you. Keep her around."
Cooper smiles in response, "Plan on it."
Roger cried out again, ripping the smiles off everyone's faces.
"You're turning," Cooper says reluctantly, he exchanges a worried look with you.
"Yeah maybe, maybe." Roger says on the verge of tears, "Maybe. Hey, you don't happen to have any vials, do you? Just one little puff and I'll be back on my feet. You know I'm good for it." Roger pleaded.
"I'm sorry Roger I am all out," Cooper says, looking sorrowful.
"That's okay. That's okay." Roger mumbles. "Though, um, you and your smooth-faced friends, you um... you might want to clear out before things get ugly."
Roger started to snarl again, he was growing louder and louder. It was horrible to watch. "Is this what will happen to Cooper?" I thought to myself.
"I did okay. 28 years since I first started showing," Roger said, before snarling again. "Oh, hell! Not as long as you are though." He pointed proudly at Cooper, "You've outlasted us all. How long since you first started wastelanding?"
"A long time," Cooper responds while shaking his head.
"That's a lot of vials," Roger said quietly.
"Well I've always been good at making money, Roger." Cooper exhales as he stands up. "Say, you remember how good food used to taste?"
"Yeah, BlamCo Mac and Cheese!" Roger says excitedly.
"Ice Cream and Apple Pie." Cooper countered.
"Hot damn! Apple Pie." Roger said, joy lighting up his face, even making the vaultie smile. "You know my mother used to-"
Before he could finish, Cooper shot Roger threw the head with no warning. I stumbled back in shock, tripping and falling on my butt and landing in the sand.
"Why did you do that?" The vaultie asked with tears in her eyes. "He was sick."
Cooper ignores her and starts making his way toward me while he holsters his gun. My eyes were glued to the man, lifeless on the ground.
"Darlin'." Cooper says pulling me from my thoughts and he crouches in front of me.
I look up at him with weeping eyes. "He...." I trailed off. I didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry," I whispered as the tears started to fall down to my chest.
"Don't be sorry, darlin'. Can you do something for me?" He asked calmly.
"Yeah." I managed to respond between sniffles.
"Wait in the hallway." He replies, rubbing my shoulder reassuringly. I give him a confused look before he starts talking again, "I don't want you to see this."
Realization washes over me. "You gonna eat him?"
"Just - just wait in the hallway." He says as he pulls me up to my feet. "Okay?"
"Okay," I mumble as I slowly make my way out of the room. I lean up against the wall and close my eyes. It's only a minute before I hear the vaultie begging.
"Stop. Stop Stop." The vaultie pleaded, "Please, I know it's hard out here but you don't, you don't have, you don't have to resort to... to..."
"What'd you say your name was?" Cooper asks her.
"Lucy MacLean." The vaultie replies hesitantly.
"MacLean?" Cooper asks a hint of recognition in his voice. "Huh. Well, Lucy MacLean, it ain't all peaches and marmalade left up here, sweetheart. Sometimes a fella gotta eat another fella."
Even from the hallway, I could hear the squishing from whatever he was doing in there. I felt nausea settle into my stomach, whether from the radiation or what Cooper was doing in the other room, I didn't know.
"You know, my vault has endured hardship too," Lucy said, pushing back. In the great plague of '77, everyone had to quarantine, they couldn't work the farms together, people starved. My mother included. My dad dropped to 128 pounds, and he still refused to do anything like this."
Cooper let out a deep chuckle at her words.
"What? What's so funny?" She asked, her voice dripping with venom.
"Well, there's what people say they did and what they really did." Cooper said, his accusation heavy in the air. "I'll bet your daddy was first in line at the cookout. I bet he had a bib with a drawing of his neighbor's ass on there."
"How do you live like this?" Lucy asks. "You obviously know it's wrong you sent her to the other room. So how do you do it? Why keep going?"
I open my eyes slowly at the mention of me. I didn't know if I could ever live like that, so Lucy's question piqued my interest as well. There was a heavy silence as I heard Cooper's footsteps making his way across the room.
"Well, one good question deserves another," Cooper responds, his voice was dark, sending a shiver down my spine. "Why the fuck am I doin' all the work? Now come on vaultie, ass jerky don't make itself."
This was a side of Cooper that I had not seen since the night we met. Ruthless. Cruel. It made me wonder was this who he really was. Or was the sweetness he has shown me his true self? It was probably a little bit of both. The silence in the building was deafening. It was a moment before I heard Lucy's soft footsteps in the sand.
"She is actually gonna do it." I thought to myself in horror, letting out a soft gasp.
Once they made their way out of the room, Lucy's hands were covered in blood and she had an empty expression on her face. She was clearly traumatized by what she had to do to Roger. Cooper didn't look at me as they made their way past. "Come on, darlin'."
-
It felt like forever since the incident with Roger, but it was hard to forget as his skin hung from Cooper's pack. The three of us hiked in silence, tension had returned to Cooper and me as neither of us knew what to say to the other. Cooper had started coughing some time ago. This filled me with dread, we needed to get him some Jet fast. Let alone, myself. I was getting sicker by the minute as I struggled with the poisoning from the river. My feet dragged in the sand behind Cooper as I struggled to keep up.
Cooper dipped his canteen into some water pooled in an old barrel. My chest filled with jealousy. I ran out of water some time ago and the lack of food and water was becoming painful. He made eye contact with Lucy as she watched him drink. This wasn't the first time he had teased her about her lack of water. Desperate for a sip, she fell to her knees in front of the water, scooping it into her mouth.
"Now you're gettin' it." Cooper mused as he watched her. "How does that golden rule jibe with what's goin' through your head right now?"
"What are you?" Lucy asked angrily.
"Oh I'm you, sweetie, just give it a little time." He responded.
"Because of the radiation poisoning?" I asked, my voice cracking from dehydration.
Cooper turned to me with a serious look on his face, "Not gonna happen to you darlin'."
I gave him a small nod before I squeaked out, "Okay." I trusted him completely.
As a coughing fit took over the ghoul, Lucy took her chance to make a run for it. I was torn between chasing after her and staying to comfort Cooper. Cooper started waving after her, signaling for me to chase her.
"Hey! Stop!" I yelled as I ran after her.
As we rounded the corner, she stopped to stare at the huge crater in the ground. I ran up next to her as I also marveled at the sight. I had never seen anything like that before. Suddenly, Cooper's lasso secured itself around Lucy's midsection as he pulled her down onto the ground.
"Where you think you're goin'? You ain't goin' nowhere." Cooper said as he stepped over her, leaning down to grab her face.
Lucy immediately responded by biting onto his finger and ripping it off with her teeth.
"Oh my god?!" I gasped out as I ran toward them. "Cooper."
He continued to keep his attention on Lucy. "There you are, you little killer." He said as he lifted her to her feet before grabbing ahold of her matching finger and cutting it off with his knife. "Now that right there is the closest thing to an honest exchange that we've had so far." He pocketed her finger before reaching down to pick up his own. "Here darlin'," He said as he handed me the rope that was tied to Lucy.
I hesitantly took it as I watched him rummage around in his pack for a small rag to wrap his finger in.
"You don't hurt, right?" I asked him.
"Don't feel a thing, sugar." He said smiling as he took the rope back from me.
This exchange seemed to have depleted Lucy's resolve completely as she quietly obeyed from there on out. It wasn't long after that that we reached an old building with the word SuperDuperMart written on it. It was surrounded by a broken-down fence and had some old cars in the front of the building. I was nervous, but Cooper's confidence calmed me as we approached the building.
"Transaction," Cooper said as he pressed on some sort of communication device. He threw his bag into the dirt next to him. He looked tired.
"Yes?" Someone responded.
"Two month's supply of vials. Exchange one female mint condition." He stated before looking over at Lucy's hand, "Near mint condition."
"Condition grading requires physical evaluation. Please send her in." The voice responded, there was something strange about the voice that I couldn't recognize. It almost didn't sound human.
The door to the building buzzes and slowly opens. Lucy watched it with concern evident in her eyes, "What's in there?" She asked.
"You're about to find out," Cooper replies as he cuts the rope that bound her wrists.
"You're selling me?" Lucy asks, a look of disbelief on her face.
Cooper pulls a gun from his hip and cocks it, "You got problems out here too, sweetheart. Best you try your luck behind that door. Go on." He says as he shoves her.
I watch on from behind Cooper as Lucy shuffles her way into the building, giving a nervous look back before she enters.
Once she enters, Cooper deflates. He was obviously putting on a show for her. Pretending he wasn't as sick as he really was. "Y/n?"
"Cooper?" I ask breathlessly.
Instead of responding, the ghoul collapsed.
"Cooper!" I yell out as I shake him. His eyes are open and he's still awake but for some reason, he was not able to move.
I pushed the button he was using to communicate with the man inside the building. "He can't wait he needs it now!" Only to get no response. "We will give you another person! A female near mint conditon." I say, describing myself.
Cooper whispered out, "No." I could barely hear him.
I crouch down next to him and place his hat next to him, "It's my turn to take care of you." I declared, giving him a sad smile.
I took his gun and tried to shoot the door to break it. I had never used a gun before, so it took me a minute or two to figure out. The glass, however, appeared to be bulletproof.
"Shit," I mumbled before placing the gun on the ground.
I then decided to try and pry the door open with no such luck. I run between the cars around us, searching for anything I can use to open the door. In one of them, I find a crowbar. "Yes!" I yell happily as I run back to the door. I wrestled with it for a while before I finally was able to get the crowbar inside, finally, I had some progress. I yelled out in frustration as I tried to open the door. It was the heaviest thing I have ever felt in my life. Moving it just an inch took more strength than I had, especially in my state.
After a couple minutes of struggling, I collapsed to the ground in exhaustion. I looked over at Cooper only to see he hadn't loved an inch. "Cooper?" I call out as I crawl towards him. I sit next to him and gently lift his head onto my lap, rolling him onto his back. "You'll be okay," I say quietly before looking up at the door. I was hoping that soon they would come out to give him the vials he was owed. The silence felt like it had been going on forever when there were suddenly gunshots coming from inside the building. I help Cooper a little closer, afraid and confused. I grabbed his gun again and held it close to my side.
"I've got you, Coop," I whispered to him.
The building then went silent again. There was a moment before Lucy strolled out the door, covered in blood.
"Lucy? What happened?" I gasp.
"They were going to harvest my fucking organs!" She yelled angrily as she sauntered over to us.
I shakily hold up my gun, causing her to stop in her tracks.
"He doesn't get these, he turns into one of those? That how it works?" She asked, holding up a couple vials.
I lower the gun and start begging. "Please, Lucy."
She crouches down next to him and contemplates for a moment before saying to Cooper, "I may end up looking like you... but I'll never be like you." Before getting up, she gently puts some vials in my hand. "Golden rule, motherfuckers."
"Thank you! Thank you so much!" I cry out happily as I start rummaging through Cooper's pockets searching for his inhaler. "I've got you, I've got you.." I kept repeating as I shakily put the vial in the inhaler and hold it up to his mouth. It takes a couple tries, but ultimately, he gets ahold of it and breathed in the contents. I make a happy squeak as he starts to move again.
He lets out a soft wheeze before saying 'Why the hell would you do that?"
"What?" I asked him confused.
"You were going to fucking sell yourself? For me?" He states angrily as he sits up to a sitting position.
"Well-" I start.
"Well, nothing. Never do that again." He shouts as he stands, pulling me up by my collar. The fear on my face softened him as he released my shirt with a sigh, "I ain't worth it, darlin'."
"You are to me," I say quietly. "You are never getting rid of me."
He lets out a small laugh as he smiles wearily, his resolve dimishing. "You are way too good for me, sugar."
"Well too bad, Cooper. You've got me." I say as kiss him on the cheek.
Just as I was pulling away he grabbed hold of my hip "Come here." He says as his lips crash into mine.
I let out a squeak in surprise before I started to return the kiss. It was sloppy and heated, filled with pent-up emotions. It was everything I wanted.
Tag list: @msrawog @valdemarismynonbinarylove @topiramategreeable @whizbang-cap @sitkafay @lightan117 @eykismyfav @ajeff855 @madelinealexandra @justme12200 @sihlaryn @raviolisenpai @ellabellabunny123 @impossessedbyjeongyeon @leviathanleva @v3lv3tf0x @judgementdays-girl @savanahc @booksbabes @gauky76 @green--beanie
#cooper howard#the ghoul fallout#cooper howard x reader#the ghoul x reader#fallout tv series#fallout
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Do you think you could write some hcs about HSR men comforting reader who woke up from a nightmare?
