#my mother enjoys bringing that up to torture me a lot
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Alastor Head-cannons (SFW & NSFW)
SFW
Listened to music a lot with his mother when he was a boy, and occasionally you'll catch him singing. He's still got the voice of an angel despite being a demon.
"Splendid!" "Old friend" His old dialect reminds you he grew up in the 20s- 1920s. You've tried teaching him modern slang but it just doesn't sound right coming from him. His eyebrows furrow when you laugh, "Was what I said funny? Do tell, I'd love a good laugh."
Still brushes his teeth and is intense when it comes to dental hygiene. Don't let the yellow fool you, it's just the new natural color. In general, he's very hygienic. He has a strict shower routine, skin care routine, don't even get him started on his hair routine. Condition, shampoo, rinse, condition again- the list goes on and on. You tried Spa Day with him once, it was more stressful than relaxing.
His hair is naturally curly but he straightens it for a "stronger" look. He thought if he kept his curls he'd be less intimidating, Charlie saw his hair wet once and wouldn't stop trying to pet him.
Will periodically check on Husk and when he can't will send Husk's favorite liquor. He's soulless, not heartless. He does tease Husk on occasion about his friendship with Angel, it's not every day he sees the cat so flustered.
Loves veal. You've walked in on him feasting on Elk and when you backed away he simply raised a brow. "Would you like to join me? There's more than enough to share." He didn't show it, but he was bummed when you politely declined.
Loner but loves company from those he's close with. When he's alone for too long he thinks a little too much on a past he can't erase. Times like this will make him force himself outside to stroll through hell. He's not an imp, he doesn't have to worry about being attacked. You on the other hand? Not so much. When you join him for strolls, he'll keep you beside him and away from the thrashed roads. "Stay close, I'd hate to see you hurt." You think he's oblivious to how buttery smooth his words are at times, little do you know he's been watching every change in your face from your flushed cheeks to your pursed lips. He smirks to himself, knowing he's caught you off guard.
Calls you annoying names when you're grumpy like "Sourpuss". When you glare at him he just flashes that annoying grin.
Owns a lot of other souls besides Husk's and will occasionally sneak up on them just to catch them off guard. He enjoys a good power trip, brings him back to the good ol' days. Kills just don't feel the same now, what a shame.
Not a fan of physical touch. Don't even touch his suit if you're a stranger. He's a bit more lenient with those he considers friends like Rosie and Charlie, and you- but you're a special case. Maybe it's because you asked before doing something as little as fix his bowtie. He didn't know his heart still had that kind of beat, he decided not to dwell on it. "I must be thinking too hard again, I should keep myself busy."
His ears and eyebrows express his actual emotions. He doesn't seem to notice it, but you've caught him writing with his ears down and brows in a U-shape. It's almost like he's pouting, but when you ask his face returns to that empty smile again. "Hm? Oh, yes I'm fine. Just sorting some script troubles for the next broadcast."
He's not used to accepting help, only giving it. When you cheerfully ask beg to help with scripting he can't find a proper way to say no, at least that's what he tells himself. You end up being more of a distraction and he has to push the broadcast back a few days. When you apologize he just smiles wider- you didn't think it could get any wider but it did. "Nothing to apologize for, my Dear. I enjoyed our time together."
Takes his deals seriously as most overlords do. You've witnessed brutal killings, the way his pupils morph when he's torturing a toy. He'll casually wave if he sees you watching. "Enjoy the show, Darling~"
Wakes up at the asscrack of dawn just to be awake. He also wakes everyone in the hotel up with his alarm- which is just a lord recording of himself singing some Jazz song he seems to adore. He won't apologize, but he'll have coffee prepared for everyone.
Doesn't like sweet coffee and is offended when he sips any, glaring at you like you've handed him a cup of shit. "Are you plotting? Why do you make this...Nevermind." He'll be grumpy the rest of the day, voice a low growl and smile a bit sinister.
Likes to Gamble, he's already in hell, what else is there to lose? He makes big bets, the biggest being a tooth from his precious smile. When you tried to warn him about the dealer helping the other player cheat he just winked at you. Before cards could even be shown, both were dead. "I've ruined another good suit" is all he says as if he hadn't just ripped the heads off of two demons.
He used to be dependent on his glasses when he was alive, he was uncomfortable without having them in hell which is why he has the monocle now. He doesn't need it, just makes him feel secure.
His radio voice lags sometimes and he'll simply refuse to talk until it's stable again. You're the only one allowed to taunt him about it without waking up surrounded by acid.
Lets you call him Al, and when Rosie asks him about it his smile closes into a strong squeeze of his lips. He hasn't escaped the teasing from her or anyone else in the Hotel who's noticed. If someone says anything while you're around, they better pray their deal comes with protection. "I suggest you keep your mouth closed." is the only warning given.