Bonus if the source of the nightmare was Silver Wolf telling scary stories.
Argenti
Would immediately wake up the moment he senses that your sleep was being disturbed.
‘My sweet, what’s troubling you?’ He’d ask you, his eyes shone with concern.
‘Just got spooked by the story Silver Wolf told last night.’ You tell him.
‘Aww my beloved rose.’ He coos softly.
‘I know it’s stupid.’ You scoffed.
‘Oh no, not at all.’ He replied as he scooted himself closer to you and brought his hands up to hold your face and used his finger pads to caress your skin soothingly.
‘It’s okay to be scared for it is a reaction shared amongst all beings, but you should never feel such a way when I’m here to keep you safe.’ Argenti said as he presses his forehead to yours and began to hum a sweet, tender melody that swiftly had you drifting off back sleep within seconds.
‘Goodnight my beloved rose.’ He whispered after performing his song, pressing a kiss to your forehand and followed you in the dream realm where he could continue protecting you.
Welt
When Welt saw you had woken yourself from a nightmare and were obviously still reeling from the effects, he would wordlessly bring you into his arms slowly enough as not to frighten you and have you rest your head against his chest.
‘Are you comfortable in telling me what happened?’ He asks barely above a whisper.
‘It’s stupid.’ You replied, voice muffled from the way your face was pressed against his chest.
‘Not if it’s got you frightened this badly.’ He says against your head, his hands rubbing up and down your back soothingly.
‘It was the story Silver Wolf told last night.’ You finally tell him after debating on it for a bit.
‘It was truly a well put together story,’ Welt began as he recalled the events of last night and how tense you were the entire time, ‘I must admit I was slightly taken aback at times.’
You raised your head from his chest to look him in his warm eyes. ‘You were scared too?’ You asked.
‘Kind of.’ Welt chuckles as he brought your head back to his chest and press several kisses to your forehead. ‘Now if I’m allowed, I would like to tell you a story of my own. I must preference this beforehand that it’s not a well written one, but I hope it brings you comfort regardless.’
‘Please.’ You pleaded as you burrowed yourself further against his chest, practically clinging on to him. ‘Anything you say is better than nothing.’ You added.
‘Very well then.’ Welt cleared his throat. ‘There once was a young lady with vibrantly pink hair who had an…habit of wandering into places she probably shouldn’t have. This is merely one story out of many, many, many others…’
Blade
Is an extremely light sleeper, so any movement you made was picked up almost immeditly and he was more than ready to grab his sword when he felt your breath hitch in your throat.
He genuinely thought you were in danger, only to find out you had just woken up from a nightmare.
‘What’s wrong.’ He’d ask gruffly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
‘Nothing.’ You replied.
‘Bullshit.’ He scoffs.
‘Fine it was the scary story Silver Wolf told.’ You admitted and Blade raised a brow.
‘You do know none of it’s real right?’ He then asks while biting back a yawn.
‘Yeah no shit but that doesn’t stop the fact that it really freaked me the fuck out.’ You told him as you looked away from him, knowing you weren’t going to get much comfort out of him, seeing as how he’s never known a day of it.
Blade sighed when you showed him your back, knowing you were expecting to be comforted, as he then shuffles himself behind you and puts his arms over your waist all the while caging you against his chest.
‘Nothings going to get you, I won’t allow it.’ He reminds you as he burrows his face into your neck. ‘So there’s no need to be afraid when I’m here and am willing to put body on the line if it meant you sleeping soundly. What’s a few new scars compared to the old.’ He adds as he kept his eyes locked onto the door to the bedroom for a while, just long enough for you to comfortably go back to sleep before following soon after.
#hsr imagines#hsr imagine#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail#Honkai star rail imagine#Honkai star rail imagines#welt yang imagines#welt yang imagine#welt yang x reader#welt x reader#argenti x reader#Argenti imagine#Argenti imagines#blade imagines#blade imagine#blade x reader#hsr blade x reader#hsr blade x you#hsr argenti x reader#hsr welt x reader
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"They shouldn't make Durgetash canon, it should stay vague!"
Meanwhile what we know of Durge is:
- He's wearing matching clothes with Enver (OG Deafult Sorc Robes and Enver's fancy ass grab)
- Their weapons are matching (Stillmaker and Arbalist)
The only canonically written religious text to Bhaal is defining The Cult Leader's sin as "Cannot help but admire the chosen of your sworn foe Enver Gortash", sees the future "through Gortash's brilliant plan" (wasn't the entire "created by Bhaal" thing enough to see your future purpose, Urge?) and refers to the Dead Three's cooperation as "bosom friends", before proceeding to make excuses as to why Durge needs to delay their murder. For a very important reason of... we need to take over the world I will murder anyways first!
Orin keeps referring to their interactions with Enver is downright obscene and intended to shame you. (That's a sister slandering her siblings on-again-off-again ex if I saw one) Despite the fact that she doesn't want you to remember shit! She doesn't want you to know shit!
Please stop talking about sucking and knotting, Orin.
And that's all aside from The Archduke of Baldurs Gate running down the stairs like an excited teenager to keep talking how you're his Nearest and Dearest, Dear Prince, how Brilliant you are, while exhibiting the most severe case of Boba Eyes in game, that made his entire 20-mins of screen time in game to be rerecorded completely for that one instance.
Sure, we might have multiple checks assuring us he is not lying and he is a lawful evil guy but hey, maybe he's just too good for the game itself and actually love-bombs a potentially dangerous amnesiac into (checks notes)swearing "A divine Oath in spirit and flesh" for his own safety.
And people will still come out and call it vague?
The only vague thing about them is the timeline
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Is It Over Now? (12)
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Aemma Velaryon
Summary: You drew up some good faith treaties
Warnings: canon typical Targaryen incest. Developing Stockholm Syndrome, Aemma is becoming an unreliable narrator.
Tag list: @callsignwidow
Aemond is gone, but Vhagar returns after two days time, reuniting with Vermithor. Their happy roars echo across King's Landing and it fills your heart with a bittersweet emotion you can't quite name. Is Aemond thinking of you at all in Harrenhal? You know you're thinking of him. Constantly. The smell of him lingers on the bed sheet, on your clothes, and on your skin, fading with each passing day. You feel uneasy without your husband around.
On the third day of his absence a letter arrives strapped to Vhagar's saddle. It's a letter from Aemond, written in High Valyrian. He tells you about Daemon's attempted siege and how Harrenhal withstood it all. He tells you how House Strong no longer stands, their ancestral home now belonging to him. He tells you about a woman. Alys Rivers. She's a supposed bastard of Lyonel Strong, older than Harwin and Larys, but he's taken her as a prisoner of war.
It doesn't sit right with you, the way he talks about this woman. His tone is almost... love sick.
He tells you that you would like her, and you decide to be the judge of that.
Getting out of the Keep won't be simple. None of the guards will allow you to just walk out the front gate... plus, you're certain Aegon himself is still keeping an eye on you. All of your secret tunnels are gone, sealed up by Aemond weeks ago. So, what's left? How can you escape?
Vermithor's loud roar reverberates through the Keep and you dash to the window of your bedchamber. He soars through the sky, dancing along with Vhagar in graceful arches. You let out a low pitched whistle and his head turns in your direction, mighty wings changing his path mid-swoop. Before you can question yourself, you climb on the window ledge and jump, hoping Vermithor understands what you need him to do.
The months the two of you spent apart melt into nothing as you crash on his large back, quiet understanding passing between dragon and rider. Vhagar comes up on your left. Her eyes are old and knowing as she dips her head towards you and takes the lead. You aren't sure which direction Harrenhal is, but both dragons seem to understand what it is you need.
Who it is you need.
Harrenhal is not a pleasant place by any stretch of the imagination. Death seems to linger in the very air, pressing down on your chest and making you want to run and hide. You don't though. You dismount Vermithor with your head held high, already missing the warmth and familiarity of him. He remains as close to you as he can, head swinging back and forth as if waiting for an ambush.
"Easy," you tell him with a gentle pat. "Stay with Vhagar. You'll keep each other safe."
Vermithor huffs at you, smoke billowing from his nostrils. He'll listen only until he senses you're in danger.
As you enter what remains of Harrenhal, you're greeted by Aegon and Aemond's soldiers. Each one bows to you with sheepish expressions. It's as if they know something you don't.
"Where is my husband?" Your gaze flits from soldier to soldier, none of them willing to speak up. "Well?"
"The Great Hall. m'lady," one finally says.
You march past the soldiers, eyes fixed firmly ahead, tuning out the whispers of the men as you leave. Tears sting your eyes but you won’t allow yourself to be humiliated further by crying in front of them. Any of them. Your cheat of a husband included. Because why else would the soldiers stare at you with such pity? Why else would they whisper behind your back? Aemond is fucking the Rivers woman.
There’s simply no other explanation.
“Aemond,” you call out as you enter the Great Hall.
Before you see him you hear a feminine giggle and the soft rumbling of Aemond’s voice.
“Clearly I need to make my presence better known, husband.” Your shoulders tense and you tilt your chin higher as you take in the sight before you. “It seems I took your men off guard… as well as you.”
Aemond doesn’t move from his seat at the head of the high table, doesn’t move to put Alys Rivers off his lap, doesn’t look at you with anything less than anger. In fact, if it weren’t for the rise and fall of his chest you could almost believe the shock of seeing you sent him into the arms of the Stranger.
“Aemma,” he finally breathes out your name, shoving Alys to the side. “Why are you here? How are you here? Aegon should’ve had you under lock and key.”
“It seems the bond between dragons is stronger than we all thought.” You give him a non answer. “Did you know Vhagar has been coming to see Vermithor since you departed? She led us here, the smart girl. I wonder what she wanted me to find?”
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“And you shouldn’t be fucking a woman who isn’t your wife! You despise your brother for the very thing you’re now doing. So what is it, Aemond? Are you the honorable man I’ve always cared for or are you a liar no better than his brother?”
Aemond’s violet gaze seems to pierce your soul as he stalks toward you. “Right now I’m a man worried for his wife’s safety. What do you think will happen when they find you missing at the Keep?”
“What do you think will happen when I tell your mother her favorite son is no different than her eldest?” You don’t know why you’re saying these things. All you know is that you want Aemond to hurt. You want to hurt him.
He takes a deep breath, eyes shutting briefly. “You don’t understand what’s happening here. We need Alys-“
“Oh, we do? I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware we needed someone to keep your bed warm while-“
“Leave!”
But his order isn’t directed at you. Instead, Alys (who had been listening very intently to the conversation) offers a quick curtesy and leaves the Great Hall. You stand completely still and quiet, waiting for the swish of her skirts to disappear completely. Once it does you turn back to Aemond who still wears a thunderous expression.
You clear your throat. “I’ll give you one minute to explain what I saw and what your grand plan seems to be.”
“And after I explain?”
“I… haven’t decided. We’ll see once you explain.” Part of you is ready to go back to Vermithor and not even wait for an explanation. It’s the same part of you that is vaguely considering running back into Aegon’s arms. But you won’t do either of those things until Aemond has a chance to explain.
Aemond nods as if reading your mind. “There are whisper that Alys Rivers is a witch with a penchant for seeing the future. We need her. Having her power on our side could end the war tomorrow.”
“End the war… and in this plan, does my mother come out of the war alive?”
“That depends on what Alys sees.”
“You’re giving this strange woman a lot of power and importance.”
Aemond sighs, wrapping his arms around your waist. “It’s a command from the King. I’m to keep her happy and ensure her loyalty.”
“So she gets to sit on your lap and play the part of a princess while I’m locked away?”
His smile is wry when he says, “you don’t currently appear to be locked away.”
You don’t respond to his attempt at levity. “I don’t like this, Aemond.”
“I know. I know. Just trust me, please. Alys will never compare to you.”
You aren’t sure if you believe him, but for now you’ll leave the matter alone.
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hello, i hope you’re doing well <3 im not sure if you do platonic yanderes but.. i saw another blog that did it and i thought the idea of yandere kurapika with a little sister would be so cute ><
Yandere!Kurapika and his little sister
!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!
warnings: possessive and obsessive behavior, Kurapika is traumatized and he doesn’t want to lose you, he’s very guilty about leaving you alone before :(
A/N: this is completely platonic so please don’t be weird. I’ve never really written for sibling!reader but I hope y’all like it!
HXH Yandere SFW taglist: @lightshowerrr @jungtoast @nenggie @pannacottababy @aliceattheart @atransmuter
‼️If you want to be added to the taglist, please check out the taglist information then comment what you want to be added to! Make sure you have your age in your bio and that your blog can be tagged/mentioned!‼️
Kurapika had always been the protective type, even when he was just a tiny tot, so when he learned he was going to be a big brother, his world was turned upside down.
Unlike most children, Kurapika felt no unease or jealousy for the arrival of his new little sister. He only felt a strong urge to protect her from the world, to be the big brother he was supposed to be.
When you were born, it felt like his family truly became complete. Your cute, chubby little cheeks and tiny hands fascinated him, he absolutely adored you from the start.
Despite him being quite young as well, he held and carried you as much as he was able. His mother and father worried slightly, but Kurapika was a fast learner. He knew when you were hungry and needed a diaper change just by the different ways you cried. He was truly a big brother!
As the years went by, he always kept a close eye on you. You were a little bit of a clingy cry baby, fussing any time your beloved big brother wasn’t near. He didn’t mind, though. Kurapika was supposed to take care of you and stay by your side, so he never minded comforting you.
He felt a little bad when he left the clan for his test with Pairo. You begged him to take you instead, but Kurapika was 12 and you were just 7. Although he wanted to believe the outside world was less dangerous than the elders wanted him to believe, he couldn’t bear the thought of you being injured if he brought you with him.
“Shh… shh…”
You clung to him, crying into his tabard as he tried his best to soothe you. “Don’t cry, (Name). I’ll be back by the end of the day. There’s no need to fuss.”
He wiped away your tears, his heart aching to see the scarlet in your eyes. You truly loved your big brother, and hated the idea of being separated from him.
“P-please take me, Pika! I don’t wanna… I don’t wanna be left behind!”
Kurapika gently cupped your chubby little cheeks. You were so small, just a little girl, he couldn’t dream of taking you to the outside world.
“I can’t, (Name). Please, be a good girl. I promise, if I pass I’ll take you with me, okay?”
You sniffled, your little hand clinging to his sleeve. “Okay… and promise you’ll always stay with me!”
Kurapika smiled, pushing back your hair to kiss your forehead. “I promise. Now, go help mama with lunch, okay? I’ll be back by dinner time.”
When Kurapika got back… he was a little different. He was still the big brother you looked up to and adored, but… he had seen and experienced things that changed his outlook on the outside world.
He was still determined to go out and see the world for himself, to get Pairo’s medicine, but now he was hesitant to keep up his promise to take his little sister with him.
“(Name)…”
You looked up from your drawing, seeing him standing in the doorway to your room. His bag was packed, slung over his back. “Pika?”
He stared at the drawing you made, a frown on his face. It was a picture of you, him, and Pairo holding hands, playing in the forest. You wanted Pairo to get well just as much as Kurapika did, and he knew that.
“You know how much I care about you, right?”
He took a seat next to you, smiling as you clung to his side. “Yeah… c-cuz you’re my big brother!”
Kurapika petted her hair, sighing softly. “Yes, I’m your big brother, and I have to protect you. And sometimes, that means breaking promises.”
You paused, your crayon dropping to the table. “… Pika?”
He immediately pulled you into a hug as you began to process this information, your little eyes fulling up with tears. “You’re… gonna leave me behind?”
Kurapika felt his heart thump painfully in his chest as you looked at him. You looked like you’d been betrayed, your little face scrunched up in anger and sadness. “You promised! You said you’d always stay with me!”
“(Name)…”
He held you close, kissing the top of your head. “It’s dangerous, I can’t take you with me. You’re too little, and-“
“B-but I’m not that little! I help mama all the time and even papa says I’m super strong!”
Kurapika sighed, rubbing your back to attempt to comfort you. “(Name), I love you more than anything. You have to be good and stay, or you’ll make big brother very sad.”
You stopped crying at that, sniffling as you looked up at him. “I… I don’t wanna make big brother sad… I want you to be happy…”
“I know…”
He held you for a little longer. You may have been attached to Kurapika, but he was just as, if not more attached to you. “I’ll be back before you know it, okay? And I’ll bring home so many treats and toys for you.”
You rubbed your face against his shoulder. “Promise?”
“I promise.”
Despite being upset, you still waved to Kurapika as he left, calling out for him to come back safely.
If only he hadn’t of left you behind.
When Kurapika heard the news 6 weeks later that his clan had been attacked, he rushed home as quickly as he could.
Between the dead bodies, the smell of ash and decay, and the knowledge that his parents and Pairo were dead, Kurapika was only able to focus on one thing.
‘Where is (Name)?’
Your body wasn’t in the place of the massacre, neither in their home, so he made his way towards the outskirts.
There was only one place he knew to look. It was where he had snuck away to read books with Pairo when they were younger. You joined them a few times, usually sitting in Kurapika’s lap and giggling as he showed you pictures and drawings.
‘Please god, don’t take away my baby sister. Let her be there, let her be alive! I promise I’ll never leave her again, just let her still be here!’
Kurapika panted, catching his breath as he leaned against the small opening. Once he was able to breathe again, he was able to peek in.
Inside he could see the small outline of someone, a pair of (e/c) eyes full of tears staring back at him.
“B-big brother?”
Kurapika began to sob, nearly tripping over himself as he ran to pull her into his arms. “(Name), oh my god… oh gods above thank you, thank you…”
You were shaken up, a few cuts and scrapes covering your hands and knees from running and falling while escaping the village, but other than that and being a bit dehydrated and malnourished, you were mostly fine.
Kurapika sat there, holding you in his arms and rocking you as you ate. The visions of his dead clan, of your mother and father flashed in his mind. How was he supposed to tell you? How was he supposed to even speak to you after leaving you all alone?
Had you been scared? Did you spend your nights in fear that the people that hurt mama and papa would come for you too? How many times had you prayed that your big brother would come and save you, just to wake up cold and alone?
“I’m so sorry…” he choked out, his grip tightening around you. “I’ll never leave you again, never.”
You cried too, clinging to your big brother with all the strength you had. He couldn’t bear to see you so scared and upset, you were such a happy little girl before…
Before he abandoned you.
It wasn’t healthy, and it sure as hell wasn’t right, but Kurapika blamed himself for what happened. If he had just taken you with him like he promised, you would have never ended up like this. He could have saved you from being afraid, from going hungry and ending up traumatized.
He would never, ever leave you all alone again. Kurapika was your big brother, and from that day on the bond you two shared only grew. Now, he was your sole guardian, and the only person you had left.
———————
For the next 4 years, Kurapika took care of you as if you were his baby, never letting you leave his side for more than a few minutes. You slept together, ate together, and only stopped bathing together when you told him you were a big girl and wanted to take baths by yourself. He relented, but due to his clingy and paranoid nature, he sat in the bathroom as you bathed, reading you books or chatting with you.
He meant well, he truly did, but being around your big brother felt… stifling sometimes. He was so protective and clingy that making friends was nearly impossible. Kurapika never approved of people being too close to you, and it was hard to blame him. He wasn’t sure who he could trust and who he should be wary of in this world.
As you reaches your 12th birthday, Kurapika knew it was finally time to take the Hunter Exam. He could have taken it earlier, but he couldn’t bear to leave you alone for that long, so he was determined to bring you with him.
You were finally able to make friends with Gon and Killua, and Kurapika relatively accepted it. He was still overbearing and clingy, but he did let you hang out with them. He didn’t really trust Leorio with you at first, but relented with time. Leorio was a doctor, and if you got hurt, Kurapika allowed him to take care of you. It was hard for him, trusting others with his beloved baby sister.
It wasn’t hard to notice how protective and obsessive Kurapika was over his sister and your safety. It was a little worrying, but it was also hard to blame him for ending up the way he did. You were the only other member of his clan left, and his baby sister. Of course he would want to protect and nurture you, even if it was to an extreme extent.
“(Name).”
Kurapika squeezed your hand as the final phase of the exam was revealed, his eyes narrowing. “I want you to forfeit your match.”
“H-huh? Big brother, I don’t understand. If I forfeit th-“
“(Name).”
You flinched, and he quickly began to stroke your cheek. “Hey, I’m sorry. I just… you have to forfeit. You’ll be fighting against Hisoka, and…”
Kurapika bit his lip, pulling you in close. He could sense the magician’s malicious intent. “Just listen to me, okay? You know I’m just trying to protect you.”
So you did as told, humiliated and embarrassed as you immediately forfeited the match. Kurapika sighed with relief and instantly comforted you with a hug and kiss to your forehead. “See? Now you’re safe and you can try again in a future match.”
After the final phase, you passed without even needing to fight, and went with Kurapika to save Killua from the Zoldyck estate. You accompanied him and the others, bonding with Gon, Leorio, and Killua until it was time to go your separate ways.
Kurapika was happy to have you all to himself again, he was terrified that you would leave him all alone one day. So your travels with your big brother continued.
As his work became more dangerous and his infamy grew, he realized that bringing you everywhere with him was more dangerous than leaving you by yourself. So Kurapika made the hardest decision of his life.
“Princess…”
Kurapika opened the door to your hotel room, his eyes softening when he saw you curled up in bed, holding the stuffed animal he bought for you after the massacre. It was something you held dear to you, a reminder that your big brother would always come back for you.
“Pika? What’s wrong?”
You could sense he was uneasy, which in turn made you uneasy. He sighed and sat next to you, reaching out to hold your hand.
“I’ve been thinking…” he said softly, his thumb caressing the back of your hand. “Wouldn’t it be… better if we had a permanent place to call home? Ever since…”
He paused, swallowing hard. Even now he didn’t like bringing up the massacre, especially with you. “Ever since… we started traveling together, we’ve stayed from place to place. I just think… it would be better if… you stayed somewhere safer more… stationary.”
“Pika, so you mean… you won’t be staying with me?”
Despite disliking how smothering and clingy your big brother was, you were just as attached to him as he was to you. You were still the little girl that cried when he left you all those years ago, and couldn’t help but tear up when he avoided your gaze.
“I won’t just abandon you, (Name), but you know as well as I do that I have to enact vengeance on those who slaughtered our brethren. I will always come back to you, you know that right?”
You sniffled as he pulled you into a hug, his arms wrapping tightly around you. “It’s h-happening again… you’re leaving me all alone…”
Kurapika’s eyes went wide, and his grip tightened. You were right, this was too similar to before. His paranoia began to grow as he thought about every way you could get hurt if he left you alone for even a second. His heart thumped against his chest, and his fingers lightly dug into your soft flesh.
“Ow, Pika you’re hurting me!”
He trembled, his grip leaving bruises on your delicate skin, but he couldn’t let you go. “No, no sweetheart I would never leave you… never…”
You began to cry for a different reason. It hurt, your big brother’s love hurt sometimes. “P-please, it hurts!”
Kurapika snapped out of it, instantly releasing you. When you hissed and rubbed your arms, his own eyes got teary. “Oh god… (Name), angel…”
His already fragile mental state began to deteriorate as he held you close, kissing the top of your head. Thoughts of what could happen to you if he left you alone for even a second filled his head.
How could he leave his little, defenseless baby sister alone? Was he stupid? How had he ever thought that would be okay?
“Shh, shh…” he began to rock you, much like he had when he found her after the massacre. “Your big brother is right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
As you fell asleep, you wondered if reacting the way you did had been the right thing to do. Kurapika’s protective nature would only grow, making the things you could do alone become less and less as the years passed by.
He just couldn’t bear to lose his baby sister. Not you, not the only family he had left.
And you didn’t want to lose your big brother, so you didn’t try to leave. If anyone could understand why he was the way he was, it was you.
And you both loved each other. Who else was going to be there for the two of you, after the world turned their backs on you? You only had each other.
And that’s how it would stay, forever.
#yandere kurapika#yandere!kurapika#brother kurapika#kurapika x reader#kurapika x y/n#kurapika x you#kurapika x reader platonic#platonic reader#requests open#x reader#anime x reader#reader insert#headcanon#hxh x reader#hxh imagines#hunter x hunter x reader#anime x chubby reader#chubby!reader#chubby reader#fem!reader#fem reader#female reader#yandere hxh#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere x reader
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Whumptober Day 4: Shock, “I see the danger, it’s written there in your eyes”
We had to get to the bloody ones eventually—
This was originally going to be standalone, but one thing led to another and I think there’s going to be another part at some point. I couldn’t make it longer and I’m very stuck on the idea hehe
Warnings: blood & injury, specifically a stab wound, and just general battle violence and injuries
Read it on ao3
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“Ugh, wizzrobes again?” Legend grumbled as he slid under a bolt of electricity. “We just fought some of these clowns yesterday! Did the Shadow just give up on originality?”