Likes strategy games so when you show him modern ones like battleship he's over the moon. He ends up with a board game collection thanks to you since you bring a new one over whenever you're invited to his broadcast station.
"Y/N, Darling, I have a bit of a favor to ask..." and you know you're about to go through hell- well, more of it. His favors always involve hunting someone attempting to break a deal, and most of the hunts are just you tagging along to watch him bloody his hands. At least he looks good in red.
He was quiet when he first met you, now that he's comfortable around you all he does is talk. Eventually he even picks up on your compliments and returns them and then- well, it just sort of happened.
Had no clue how to actually romance. He spent his life fulfilled from killing, not chasing love. After consulting Rosie and Charlie (mistake one, they both teased him shamelessly. It's not every day you see a flustered overlord). He tries pick-up lines but they always come out as jokes, and while your laugh is adorable he can't help but be annoyed. "Surely wooing a woman isn't this difficult, prehaps another method..."
Alastor's love language is gifts but not just materialistic ones. He knows what you like and he makes sure to get you it. You've opened your door to a bloody Alastor cheerfully holding a container of freshly-harvested organs, offering to cook them for you- his way of inviting you over for dinner. He's so excited you can't turn him down, and if you close your eyes you manage to convince yourself you're just eating chicken. He learns how to make your favorite dishes after seeing you forefeed yourself for his sake, and from then on makes them for you when you join him for dinner.
"Do not tell anyone about..." He doesn't know what to call the two of you, the traditional term felt a bit too intense. You know what he means, and although you don't understand it you agree. It's not that he's embarrassed, he knows you'll become a target if others find out too much. He also has a reputation to maintain. Unfortunately, the two of you are painfully obvious.
Adores holding you, especially when he's too busy to give you proper attention. You'll sit in his lap and watch him work, telling him when to take breaks. Sometimes the two of you will read together, his head on your shoulder and nodding when he wants you to turn the page.
Tried to figure out how to kiss you while smiling. You couldn't stop laughing so he gave up and stormed off to sulk. He was expecting you to just sneak up behind him but when you stood on your toes to kiss him, his smile faltered and his face flushed almost as red as his hair. "Y/N, get back here!"
NSFW (Most tame NSFW Head-cannon I've written because he's definetly slow to warm up)
Favorite petnames for you are Honey, Darling, and Sweetness. Sometimes he'll slip up and call you by a petname while around friends or in public. Unlike him, you can't mask your face with a smile and his falters when your friends stare.
He's clingy in public as if staying secret wasn't his idea. He keeps an arm around your waist, fingers intertwined with yours. If someone stares a little too long he'll strike a tentacle at them and they'll run off.
Speaking of the tentacles he seems to sprout, he likes to tease you with them. He'll lightly strike your legs when you're walking to get your attention just to turn away and do something else. He'll sneak up behind you and have a tentacle tilt your chin up so he can kiss you, then quickly leave. He's always in such a hurry, mostly to go peek into his chest and make sure his heart hasn't exploded.
His kisses get bolder as time passes, teeth grazing your lips hesitantly until you pull him closer. Soon he's comfortable enough to slip his tongue in, grip your hair, groan against your lips. These kisses turn into sloppy makeouts that leave your lips kiss swollen and slick between your legs. "We should get back to the group," he says it casually as he licks his lips.
You're needy, he knows, he can practically smell it- he just isn't sure what to do about it. This is something he definitely can't ask Rosie about, so he decides to observed you until he figures out. He didn't think you'd mind him being in your closet or under your bed, listening to you and your toys. You catch him once, face burning as you scramble to cover yourself. "Stay as you are, continue, please- I'm learning quite a bit."
You catch him attempting to file his nails down the next day but they seem to sprout back in seconds. He's irritated, you can tell by the antlers growing on his head. You tell him he could just use his tongue but he insists on doing it exactly how he saw you. You wither under him, hiding your face in a pillow. "You're quite tight, how am I supposed to fit anything when I can barely fit a finger, hm?" He teases, pecking your forehead. He does get curious and decides to have a small taste that leads to him eating you out, tongue buried inside you as he holds your hole open. It must feel good the way you're gripping his hair and antlers, trying to steady yourself as you rock against his face.
You didn't bring up going all the way, you wanted him to initiate it since you weren't sure what exactly his boundaries were. You expected him to bashfully confess his fantasies, instead you heard a knock on your door and then your body thudding against the mattress as he ravaged your mouth. He slams the door closed with a tentacle before ripping away clothes, eyes narrow and focused. His radio voice is gone, his raw desperation showing as he rams into you. "Dammit Darling, I tried to wait...but I've grown impatient. You don't mind, do you?" and when you shake your head no he knows he doesn't have to hold back. Wonderful.