“Less complaining, more fighting!” Warriors shouted at him from nearby, and Legend rolled his eyes.
“Less criticism and more fighting!” Hyrule called back with a mischievous look, and Legend almost laughed, though it turned into a yelp when he dodged another bolt of magic.
Wizzrobes were such a pain.
Especially Wild’s.
Warriors shouted at him again, but this time it was a warning, and Legend deftly jumped away from a blast of ice that would have frozen him solid. He nodded a thanks at the captain, and went back to trying to defeat the wizzrobes, which was nearly impossible with how crazily they moved.
Legend dodged a fireball, and quickly turned and shot a blast of ice at the offending monster. It shrieked, and disappeared into a puff of smoke, and Legend swapped out his ice rod for a fire rod, and did the same to another.
The different rods seemed to work well, and along with the others all fighting together, soon there was only one wizzrobe left. It was in a color Legend hadn’t seen before though, and he looked at it suspiciously.
“Yours come in purple now?” he called behind him towards where he knew Wild was sniping.
“I’ve never seen one like that before!” Wild called back, voice uncertain. “I don’t know what it—”
As he spoke, the wizzrobe grinned, letting out a deranged cackle as it shot a huge burst of magic into the sky. Purple lights flashed, and a glowing ball fell from them, dropping down into the clearing and exploding into blinding light before anyone could do a thing.
Legend yelped and covered his face with his shield, but the magic still knocked him off his feet and onto the ground. It shook into his limbs and up to his face, his vision going white and spotty. It didn’t... hurt, exactly, but something about it felt all mixed up inside of him, jolting through his body and limbs, and he felt rather discombobulated.
“Legend!”
The sensation abruptly faded, and he felt arms tugging at him. Legend gingerly opened his eyes, almost surprised he could see at all, and looked up, meeting Hyrule’s worried gaze. The traveler was looking down at him with wide eyes, and Legend blinked a few times to get the last few spots of white out of his vision.
“Are you okay?” Hyrule asked, looking him over worriedly, “you were closest to that beam, it felt like an explosion went off.”
“Fine, fine,” Legend coughed, then gingerly pulled himself up to a sitting position. “Think it was just... magic. I don’t even think it did anything to me.”
“Nothing?” Hyrule asked suspiciously, and Legend shook his head.
“No. Is everyone else okay? Where’d that wizzrobe go?”
“I haven’t checked yet, but since you’re fine I would guess they’ll be—”
An arrow slammed into the ground right between Legend’s feet.
He jumped, and in one swift movement was on his feet with his shield out, back to back with Hyrule as he looked for the enemy who’d shot. He scanned the field as he looked for where his sword had gone to, then he froze, and stared at who had fired the arrow.
Wild stood across the clearing, his bow drawn with an arrow nocked in Legend’s direction. His brows were lowered as he stared at the veteran, stance unusually firm, and something about the way he held himself just screamed danger.
Legend flicked his eyes around, and felt his breath leave him as he saw Warriors and Sky both staring at him as well, swords drawn and angled towards him in a threatening gesture. Time stood on Legend’s other side, claymore raised as he stared silently at the veteran, and Legend’s heart skipped a beat.
He and Hyrule were surrounded. By their own teammates.
No, Legend realized with a dawning horror, sunlight glinting proudly off Time and Warriors’ armor, no not my teammates.
Knights.
“Captain? What’s going on?” Twilight asked nearby, Wind and Four looking equally confused next to him.
“Traitor to the crown,” Warriors said in a low voice, eyes never blinking.
“You kidnapped the princess,” Wild added in a growl.
“We have our orders,” Sky said in a smooth voice, and raised the Master Sword accusingly. “Dead or alive.”
Legend couldn’t breathe.
“Don’t be crazy!” Wind said in disbelief, looking at Time and Warriors with a shocked expression. “Legend didn’t do anything! What’s wrong with you guys?!”
“The wizzrobe,” Four said with a sharp inhale. “That attack must have done something to make them think he’s the enemy.”
“Time, please, you know Legend, he hasn’t done anything wrong,” Twilight said gently, inching towards him. But Time stopped him with a firm glare, his sword never lowering. The knights all took a step closer to Legend, and he felt Hyrule stiffen at his back.
“Legend, you need to run,” Hyrule whispered. “Now.”
Legend couldn’t move.
Suddenly he was eleven again, staring at a wanted poster with his face on it, wondering why the reward was so high. He was eleven, screamed at by the townsfolk, and surrounded by guards just for trying to walk into the village to buy food on his quest. He was eleven, chased down by brainwashed knights and forced to fight them, some of them people he knew, his uncle’s friends, raise his uncle’s sword against them and hurt them—
“Legend RUN!”
He snapped back into himself just in time to avoid a thrust from Warriors, and Hyrule grabbed his wrist when he merely stared at the weapon that had almost killed him, pulling him away.
“Come back you traitor!” Warriors shouted, and Legend blinked, able only to watch in numb shock as Four and Twilight leapt to defend him, Hyrule still dragging him away.
Sky leapt forward, then cried out as the Master Sword fell from his grip, sparking as she was about to be used against one of her own. Wind took the opportunity to tackle him, and Legend watched blankly as the sailor wrestled Sky’s pouch away from him so he couldn’t grab any more weapons.
“Don’t hurt them!” Wind cried out, still struggling with Sky, “they’re not themselves!”
“Keep them away from Legend!” Twilight shouted as he crossed swords with Warriors, the captain swinging his blade with fierce strokes.
Hyrule nodded, and blocked a slew of arrows from plunging into Legend’s chest, then yanked him behind his back as he avoided a huge swing from Time.
“You’ve betrayed us all!” Time spat, and Hyrule crossed blades with him, nearly driven to his knees by the force of it. “You’re nothing but a false hero, poisoning the land with your lies!”
The words were like a knife, and Legend could only watch in blank shock, stunned as Hyrule struggled against Time, as Twilight and Warriors still fought against each other, Wind nearly getting punched in the face by Sky while Four tried desperately to get close enough to Wild to stop him from sniping them all down—
“Legend! Snap out of it!” Hyrule shouted as he somehow managed not to be lopped in two by another of Time’s swings. “You’re going to get killed, wake up!”
He wasn’t sure if it was the phrase or the desperation in Hyrule’s voice, but Legend finally snapped into action, firmly shaking himself. You can freak out later when half of your team isn’t trying to kill you!
Legend dove for his gilded sword, but hissed at the warning spark he felt as he grabbed it. Sometimes he forgot his blade was another version of the Master Sword, upgraded and changed, but at times like these it was impossible.
I’m not going to hurt them, I’m only defending myself, he begged as it got hotter, still stubbornly holding on even as his hands began to burn. Please, you know I’m not!
The hilt scorched his hands, and Legend was forced to shove it into its sheathe, grabbing in his pouch for a backup sword. Before he could though, something swung towards him, and he only barely got his shield up in time to block it.
The strike threw him to the ground for the second time today, and Legend nearly had the breath knocked out of him. His eyes widened as Wild raised a claymore of some kind to strike him with, and he just barely managed to roll out of the way of another hit.
“Champion I don’t want to have to hurt you,” he gritted out, but Wild didn’t reply.
His face was eerily closed-off as he tried to hit him, strikes almost clinically precise. Legend had to dodge all over the place, and he still got a shallow cut on his arm. Not to mention his hands were smarting from trying to use the gilded sword, and every time a hit rang out against his shield, he had to bite his lip to keep from crying out.
Wild swung again, and Legend gritted his teeth and used his backup sword to shove the champion backwards, then grabbed for his ice rod again. His aching fingers closed around it, but then he felt his entire body freeze in place, yellow shining in his vision.
He couldn’t move. He couldn’t defend himself. He couldn’t do anything, and he suddenly realized that Wild must have used the stasis rune on his slate on him.
No, no no no no no—
Before he could panic too much, the magic broke, and Legend stumbled, thrown off-balance. He looked around in surprise, then saw Four standing next to him, having frozen Wild’s feet to the ground with Legend’s own dropped ice rod.
He could only stare at him for a second, and startled as Four yanked him behind his shield, blocking the arrows Wild was shooting at them again.
“Should have gotten his arms too,” he cursed, then turned towards Legend. “Vet, they’re all after you, you need to go find that wizzrobe and beat it. That should break the magic, I think it’s our best bet. We can keep them all busy while you go.”
“But— you’re outnumbered,” Legend said a bit hysterically, his panic over the whole situation starting to come back, “not in numbers but skill, have you ever seen Sky and the captain duel? Not to mention the old man, he could probably take on all of you at once—”
Four put a hand on his arm, and gave him a small smile as he raised his sword.
“I can get us some more help. But you need to go.”
Legend swallowed, but he knew Four was right, and gave him a nod as he grabbed his ice rod and bolted in the direction he’d last seen the wizzrobe.
He suddenly felt like he was eleven again.
He caught sight of Hyrule as he ran, the traveler using his magic to stay away from Time’s deadly swings. He had blood on his leg, but his face was as determined as ever, and he firmly blocked Time from following when the older hero saw Legend running away.
“Coward!” he heard shouted behind him, but Legend kept running despite the sting it left in his chest.
He bolted past Twilight, who had an arrow in his arm and multiple other injuries, but was continuing to fight anyway, blocking Warriors’ strikes with a grieved look, almost like he’d been forced to do this before. Wind was still wrestling with Sky, fists flying as the Skyloftian tried desperately to get his weapons back, but Wind was determined to keep him down.
Every instinct of Legend’s was screaming at him to turn around and fight, help his friends, his brothers, he had so many items that could help them— but he forced himself to continue, ignoring a pained cry when he heard it.
Legend was smart enough to realize the only way they would all get out of this alive would be if he broke the curse. They couldn’t stand against some of the best fighters of their group forever— it was only a matter of time before someone was seriously hurt.
But no matter how many times he told himself that, it still felt like he was abandoning them.
This is the only way to help right now. You’re not leaving them, you’re doing what needs to be done.
If you stayed here, you would only make their job more difficult.
Legend searched desperately through the trees for a flash of purple, hoping desperately the wizzrobe was still in the area.
He had no way of knowing if he was looking in the right spot or not. For all he knew, the wizzrobe was long gone, but he kept looking, even as the clashing of swords still rang in his ears, and a scream that sounded a bit like Four echoed nearby.
Legend bit down on his lip so hard he tasted blood, and ignored the stinging that had started up in his eyes as he searched.
The others were back there somewhere, fighting against their brothers, risking their lives, all for him, to keep him safe, and he’d frozen and barely helped them and now he couldn’t even find the stupid wizzrobe.
“Come on! Come out and fight me!” he screamed, voice breaking a little. “Are you afraid? Because you better be!”
A giggle flitted through the trees, and Legend shot a blast of ice out, the laughter only growing.
Purple weaved through the foliage, and Legend shot another blast out, obviously missing due to the giggle he overheard. He knew his emotions were making him sloppy, and Legend forced himself to steady his hand. He breathed out, lowering his weapon and acting as if he was unaware of where the wizzrobe was.
Come on, take the bait...
A giggle erupted in his face, and Legend thrust out his ice rod, making the wizzrobe scream as it was launched backwards. It fell to the ground, stuck solidly in a chunk of ice, and Legend pulled out his fire rod, prepared to burn it to a crisp.
Then something hit him in the side, and he went flying, crying out as he fell to the grass.
His side ached where he’d been hit, and before he could move, what felt like a foot stepped down on his chest, pressing against his doubtlessly bruised ribs and stopping him from getting up. Legend opened his eyes and saw Warriors staring silently down at him, sword raised to pierce him through.
Somehow he’d gotten past the others.
“Wars— Warriors don’t,” Legend choked out, struggling to catch his breath. “Link, please I’m not your enemy!”
“You’re a traitor,” Warriors said in a cold voice, still not blinking. He had blood running down his face from a cut over his eye, but his face showed no sign of pain. “My orders are clear.”
“Captain wake up!” Legend shouted, terror rising in his throat. “You’re not yourself, you’d never hurt any of us, snap out of it!”
Warriors didn’t react in the slightest, and raised his sword.
Legend felt a burst of panic, and he shot his arm out, feeling desperately for where he’d dropped his fire rod. If he could just kill the wizzrobe, Warriors would wake up, the spell would break—
Warriors’ sword went down as Legend’s fingers closed around his rod, and he shot a desperate plume of flame towards the dazed wizzrobe.