He lets himself get pent up, refusing to let you touch him. At first you worry that you've done something wrong, but he pats your head and says "Y/N, I'll handle it myself." When you look at him with those eyes he can't hide his hunger, and he caves.
Rough? No, he's just passionate. He can't always say how he feels but he knows how to show it. Fingers intertwined with yours, tongues tangled as he stuffs you full. Part of why he lets himself get so pent up is because he loves how it feels releasing it all at once, the way you cry out and clench around him. He doesn't stop until he's fucked you silly, until his voice is static-less.
Rambles when he's close, from "Such a pretty thing, sucking me like this" to incoherent growls and grunts, he's vocal. When he's thrusting into you only his words are gentle, sweet praises like "Good, Good...you can take it~" echoing in your head as he holds it up by your hair.
He likes leaving bitemarks along your body but only where they can be seen. Good luck hiding the one on your wrist, and the one under your chin is exposed whenever you look up. Of course no one dares to mention it, but he gets a kick out of everyone knowing you're his- enemies and reputation be damned.
Like my writing? Check out my Ao3!! Reblogs appreciated!! I have an ongoing Alastor x Reader fic right now that updates weekly! This was actually a little warmup to get the writing going lol
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Hey! Thank you a lot for your works, I literally want to kiss your hands!!
Here’s my request: Simon’s reaction that reader uses toys. Like now reader has him and why’s she still using them. That’s kinda a main idea
English is not my mother tongue so I hope you’ll understand what I meant 👉🏻👈🏻
Thank you so so much!! Your feedback means the WORLD to me <333 Hope you enjoy!
🎀Let me be your fuck toy, darling🎀
Simon Riley x Fem Reader !!
NSFW!!! MDNI
Fem anatomy used
WC: 1.5K
Enjoy babies 💗
It had been exactly one week since Simon slept in your apartment for the first time. It had taken him a while to get comfortable enough to sleep in someone else's home, but you didn't once think of blaming him. The stuff he'd been through would drive the devil himself to tears. You understood why he was nervous about letting his guard down. So when he finally fell asleep on your couch for the first time, you jumped up in joy, snapped a picture of him and hopped around your apartment happily. You sat on the floor in front of the couch, watching him as he snored, his balaclava still snug on his head.
Nowadays, he slept over more often than not. He would sleep in your bed, an arm wrapped around your waist, or a hand stuffed in between the warmth of your thighs. This often led to you staying up way past your bedtime, wishing he'd wake up and just start fingering the life out of you. He knew that this made you horny. He knew that the lack of friction drove you insane, that it would keep you from sleeping. You cursed him as he slept like a baby while you suffered.
So you did what any girl would do. You went through your nightstand, pulling out the vibrator you purchased months before you and Simon met. You stuffed your fingers in your mouth, bringing them down to your cunt as you slid your panties off with the other hand. You kept your eyes on a shirtless Simon as he snored, his hair disheveled and sprawled all over his forehead. You took note of the balaclava next to his pillow, smiling at how he'd gotten more comfortable sleeping with it off. As you spread your legs open, you switch the vibrator on, slipping it between your slick folds, resting it on your clit. The sudden stimulation causes you to jerk, letting out a soft yelp. You hadn't used it in some time, being that Simon was your go-to for pleasure. But he was torturing you, and you couldn't sleep until you let go of the tension. You cover your mouth with your free hand, your breathing shaky as you feel the nerves of your clit electrify with the vibrations. You needed to cum fast, the toy wasn't the quietest. You didn't know how Simon would react knowing you used a vibrator without him knowing. And you didn’t want to find out. You closed your eyes, imagining you and Simon together, your legs wrapped around his waist as he slams into you repeatedly. You imagine his moans and guttural groans, as they usually turned you on so much and helped you reach your orgasm. You smile as the scenario plays out in your head. You start bucking your hips slowly, moaning quietly into your hand as you feel your core begin to tighten and the toy turning slippery with your slick.
Your heart drops as you feel a strong hand grab yours, squeezing your wrist so hard your fingers drop the vibrator. He grabs it, turning it around in his free hand. It's shiny with your slick, the smell of you wafting off of it. He's sitting up on his knees now, staring down at your face. You can tell by the blankness in his eyes that he was pissed. More than pissed, he was utterly enraged. Simon had a traditional way of viewing sex. He didn't think you needed toys because you had him. And (big surprise), he's a dominant man who expected you to be patient and wait for him to please you. But you couldn't.