The fire hit it right as Warriors’ sword buried itself in his middle, and Legend’s scream mixed with the wizzrobe’s, hot agony slicing into his chest. The sword was pulled out again only seconds later, but then Warriors stumbled back, the weapon dropping from his hands.
Legend barely noticed, trying not to scream again as the sword fell to the ground beside him, already feeling blood start to dampen his tunic.
Okay, okay okay easy, you’ve been stabbed before, no big deal. Just because Warriors was who did it doesn’t change a thing, put pressure on it, you need to put pressure—
His chest burned and Legend couldn’t hold back a cry, taking thick breaths through his nose.
Goddesses please, not like this, he’ll never forgive himself.
“L-Legend?” Warriors said dizzily, shaking his head as he tried to clear it. He put a hand to his forehead, and blinked several times, wiping blood from his face with a confused look. “Vet, what...”
Then his eyes focused, and he noticed the stab wound in his chest.
“LEGEND!”
Warriors dropped to his knees beside him, and Legend couldn’t help but jerk away from him, nearly shrieking as the captain immediately pressed his hands to his middle, trying to stem the flow.
“Legend don’t move, what happened how did this...”
Warriors trailed off as his gaze landed on his bloodied sword, and every bit of color drained from his face as he recognized it as his own.
“Legend?” he said shakily, and Legend swallowed, unable to stop himself from meeting his eyes.
A sword was abruptly pressed to Warriors’ neck, and Legend watched dizzily as Twilight forced the captain back, the look in his eyes equally furious and horrified. Warriors jerked like he wanted to go back to Legend, but he raised his arms in surrender, and moved back as Hyrule dropped to his side. More of the Links rushed into the clearing around Legend, but Warriors only had eyes for him, confusion and horror shining bright.
Hyrule’s hands pressed against his middle, and Legend sucked in another trembling breath.
“It— it’s gone,” he stuttered, and felt something warm slip past his lips. Oh that’s not good. “Wizzrobe— he’s not— not g-gonna—”
“Don’t talk Legend, you’ll be fine,” Hyrule said firmly, and Legend wasn’t sure if he imagined the tremble in his voice or not. “Just stay awake, okay? I’m gonna fix you up.”
Hyrule moved a careful hand around his chest, feeling at the injury, and Legend tensed, hissing through his teeth. Someone’s hand touched his head, and he flinched, choking as something moved in his middle.
The cold he’d been trying to ignore was growing closer now, nipping at his extremities, trying to suck him down. Legend firmly ignored the feeling, despite how easy it would be to sink into it, and focused on Hyrule’s face, blearily realizing there was blood on his shoulder. He wondered who had done that to him.
The pressure on his chest abruptly increased, and Legend couldn’t muffle his scream, so many sensations hitting him that his brain couldn’t even process it.
Then something began to trickle through his middle, something that warmed the cold that had been falling over him. Warmth blossomed in his chest, different from the hot blood that had been trickling across it, and Legend exhaled, relaxing slightly as Hyrule’s magic wove through him.
Once he could focus enough to realize Hyrule was still healing him, he reached down and grabbed his wrist, giving him a look.
“I’m good, don’t overextend yourself,” he said a little shakily, and he cut Hyrule off when he went to argue. “You already used a lot of magic, I saw you.”
“You lost a lot of blood,” Hyrule retorted.
“Well I’m not the only one who’s going to need healing,” Legend said more quietly, and Hyrule stopped, the glow fading from his hands.
Twilight appeared in his vision then, arrow still jutting from his arm, and he scanned Legend’s bloodstained middle in silence. Then he met Legend’s gaze, looking much older then he normally did.
“You definitely got the wizzrobe?” he asked seriously, and Legend nodded, his eyes suddenly heavy with exhaustion.
“It’s dead. The spell broke the moment I got it,” he said in a quiet voice. “They won’t... they’re safe.”
Oh gods I hope they are.
Twilight exhaled, and nodded, putting a hand on Legend’s arm.
“Okay. Try and get some rest, Veteran. We’ll handle things.”
“Take the literal arrow out of your arm first,” he muttered back, and a faint smile pulled at Twilight’s lips.
“We’re working on fixing everyone up. Rest. We can... we’ll figure all of this out later,” Twilight said quietly, glancing behind him at something. Legend followed his gaze, and saw Warriors sitting on a log, staring silently at the blood on his hands.
The others who’d been affected by the wizzrobe were nearby, and Sky looked like he was trying to talk to the captain, but Legend looked away as Hyrule began to bandage his middle.
Traitor!
Legend closed his eyes, and tried not to listen to any of the voices that still rang around his head, or focus on the horrified look of Warriors’ that was still seared into his mind.
He didn’t want to think about it. Any of it.
#sorry Legend#linkeduniverse#linked universe#lu legend#lu hyrule#lu warriors#lu chain#whumptober#whumptober 2023#day 4#shock#I see the danger it’s written there in your eyes#writing from the floor#tw blood#tw injury#tw violence#I think that’s it#whew#so yeah I’ll continue this another day don’t worry#we’ll have some nice fallout from all this... >:)
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I was thinking long and hard about what to do for today's theme. Ultimately I decided on the parallels between Julia and Ilsa bringing Ethan back to life by having to shock him with electricity. These two moments give me feels.
@thethistlegirl
@whumptober
AO3 link here
#whumptober2023#no.4#I see the danger It’s written there in your eyes#shock#mission impossible#mission impossible III#mission impossible: rogue nation#gif#electrocution TW#electrical shock TW#my gifs#mission impossible gifs#my edit#missionimpossibleedit#ethan hunt#julia meade#ilsa faust#tom cruise#michelle monaghan#rebecca ferguson#parallels
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#Blake's 7#whumptober2023#no.04#I see the danger It’s written there in your eyes#Roj Blake#Vila Restal#Cally#Don't You Dare Turn Away into the Darkness#illustration#art#whumptober
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Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Baldur's Gate (Video Games)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Astarion/Tav (Baldur's Gate)
Characters: Tav (Baldur's Gate), Astarion (Baldur's Gate)
Additional Tags: Mind Control, Whumptober 2023, Act 2 Spoilers, Nonbinary Tav (Baldur's Gate)
Series: Part 4 of Fecky's Whumptober Oneshots (2023)
Summary:
Tav learns a lesson about not underestimating any opponent.
A/N:
No. 4: “I see the danger, It’s written there in your eyes.”
Cattle Prod | Shock | “You in there?”
Hrarrrgghghg jumping into the Astarion/Tav tag with this fic feeling 100%, not-at-all, completely un-self-concious at all. Hi hi hi, here's some whump for everyone involved :D
Have I finished Act 3? No. Have I played ANY of Act 3? What are you, a cop?
Written There in Your Eyes
Tav doesn’t think much of the warning that they’ve been given upon entering this part of the city. Not that the warnings were cryptic or unclear in any fashion. In fact, knowing that they had a ticking clock to seek and destroy the forces controlling an Illithid Elder brain, well that about removed any concerns to think about never mind overthink the clear forewarnings that “folk who enter the lower district don’t come out themselves anymore.”
Sure. They come out brimming with mind flayer parasites. Join the club. They were not that special.
It wasn’t just Tav who had been dismissive of the comments, either. Karlach had covered up a yawn - poorly - when the third warning had been given. Gale had politely thanked the gnomish man while Tav ushered the group further on.
After invading Moonrise Towers and a goblin camp; facing off with driders, gnolls, and trolls; and carrying around a mind flayer who could only leave a geometric artifact by visiting the dreams of their party, it would have taken a lot for Tav to take a couple of armed Baldurians as an equivalent threat. Astarion had managed to identify and disarm the traps tucked in the alleyway that they were investigating, and the subsequent ambush that came only managed to catch Gale off-guard out of the group of them.
Tav nodded to Karlach, signaling the woman to let loose. They would deal with these Absolute cultists much in the same manner that they had employed for the past weeks. Hit ‘em hard, and hit ‘em fast.
The drow and tiefling tried to take focus off of Gale and Astarion with the immediate push forward that they made. While Karlach barrelled her way through the scattered forces tucked among the doorways and crates that peppered the alleyway, Tav took a running leap up to one of the balconies to give the archer lurking there a swift halberd to the face. If there was a dart of pale skin and even paler hair that slunk into the shadows, it would be hard to notice amid the surge of sound and fury below.
Gale fumbled the first few seconds, but that was probably fine.
Tav took a blow to their shoulder when the archer they were focused on didn’t go down instantly. Their second series of attacks served them a respite, especially when they felt the whispery touch of Gale’s hastening magicks sink into their skin and muscle.
Karlach practically bathed in bloodlust elixir every morning, so she didn’t need the assist. The sparks that flew from her greataxe mixed with the tiny puffs of flame that her engine let off. Yet it was another red glistening light that caught Tav’s eye from above. They hesitated before seeking another target, looking for the source of the emanation. Nothing revealed itself to their eyes.
“You will bend to her will!” one of the apparent cultists yowled before receiving one of Karlach’s oh-so-generously given backhanded strikes.
Tav shook their head before summoning a running leap across to the next open balcony. Would it kill the cultists to get some new material? If Tav heard about the joy or inevitability of serving the Absolute one more time, they were going to vomit.
This landing was a little rougher than the last. Tav hadn’t gotten the elevation quite right in their estimation and tucked into a roll to prevent their ankle from giving way completely. Thank the gods for Gale’s spell which hastened their reflexes so they weren’t stuck prone. Standing up put them directly in front of another archer. The halfling woman knocked an arrow despite the fact that Tav was close enough to count her rotted teeth.
It was Tav’s turn to be relieved, however, as they looked behind the halfling’s shoulder to a much more pleasant sight. Not many would take pleasure in spying the lingering figure of a vampire spawn prepped to strike, but, well, Tav had long since given up being typical. They leaned back on their heels, deflected the arrowhead from hitting anything too critical, and grinned toothily.
Astarion’s blade ran through the halfling’s gut, the adamantine making a sickly glimmer where it could be seen protruding. Tav grimaced when the body fell onto their boots, forcing them to step back. “Nice timing,” they remarked. Pointless death didn’t appeal to Tav, though they still appreciated it when their neck was getting saved.
Glancing over their shoulder, Tav could see Karlach and Gale cleaning up the remaining stragglers in the alleyway below. They could pause to lean down and rifle through the halfling’s pockets. After all, they needed to find their next lead. The woman’s pockets appeared to be empty save for a handful of gold pieces that Tav held up for Astarion to take.
“Let me check the front,” they said, shaking their hand again when the coins remained in place. Still he didn’t take the gold. Tav tipped their head to look up. They were nose to blade with Astarion’s scimitar which shuddered imperceptibly. “Astarion?”
The only reason why Tav was able to twitch out of the way of the slash that came for their neck was due to the magic in their veins. “Oy!” they cried out, scuttling back on hands and feet. The gold coins scattered and tinkled as they slipped off of the balcony to the ground below.
The red irises of Astarion’s eyes held a malice which Tav had not seen before, especially not when leveraged at them. His scimitar lashed out again, quickly followed up by his dagger he wielded. Tav hissed, only able to dodge the first one. They regretted the contact when the familiar bloom of wyvern poison ran through Tav’s veins.
“Snap out of it. Hey! Friendly here!” Tav snarled. They were able to clamber to their feet and roughly shove Astarion backwards. Not that Tav wanted to actually push him off of the balcony, but they wanted to get those blades out of their face.
From below, Karlach called out curiously, “What’s going on, Soldier?”
“Wish that I knew,” Tav replied quickly. They raked their eyes over Astarion, trying to discern what in the hells was going on with the man. The only thing they could discern was that strange, hollow redness in his gaze.
Summoning their own magics, Tav drew two fingers together and pointed roughly at Astarion. “Forgive me for this later, please,” they growled before saying firmly, “Calm down.” They pulled the spell to life with the verbal command. It flared lightly around their hand and around Astarion’s figure before popping into nothingness.
Tav’s stomach dropped out even as the spell failed. With all that they had built with Astarion, trying to command his actions went far past a line they thought they would always respect. Yes, there were extenuating circumstances going on, but Tav already regretted that they had even tried it.
The flash of adamantine that snick’t into the joins of their chestplate and came back bloody brought Tav back to grim reality. Astarion was not home right now. Respecting his autonomy might be best suited to later when the man was back in his own mind.
“Counterspell?” Tav questioned, hoping that Gale would be able to do something more than they had.
“Won’t work after the fact,” Gale replied grimly. This exchange had Tav deflecting that poisoned dagger again, grimacing when sparks flew between themself and Astarion from the force of his strike on their armor.
“Then find the godsdamned spellcaster!” Tav retorted. They wouldn’t be able to play defensive forever, after all. Fishing one hand into their bandolier of quick-access potions, they armed themselves with a tidy, clear vial.
Throwing it down onto the floor should have been simple, but Tav’s muscles were starting to seize at the worst moments from the wyvern toxin running rampant through their system. The sleep potion hit the ground, bounding off of the balcony’s floor and onto the ground below. Only then did the fragile glass shatter.
Karlach was leaping onto her closest balcony now, a fiery distraction in the corner of both Tav and Astarion’s eyes. Tav edged closer, their hand moving out to grapple for the hilt of that treacherous dagger.
“Drop it. C’mon now. Let. Go,” they hissed as they struggled to disarm Astarion without causing any damage to him or themself.
It was a nice sentiment. Ultimately getting the poisoned dagger away meant taking another slice to their offhand arm by the scimitar. Still, Tav was able to toss the dagger down to the inaccessible ground below. After another handful of tense seconds, the scimitar joined it. Tav found themself holding both of Astarion’s wrists captive and staring into those furious eyes once more.
They couldn’t help making another plea. Magicks had nothing over the pure-hearted asks of one’s lover, right?
“Please stop, Astarion. It’s me. You know me. Please,” Tav breathed.
Something flickered there, deep behind the crimson magicks that rimmed his eyes. Tav tugged Astarion closer, betting on whatever the hell they had to be stronger than the spell. Their forehead touched Astarion’s, however briefly.
He pulled away as though burned, and something unholy made its home in Tav’s gut as they watched Astarion recoil from them. Then the fear truly set in when Tav saw Astarion’s jaw drop down and his body lurch forward. His fangs tore through skin and muscle, a reckless and brutish strike. Tav’s weakened constitution had them barely holding themself upright.
“Ngh-eugh! Get off!” Tav cried. Their grip on Astarion’s wrists bound them together rather than gave them the right leverage to shove him away. They had to stumble backwards, pursued by the vampire spawn who had lunged for a second, messier strike on their throat.
Tav’s head spun, the balcony lurched under their feet, and the entirety of Baldur’s Gate might as well have been tipped at a ninety-degree angle for all that Tav could make of their world. Each swat of their palm against Astarion’s chest had no more impact than a kitten’s bat of a paw. Summoning strength from their deity, Tav channeled divine might into one final slam of their head against Astarion.
It certainly didn’t help the spinning to add a cacophony of ringing into their mind, but by some twist of luck it had at least gotten Astarion to stumble back. Tav lay half-blind to the world on their back on the balcony floor, wondering if this would really be how they went out.
Astarion would never forgive himself. Well, actually maybe he would after the first few years. This surely wasn’t his fault, and it wasn’t like Tav hadn’t given him permission. Even after he’d nearly killed them the first time that he had drank from them. They just kept walking right on back to his tent and offering some more.
Someone was laughing in the alleyway. Maybe the spellcaster, whomever had befuddled Astarion’s mind. Maybe their spell was affecting Tav next. Or maybe they were just going absolutely loopy from lack of blood.
Part of Tav really wanted to lean up on their elbows to at least be aware when Astarion’s next strike happened. Yet no matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t get their muscles to move in the right manner.
It occurred to them that they were laughing too hard to redirect that much energy to their limbs. Silly Tav.
“Not silly. Just a bit bloodless. Up and at ‘em, Soldier.”
Tav resisted being manhandled to an upright position, at least until they spotted the back of Astarion’s armor. He had turned away from Karlach, and all that Tav could see was the slight wave of motion as he ran his hands through his hair.
“Who needs blood?” Tav vaguely recognized the words coming out of their mouth were strung together into a sentence. The world around them moved in unsteady jerks and pauses as their focus could not be broken from the back of the figure in front of them.
Realistically, Tav should have rallied with an aid spell or downed a potion or even just let themself sit for more than thirty seconds on the floor. Instead they chose to step away from Karlach’s comforting, guiding embrace to stand roughly in the space next to Astarion.
“Hey,” they said briskly before either they could lose the words rattling around or their target could wander off, “welcome back.”
They took comfort in the fact that Astarion’s cool gaze slid over to meet theirs, even if it was just for a moment’s time. The absence of the red-hot fury there was a balm to Tav.
“... You look atrocious, darling,” was his only response as he turned his face away. Tav leaned forward to put a hand on his shoulder - never mind that they had been aiming for his wrist - to stop him for just a handful of seconds.
“‘M glad you’re okay,” Tav said firmly. They gripped Astarion’s shoulder tightly, waiting until his head nodded once, twice in tense acknowledgement of what they had said. Then Astarion slipped away.
#Whumptober2023#No.4#I see the danger It’s written there in your eyes#Baldur's Gate 3#Fic#bg3 fic#astarion/tav#sarah writes
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K&J: Kane's Whumptober Bites #4
Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist
content: vampire whumpee, starvation, electrocution, torture, captivity, multiple whumpers, sadistic whumper
@whumptober Day 4: “I see the danger, It’s written there in your eyes.” / Cattle Prod / Shock / “You in there?”
-
The hunters laughed as Kane lunged forward again, pulling his chain taut. It wasn’t even silver this time, the steel more than enough to hold him in his starved state, but it didn’t matter.
All that mattered was the blood. Right there, glistening and red and rich and delicious and everything he’s ever wanted, dripping decadently from the hunter’s finger, forming a lovely red trail down his hand. Kane needed it more than anything. He couldn’t even find it in him to be afraid, in that moment, every ounce of his mind devoted solely to his desperate need for food.
He whined, eyes wild, trying to scramble forward as best he could, broken nails scrabbling against concrete floor. It was no use. The chain pulled at his ankle, stopping him from getting close. From sinking his fangs into that hand, into its owner’s neck, from drinking and drinking until he’s finally had his fill–
“You in there, parasite?” One of the other hunters poked him in the head with something plastic, but Kane couldn’t focus on that right now.
Fangs bared, he pulled and pulled, reaching his arms out desperately toward the bleeding hunter. His whines were louder now, and he managed to express a coherent thought: “Please, I need it! I’m so hungry!”
Another round of laughter.
“Oh, I dunno, I think you’re perfect just the way you are. Let’s see if we can get you under control another way.”
The plastic thing came back, but turned around this time, poking him in the chest with the other end– not plastic. Metal. He yelped at the burn, flinching back. But this was different from silver, not the same kind of burn.
As his eyes focused, Kane realized it wasn’t a burn at all, but a shock. They’d poked him with a cattle prod.
“I– I’m s-sorry, sir–”
The bleeding hunter squeezed his finger, another drop of blood oozing from the small cut. The last of the coherent thought vanished as the intoxicating smell intensified, and he leapt once more, his chain pulling tight and forcing him back to the ground.
He screamed as the other hunter stuck the prod into the back of his neck and held it there, not letting up.
“Not sorry enough. Don’t worry, we’ll teach you.”
#whumptober2023#no.4#i see the danger it's written there in your eyes#cattle prod#shock#you in there?#oc#fic#starvation#electrocution#torture#captivity#kane and jim drabbles#kanes whumptober bites#whump#my writing#vampire whumpee#vampire whump#multiple whumpers#sadistic whumper
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Whumptober Day 4: "I see the danger, it's written there in your eyes" + "You in there?"
Read on Ao3
- Wind & Warriors
- Summary: Wind is forced to fight a malice-possessed Warriors
CW for possession, blood and injury, and mild body horror
---------------
Wind has seen Warriors in many different states. He has seen him pale and haggard from stress and exhaustion, ashen and white-faced from deep wounds. He has seen his eyes crinkle with laughter and his expression fall as he cries. He has seen him angry and joyful, heartbroken and terrified.
But never has he seen him like this.
The knight stands before him, wavering unsteadily on his feet. One half of his face is pale – too pale – and his eye shines abnormally bright from within it. But the other half is coated in a mass of sticky-looking purple-black goo. It clings to him like a mask, burrowing beneath his eye socket. The usual Hylian blue of his eye has turned to black and his pupil is a golden, cat-like slit rimmed in crimson.
The purple stuff travels down his body from there. It trails along the curve of his neck, spreading around his chest, creeping across his abdomen, traveling down to wind about his left leg. It gurgles as he takes a stumbling step forward.
“What’s the matter, sailor?” He grins, cracked lips pulling back to reveal crimson-tinged teeth. “Do you not like this new version of me?”
Wind takes a step back. His sword feels heavy in his hand.
“You-you’re not you, Warriors.”
Even saying it makes his throat feel tight. But he has to. He has to speak the truth.
When the Captain had gone missing last week, he had feared the worst. They all had. And when Wolfie had tracked his scent to Hyrule Castle, the mood had only dipped further.
(“No one goes in this place, anymore,” Wild had said, gazing at the castle with something akin to bitterness. “Not unless they don’t want to come out. There’s malice hidden in the walls. Zelda and I haven’t gotten around to cleaning it up yet.”)
But even that hadn’t completely dashed Wind’s hopes. Warriors was tough – is tough – and he had thought…well, he had thought he would find him when he had walked into the castle. Injured maybe, and in need of help, but not like this. Not unrecognizable, a monster in the form of his brother.
That is who he must face, however. And now with the rest of the heroes locked outside, he is left to face him alone.
“You’ve gotta fight it,” he pleads as Warriors comes steadily closer. “I know you can do it! You’ve just gotta try!”
“Try?” Warriors laughs and the sound seems to echo off of the stone walls. “There is nothing to try. This is what I am now, and I am better for it.”
He raises his sword. His breathing is haggard, every inhale sharp. Wind can’t say he’s afraid of him…not truly, not when he knows there is still a part of him, hidden deep within that is the Warriors he knows and loves. But when the goo begins traveling along the floor toward him, he can’t help the way his heart leaps into his throat.
“I was a servant of the goddess for so long,” Warriors continues, his voice hoarse and crackling. “I thought she gave me purpose, made me strong. But now I see that that was all a lie.”
Wind swallows. He can feel the tension in the air, building up for the knight’s next words.
“Why would I serve her, when I could have the ability to resurrect one infinitely more powerful?
“Ganondorf.”
He had known it was coming, but the name hits him like a massive wave anyway. Wind takes a step forward now, anger and fear coursing through him.
“He’s the bad guy and you know it!” He cries. “I know you do!”
Warriors only chuckles, the sound grating and sinister. “You’re foolish, just as I was. But you’ll see soon enough.” He grins, eyes glinting. “Or you’ll die.”
“Sailor!” Twilight calls from behind him. His words mingle with the curses and sounds of frustration of the other heroes. Their voices are muffled by the thick walls that stand between them and Wind, but he can hear them well enough. “What’s going on in there? Are you okay?”
Wind drags in a breath. His palms are sweaty, his hands trembling.
“Wars is…he-he’s covered in purple gooey stuff.”
“He’s what?!” It’s Wild now, panic sharp in his tone. “Sailor, is he acting weird?”
“Yeah.” His voice trembles and he clears his throat. “He…I-I think he’s possessed.”
“Possessed?” He can hear Legend groan. “That’s just our luck.”
“I’m going to find another way in,” Time says, voice brittle as ice. “You all remain here and aid the sailor any way you can.”
“There is no other—” Wild cuts off with an audible sigh. Wind guesses the old man went off before he could finish.
“He’s still fighting,” Wind says, even as he steps back again, trying vainly to keep some distance between him and the slowly advancing captain. “There’s gotta be a way we can help him.”
“There is,” Wild replies. “Listen, Wind, he’s trapped in malice. So, you’ve got to shoot the…”
A piercing scream drowns out his next words. Wind startles, grip on his sword tightening in preparation. But Warriors has stopped short and the malice with him.
He is curled in on himself now, hunched figure looking so much weaker and more broken than seconds before. He presses a hand to his face and instantly the goop oozes over his fingertips. The scream trails off into a moan that quickly turns into a croaked word.
“Wind?”
The sailor inhales sharply at the sound. Hope leaps inside his chest.
“It’s me, captain! I’m here! We-we’re all here! We’re gonna save you!”
Warriors falls to his knees. Wind can’t help but take a step towards him. But then the captain lifts his head and there is such anguish in his expression that it breaks his heart. He comes to a halt, throat dangerously tight.
“Wind….” The word is softer this time, more breathed than spoken. “I-I can’t…”
“You can!” Wind takes another step, ignoring the warning signals blaring in his brain. This is his brother and he’s not about to abandon him now. “I believe in you, Wars! You can fight this!”
The edges of Warriors’ mouth lift just slightly. A tear rolls down his cheek.
“Sailor,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry…please…run.”
There’s a beat of silence. And then, he begins to cackle.
He rises on shaky legs, stumbling upward like a redead rising to consume its prey. He moves forward, every step slow and jerky. The malice spreads out like a carpet before him.
Warriors grins, all sharp teeth and deathly pale skin. Blood dribbles from his mouth.
“You thought you’d won, didn’t you? You thought you wouldn’t have to fight me. So sorry to disappoint.”
He flicks a finger and suddenly the malice speeds up. It zips toward Wind in a blur of violet and black and bits of crimson. His heart jumps into his throat and he leaps sideways. Not a moment too soon either. The malice collides with the wall behind him with a sickening splat.
Wind cringes.
Is that how it had attacked Warriors? He wonders. But there isn’t time to imagine how such a horrifying fate had befallen his brother. Because Warriors whirls with startling speed and strikes again.
This time Wind is better prepared. He drops into a somersault. The malice rushes past his ear, so close he’s almost sure it’s going to hit the tip. But then he’s up again, just behind Warriors. Taking a deep breath he raises his sword and brings it down on the mass of malice that trails in the captain’s wake.
The hit does nothing.
The malice retracts, then with an unholy screech reaches for him. Wind’s eyes go wide.
He dodges, shoulder colliding painfully with the wall. Warriors turns to him with a leering smirk. Wind is unpleasantly reminded of the little imps in the Forbidden Fortress — the ones that poked at his heels and chased him up the walls. The thought makes him sick.
Warriors isn’t supposed to look like that.
“You’re fast,” the captain says. “And skilled. No wonder I loved you. At first I wasn’t sure how I could’ve cared about some kid. But now I know. You were useful.”
Wind swallows, hard. The words hurt him more than he’d like to admit.
It’s not true. He doesn’t mean it, he tells himself, firmly. It’s the malice talking, not him.
Warriors leaps toward him again, this time bringing his sword slicing through the air. Wind is forced to hurl himself sideways to escape being pinned against the wall.
But he doesn’t have time to even catch his breath. Malice surges toward him across the ground, grasping his feet even as he turns. He struggles, fear running hot in his veins. Its grip is strong, however, and it holds him firmly in place.
Warriors stalks up to him. Wind forces himself to meet his crazed stare.
“You can’t run anymore,” he sneers. “Fight me or die. There are no other options.” He steps closer, hand outstretched inches from Wind’s face. Malice encases his fingertips. “Unless, of course, you would rather join me.”
He tilts his head and the way the light falls upon the still-human side of his face almost makes him look like himself again. Almost.
“You could help me resurrect him. You could help me bring an end to this world.”
Tears run in rivulets down his cheeks. He tastes salt. But Wind curls his hand into fist.
“I won’t help you. Not like that. I’m gonna set you free!”
Warriors straightens, sword clasped tightly in his fist. The eye of malice narrows, as though seeking prey. Its contrasting array of colors seem to gleam.
With it so close, Wind finds it hard to take his gaze off of it. His hands almost itch to lose an arrow into it like he has done in so many dungeons.
Legend’s voice echoes in his mind, colored with peals of laughter.
“Always shoot the eye.”
Then, comes Wild, tone panicked but determined, muffled by the thick walls, cut off by Warriors’ cries of agony.
“You’ve gotta shoot the…”
Wind inhales sharply.
That’s it!
There is still hope, after all.
The malice continues to climb sluggishly up his body, weighing him down. The darkness that emanated off of it is suffocating. Lifting a shaking hand, Warriors aims the tip of his sword at his heart.
“Then you’ll die.”
Wind takes a deep breath. Swiping at his tears, he steels himself. Hand heavy, heart in his throat, he lifts his sword.
Please let this work, he prays.
And then, he plunges the weapon into Warriors’ face.
There is a nauseating squish, a skull-splitting scream, and Warriors crumples. The malice around Wind’s legs dissipates in a cloud of dark violet specks. The goop on and around Warriors follows suit seconds later.
Instantly, Wind is on his knees, sword sheathed, hands on Warriors’ shoulder. He turns the knight over, choking out his name as the windows and doorways of the Sanctum slide open and the sunlight streams in. It illuminates the captain’s — now completely human — face in blessed light.
Distantly, Wind registers that the others are racing into the room, calling his and Warriors’ names, punctuated with panicked questions. But he can’t bring himself to reply.
Warriors’ eyes are closed now, his freed body still.
…Too still. Wind watches his chest, waiting for it to rise.
“Come on.” Tears spring to his eyes anew and roll down his cheeks, tracing the paths of their predecessors. He doesn’t bother to wipe them away. “Come on, Warriors, wake up.”
Please don’t be dead.
Time is dropping down beside him now, already uncorking a bottle. A fairy flies free and heads straight for the fallen captain. Wind watches as she begins to whirl around him.
Her dance seems to last forever. But then, at last, she zips away and disappears.
Wind leans forward, holding his breath.
Abruptly, Warriors jolts upward coughing and gasping. He looks around the room, wildly, eyes wide and panicked. But they are blue as the Great Sea and full of the life he knows so well and Wind can feel nothing in that moment except joy and relief.
“Warriors!” He wraps his arms tightly around the captain, half to support him and half to cling to him. To remind himself he is still here, alive. That he is safe.
Warriors stiffens and pulls back, eyes roaming his body.
“Sailor,” he croaks in the voice that is so unmistakably his. “Are-are you alright? Did I hurt you?”
With a shaky smile, Wind drags him back into the hug. “I’m fine! Promise! Don’t worry about me.”
Warriors makes a sound like a half-sob. He shudders.
“I-I’m so, so sorry.”
The sailor shakes his head, viciously. “Don’t be! It wasn’t you.”
“But I should have…I could have fought…”
Time leans forward, setting a hand on both of their shoulders. Emboldened by his presence Wind sucks in a breath, nearly choking on tears.
“You did fight, captain! I saw you. You-you fought all you could!”
“There is nothing else you could’ve done,” Time adds, quietly. “The champion hasn’t known anyone to resist the pull of such evil, save for Flora. And it seems you continued to battle it for quite some time.”
Warriors doesn’t reply. He slumps, defeated, and Wind holds him tighter.
“I’m just glad you’re okay. I-I was really worried.” He raises his head to look Warriors in the face. “You…are okay now, right?”
There are tears running down Warriors’ pale cheeks, blood trickling from his mouth and various wounds Wind can see now that the malice is gone. But he cracks a broken smile.
“Yeah, I’m alright now, sailor. All thanks to you.”
#whumptober2023#no.4#“i see the danger it's written there in your eyes”#“you in there?”#linkeduniverse#fic#injury tw#blood tw#possession tw#mild body horror#trin writes#lu warriors#lu wind#angst#hurt/comfort#whump#it's finally here!!#i've been fighting to get this thing posted since this morning#but i'm sooo excited to get to share it with you now
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"Written There In Your Eyes"
Warnings: captivity, restraints, torture, electrocution, rescue
Whumpee's chest was heaving. They hadn't been able to get a good breath in for hours. Between the tightness of the metal chains around their chest and the repeated shocks with a cattle prod, Whumpee's bones buzzed, their chest ached, and they could think clearly.
And their heart was racing out of control.
"Why won't you just give me what I want?" Whumper had hissed minutes--hours?--ago.
Whumpee put everything into the smirk they threw Whumper. "Where's....the....fun...in...that?" It had taken all of their breath to get that sentence out, but the look on Whumper's face had been worth it.
They just needed to hold on a bit longer. They knew Caretaker was coming. The team was coming. They just had to hold on until the cavalry arrived. Just a bit longer.
Fortunately Whumper had left in a huff after Whumpee's comment. No doubt they were trying to calm themself down so they didn't kill Whumpee. They needed the information that Whumpee had.
Or so Whumper thought. Whumpee did not have the information. But they had lied, hoping it would lure Whumper out into the open and the team could catch them.
And Whumpee's plan had worked. Sort of. They just hadn't accounted for Whumper's determination to eliminate a threat with minimal effort. And taking Whumpee when they had been home alone sleeping had been their perfect opportunity.
Whumpee just focused on their breathing. Focused on trying to control their heartbeat. Focused on anything to keep themself awake. And alive.
Distant sounds of banging and a struggle came, but Whumpee couldn't focus enough to care. Whatever it was, threat or not, it would make itself known to them eventually.
A banging came on the door to their cell. If Whumpee had the energy they would have jumped. As it was, they barely lifted their head. "Whumpee? Whumpee? Are you in there?" Caretaker's voice was strained with worry.
Whumpee took as deep a breath as possible. "Here," they called weakly, hoping it was loud enough for Caretaker to hear.
"Whumpee?" Caretaker called again.
Whumpee closed their eyes, drawing on their remaining strength. Caretaker needed to hear them. "HERE!"
Caretaker threw the door open just as Whumpee slumped forward. "WHUMPEE!" Caretaker rushed forward, the team on their heels. "Talk to me, Whumpee. Talk to me."
"Y're......'ere," Whumpee whispered. They closed their eyes and swallowed. They held on. Caretaker was here. Caretaker found them.
"I'm here. I'm here. Hold on, Whumpee. Hold on a bit longer. Help is on the way." Caretaker nodded to Teammate One. "Get them out of these chains. I don't like their respiration rate."
Teammate One nodded and went to work while Teammate Two searched the room. "Boss," they said carefully as they found the modified cattle prod. "I think I know what's wrong with Whumpee."
That's good, Whumpee thought as the darkness that had been threatening to consume them inched ever closer. I can't breathe enough to speak.
"Got 'em," Teammate One said triumphantly as they unlocked the padlock on the coils of chains.
Whumpee sagged forward in the chains as their breath went out in a sigh. Finally.
Caretaker could hear Whumpee's rasping breaths becoming more and more irregular. As they looked at the cattle prod in Teammate Two's hand, their heart beat quickened. "We have no time to lose!" They scooped up the limp and pliable Whumpee into their arms and started to run. They wouldn't lose Whumpee now. Not after everything.
"Hold on, Whumpee, hold on," they murmured as they ran. "Hold on."
#serickswrites#whump#whumpblr#whump writing#whump community#tw captivity#tw restraints#tw torture#tw electrocution#rescue#whumptober#whumptober 2023#whumptober day 4#“i can see the danger written in your eyes”#prompt: cattle prod#prompt: shock#prompt: “you in there?”#queue
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Whumptober2023
No. 4: “I see the danger, It’s written there in your eyes.”
#whumptober2023#no 4#“I see the danger It’s written there in your eyes.”#stargate atlantis#gifs#sgaedit#Stargateedit#my creation#sga#Rodney and Sheppard#usergif#userstream#userlgbtq#pscentral#userbbelcher#tvgifs#john Sheppard#Rodney McKay
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Distant Visions
Hard prompt is hard.
Cross-posted on AO3 here: Distant Visions
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“Calling for help will get you nowhere, anyway. Don’t be a fool. Tell us where he is, and this won’t have to get messy.”
Joe Hills blinked open his eyes.
The room before him had been trashed. Broken pieces of porcelain and plastic lay scattered across the floor. Chairs are splintered and smashed, tossed haphazardly on top of a table shoved against a wall. There’s some sort of dark liquid dripping down the plaster, but it is impossible for him to tell what it could be.
It kind of looks like the safe house’s kitchen.
Men in suits were spread out to cover the place from corner to corner. They were glaring at a familiar figure standing at the room’s center. Joe recognized his friend Jevin. He was crouched down and tense, looking wildly around him at the people closing in from all sides. Clutched against his chest was a busted cell phone with a bullet hole through the screen.
Jevin rolled his eyes. “I feel bad for your parents if this isn't what you consider messy.” His tone was still full of the usual snark, but his voice cracked at the end. Joe can tell by the look on the others’ faces that they weren’t impressed.
“And you’re naive if you consider this a mess,” one snarled behind Jevin. The gun in his hand caught the light from a bare bulb in the ceiling.
“Enough.” The one who spoke first silenced his comrade with a swipe of his hand. “There’s no need for things to get any worse. This has nothing to do with you.” He tilted his head towards Jevin and raised both eyebrows. “All we want is your little friend. If you tell us where he is, we’ll leave you on your merry way.” He held out his hand as if hoping Jevin might reach out and take it.
But Jevin only smiled and shrugged, swatting away the hand held out to him like it was nothing more than an annoying bug. His eyes shifted back and forth as some of the people around him inched closer. “Sorry, but you already said it. This has nothing to do with me. I don’t know anything.” He crossed his arms with a smug smirk. “Absolutely nothing.”
Jevin and the man who seemed to be in charge stared each other down for a moment. Jevin leaned back, relaxed and confident as he held the grim gaze of the man in the suit. Each one dared the other to look away. Eventually, the other man broke eye contact first. He pivoted on the ball of his foot, leaving his back facing Jevin while he turned to address the others. “He’s not talking. We’ll never get anything out of him like this. Grab him and we’ll bring him back to make him talk.”
"As if, jerk!" Jevin's broken phone spiraled through the air and nailed the guy in the back of his head. There was a scream, and the whole room broke into chaos. Men in suits rushed at Jevin. Some still had guns out. They did not hesitate to swing them around in the hopes of throttling Joe’s friend.
Jeven swung his fists wildly. This wasn’t his first time in a fistfight. However, it was his first time in a fistfight so clearly stacked against him. A few punches managed to hit his attackers, but he was woefully outnumbered. They overpowered him in seconds, pinning him down to his knees and wrenching his arms out behind his back. Even then, Jevin wasn’t one to just roll over and let it happen. He continued to wriggle and buck, hoping to wrench himself free. “You’ll get nothing out of me. I don’t even know where they would go! He saw you coming and got out of dodge real fast.”
The guy in charge glared daggers down at him. He was still rubbing at the back of his head where Jevin’s phone had hit. “As if the subject would have left one of his little guard dogs behind without telling them where he was going.”
“He didn’t,” Jevin hissed. “I ran out before he could say anything to try and buy time. Even if I hadn’t, his future sight would have seen how things played out. They would know to go somewhere else.”
The man furrowed his brow. "So you're telling," he says slowly, enunciating each word with a chilling tone. "Is that you really are useless to us?"
Jevin clamped his mouth shut. Joe knew that Jevin had said too much. Joe could see in Jevin's face that his friend knew he had messed up as well.
"What do we do with him, then," another of the men asked.
"We lose the dead weight."
Jevin finally stopped struggling, eyes widening like a deer caught in headlights. They only got wider as the man in charge pulled his own gun out from the inner pocket of his suit jacket. He raised it slowly, the barrel tracing over the ground before arching up to aim directly at Jevin's forehead.
"W-wait… wait, WAIT! Wait a minute," Jevin is stuttering. He seemed to have shaken off his fear-fueled paralysis. He is once more back to desperately trying to claw at the wrists of the men pinning him down. "You said this doesn't have to get messy. You could just let me go."
The finger tightens around the trigger.
"PLEASE!"
Joe…? Joe, are you in there? Joe!
BANG!
Joe Hills blinked open his eyes.
He’s sitting at the kitchen table in the safe house. The morning sun was just visible outside the window, rising to meet another day. There's a fresh mug of tea cupped in his hands. Its warmth felt nice against his palms.
Cleo is sitting in a chair of her own across from him. She looks like she just crawled out of bed. Her bright orange hair was frizzy and tangled but pulled back into a lazy ponytail to keep all but a few too-short strands from falling in her face. She is still wearing her PJs too. At her side was a mug of her own she had been drinking from. Now it was placed to the side as she propped one elbow against the table and rested her cheek against her hand. Her head tilted curiously when she noticed that he was looking at her. "What did you see?"
Joe felt his throat seize up. It was such a simple question. He hated how loaded it became whenever it was directed at him. How is he supposed to answer something like that? The sound of that gunshot was still ringing in his ears. He couldn’t find it in himself to try to explain, so instead he decided to focus on the swirling surface of his tea. Tears were already starting to burn at the corners of his eyes.
"Oh, Joe…" A teardrop falls into his mug. Warm fingers wrap around his wrist and gently squeeze. He can just make out Cleo’s chipped black nail polish from the edges of his vision. Her voice is soft and comforting. It’s measured and sad and understanding as she asks, “Is it time to start packing up?”
He manages a nod because he doesn’t trust his voice not to crack if he tries to speak. It was. The sooner the better. This safe house had served its purpose up until now, but something had changed. Their location was known, or about to be found out very soon.
Clea sighed. She pushed back her chair and stood up. “Right. Let me get dressed. Hey, JEVIN!”
The couch in the other room creaked as their friend shot awake. There was an incoherent shout. Joe could make out the other man’s arms flailing. A blanket fluttered over the side of the armrest. Shortly after, a bleary-eyed Jevin poked his head up over the back of the couch. “Whuh?! What happened? Did we win?”
“No,” Cleo said, with a tone that held a hint of annoyance. “I don’t know what you were dreaming about, but we did not win.”
“Oh… ok.” And just like that, Jevin closed his eyes and flopped back down into the couch. Joe held back a snort of laughter. Despite the tears trailing from his eyes, it was a relief to see that Jevin was still very much the same Jevin he always was, safe and happy and none the wiser to what Joe had just seen.
And when Cleo huffed and started stomping towards the couch, Joe even smiled. It all felt so normal when the situation was anything but.
“Oh no you don’t, Jev. None of that.” She reached over the arm of the couch and roughly shook the sleeping man by his shoulder. “Joe just saw the future again. That government group is on its way.”
Joe groaned, not even opening his eyes. “Again?”
“Yes again,” Cleo snapped. “So wake up.”
“Ugh, fine. But only for Joe. Not for you. I need my beauty sleep.”
“I’m sure.” Cleo’s tone was all sarcasm as she turned away. Behind her, Jevin was rolling out of the couch cushions with immense difficulty. “We should have some time to pack our bags, and if someone knocks on the front door we can have Jevin answer it. I trust him to handle himself in a fight more than I trust either of us.”
Joe nearly slammed his mug down on the tabletop. “NO!” His sudden outburst scared her so badly, she somehow managed to freeze in place and jump out of her skin. Jevin leaned out from behind her, his face blank and blinking slowly as if unable to process what just happened. Considering he had just woken up, he probably couldn’t. “Sorry…” Joe said sheepishly, shrinking into himself. He found himself hunkering his shoulders against the growing intensity of Cleo’s glare. “I mean, if there’s a knock on the door, nobody should answer. Especially not Jevin. In fact, I would go so far as to say it would be best if we made sure Jevin stayed with us at all times.”
Both Cleo and Jevin shared a knowing look. “Ok!” She clapped her hands together once. “So the potential bad future you saw involved Jevin. Noted. Now to make sure that doesn’t happen. Come on boys. If we have time later, we can reheat that tea for you, Joe.”
“Yeah,” Joe said, letting go of his mug. He dried the tears with the back of his shirt sleeve. “That’s fair.”
Joe lets her shoo him off to his room to get changed and get ready. The safe house became a flurry of activity as clothes and personal possessions were stuffed into backpacks. Honestly, there’s not much to pack between the three of them. Just what they could carry on their backs. That’s what a life constantly on the run will do to you. Eventually, you just have to pare down your belongings to the stuff you need, and what matters most. A cooler was packed with some of the non-perishable food left in the cupboards. Not too full, though. It can’t be too heavy to carry for long distances. Even then, there’s a chance they may just have to drop it and run.
Jevin popped his head into Joe’s room as he’s folding his clothes into his pack. “Hey Joe, any clue when your vision is supposed to take place?”
“Sort of. The details were a little fuzzy on this one. Maybe half an hour from now? Forty-five minutes?”
“Dang, that fast? Ok, then I guess I’m ready then. That place I’m working at will figure out I’ve quit when I don’t show up for work.”
“Sorry man,” Joe says, feeling his heart sink a little.
Jevin just waves him off. “No worries. It was just a temp job anyway.”
In fifteen minutes, the three of them are all packed up and standing at the back door.
“We each have all our things, right,” Cleo asked as Joe slid open the screen door. She slipped outside first as he held it open. “I’m not going behind you two and checking if you forgot anything.”
Joe shook his head. “I’m good.”
“Me too.”
“Good. Then what about water bottles?”
Joe held his out before sliding it into the mesh pocket on the side of his pack. Jeven just motioned towards the canister hanging from his belt loop.
“Perfect. And I’ve got the food. That’s everything. Let’s be off.”
They all started walking out of the back alley of the safe house. Jevin hung back a few steps, looking uncertain. “And where exactly are we off to?” he asked. “I don’t recall anyone mentioning the plan.”
Cleo tilted her head in Joe’s direction. “Just follow him for now.”
“There’s a train that’s about to pass through town with sliding door rail cars. If we can jump on when it passes through, it will take us far, far away."
"How do you know about that? Was that part of what you saw this morning?"
"No. I just looked up the local train schedules on my phone while you were getting ready."
"He may have weird powers, but he can still use the internet like the rest of us," Cleo half scolded, half teased.
Jevin rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure, sorry. Excuse me for not having everything all figured out. It's not like I literally just woke up or anything." He reached out to playfully smack Cleo's shoulder. She swatted him back, and all three broke out in snickers.
It was a sweet moment. Joe appreciated how they could make light of the situation so easily. He wished things could be different. That it could always be like this.
“You know, you guys don’t have to keep going like this if you don’t want to,” Joe found himself saying. He felt so small saying it out loud. They seemed so much larger than life when they laughed like this. But he had their attention now. “I’m the one who has weird powers and can see into the future. It’s me they want. Not you guys. You guys are normal. You don’t have to keep coming with me.”
“Don’t be silly.” Cleo’s voice is scathing and full of love. A sort of tone only Cleo could pull off, really. “Of course we do. Who else will keep you out of trouble?”
“Me…?” Joe offered with a shrug.
That got another laugh out of both of them.
Jevin patted his shoulder. “Relax, man. Friends watch out for each other. If one of us were being hunted down by the government, you’d do the same.” Joe would. He already kind of was. Jevin must have seen a hint of reluctance in his face. “It’s not your fault, Joe. Right, Cleo?”
“Right. We want to be here for you. We want to help you. Let us do that. We’re all just a bunch of hermits now anyway. A bit of hermits helping hermits never hurt anyone.”
Gosh, Joe had such great friends. He sniffed, already feeling the tears coming on once more. “Awww,” his voice wavered. “You guys…”
Joe grabbed a handful of Cleo’s sleeve and Jevin’s hoodie and pulled them in close. They wrapped him and each other up in their arms in one big group hug. As far as Joe was concerned, this was the best thing ever, and he was glad to be sharing it with the best people ever.
The moment was short-lived at the sound of angry knocking. It sounded like someone was pounding on a door. It also sounded close. Really close. Like, on the other side of the building close.
The three friends separated and hunkered closer to the wall in a panic. “We weren’t fast enough,” Joe hissed. “That must be them. They’re already here.”
Jevin rolled his shoulders, shrugging off his pack so he could lower it to the ground. “I’ll go back and talk to them. See if I can buy you two some time to get out of here.”
Joe’s breath caught in his lungs. Oh no. It was happening. Joe already saw how this scenario ended, and he reached out for Jevin before the man could make a break for it. Before Jevin can slip away, though, Cleo grabs his arm and pulls. “Oh no you’re not,” she hissed under her breath. “The three of us are sticking together and sneaking out the back.”
“But they’re not after me,” Jevin tried to reason with her as she shoved his bag back into his arms. “And I can handle myself in a fight if things go south.”
“I don’t care. We’re going. Now.” Cleo’s word is final. Jevin doesn’t make any further attempts to go back. Instead, he silently follows her over a chain link fence.
Joe’s glad she got the message loud and clear when he said Jevin shouldn’t answer the door. He could always count on her. On the other side of the fence, he patted Jevin on the back. “If it makes you feel better, I’m much more comfortable knowing you’re here with us than if you were back there trying to buy us time.”
#whumptober 2023#prompt no. 4#“I see the danger it's written there in your eyes”#“you in there?”#minecraft: hermitcraft#hermitcraft#creative writing#gun violence#implied character death#joe hills#zombiecleo#ijevin#alternate universe - modern setting#government conspiracy#on the run#future visions#everyone is your average human except one character
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WHUMPTOBER day 4:
Prompt: "I see the danger, it's written there in your eyes."
Sana Bir Sır Vereceğim 16. Bölüm
#whumptober2023#no.4#i see the danger it's written there in your eyes#Sana Bir Sır Vereceğim#gifs#berk cankat#turkish#turkish series#whump#male whump#mind control#pain#passing out#waking up#confused#headache
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