He looked down at the vibrator in his hand, scoffing quietly to himself. He lets go of your wrist, the stinging pain incapacitating your entire arm for a slight moment. You stare up at him, your breathing picking up in nervousness as he keeps quiet. He reaches down, gripping your jaw so hard your muscles instinctively react, your jaw now hanging open wide. He smiles devilishly, bringing his other hand up to your face. He waves the vibrator in front of your face, sliding it under your nose so you smell yourself on it. He chuckles lowly, his gruff voice sexing your ears. He suddenly shoves the vibrator in your mouth, rubbing your slick off on your tongue as you squirm under him. His grip on your jaw grew stronger as you whined and squirmed, not letting up on you. His smile ran a chill down your spine. He was staring at you, a glint of predatory hunger in his eyes.
“Tsk tsk. Such a desperate little whore. Couldn’t even wait for me to wake up.” He growled. You squirm under his grip, whining as he pushed the vibrator further down your throat. You gag, your eyes rolling back into your head as the taste of yourself swirls on your tongue. He removes the vibrator from your mouth, painfully slow. Your eyes tear as he does this, a grin on his lips as the tears fall down your face. You cough, your breathing becoming heavier as he stares down at you pitifully. He shakes his head as he chuckles, leaning down to your face. He crashes his lips with yours, hungrily biting your lip. He doesn’t let go, bringing his teeth down harder on your bottom lip. You feel him reach down, parting your legs with a strong hand. The taste of his saliva mixes with the taste of your slick, an erotic aroma lingering between the both of you. Your head burns with white hot pain as he bites down on your lip, causing you to whine out in pain. He brings a palm up, slamming it down on your thigh. You feel the sting linger, your head throbbing with misery. He lets go of your lip and backs away, a string of saliva connecting you to him. He leans back on his knees, stroking himself through his boxers as he watches you squirm. He holds your thigh down with a death grip, his fingers digging into your skin. He groans, throwing his head back as he begins taking his boxers off. You watch him, your mind aching with a mix of fear, and arousal. He never failed to make you wet just by the mere sight of him naked. You squeeze your thighs together, looking up at him through your lashes.
“Like what you see, love?” He chuckles, moving himself between your legs once more. You notice the vibrator next to you, still glistening with saliva. He looks between you and the vibrator, a devilish smile on his face. He grabs it before you can react, switching it on. He turns it around in his hand, bringing it up to his mouth. He licks a stripe over it, coating it in his saliva. He smirks as he brings it down to your clit, a jolt running through your core as he slides it between your folds. The warmth of his saliva makes you buck your hips instinctively. You close your eyes, shame coursing through your veins. You suddenly feel him slide the toy down, slipping it inside of you. You cry out, your eyes squeezing shut tighter. “Look. At. Me.” He demanded. “I don’t care how ashamed you are.” Your eyes fly open, struggling to stabilize your vision as the vibrations graze your spongy G-spot. You moan out, your gaze connecting with his. He smirks down at you, bringing the vibrator back up to your clit. Your hips buck upwards, squirming under him as he moves himself closer between your legs. You feel the warm tip of his cock line up with your hole, shamelessly pushing its way into you. Your head swirls with pleasure, the two sources of stimulation causing your core to bubble instantly. You moan softly, bucking your hips forward.
“Fuck. So fuckin’ tight, lovie,” He groans, pushing his throbbing length into you. He starts to thrust, holding the vibrator against your clit steady.
“What makes you think you can use these useless fuckin’ toys when I’m layin’ right. Fucking. There.” He grunts, thrusting into you with every syllable of his words. You mewl under him, squirming and mumbling nonsense as beads of sweat start to appear on your forehead. He presses the vibrator into your clit harder, expecting you to answer him.
“ ‘m sorry Simon. ‘m so sorry.” You whine. Your walls pulse and warm with every thrust, the vibrator causing your orgasm to conjure instantly. “n-need you…just your cock Simon…please, ‘m sorry.”
“Atta girl.” Simon groans, turning the vibrator off, and tossing it to the floor. You breathe heavily as you come down from your orgasm. He leans down, his breath searing your ear.
“Let me be your fuck toy, darling.”
#ghost mw2#ghost x reader#ghost#ghost cod#simon riley headcanons#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost x you#simon riley x reader#simon riley x y/n#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x fem reader#simon riley#simon riley fanfic#simon ghost rileyt smut#simon ghost riley fanfiction#ghost smut
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Hello Carina!
I absolutely ADORE your works
I'm hooked
Was wondering if you could do Geto/Nanami/Gojo/Sukuna x fem reader who grew up in a toxic household that encouraged bad eating habits like eating extremely small amounts and tried to always make her a good and docile wife. But she left them and is now pretty successful but her eating habits are still pretty bad
Please stay hydrated this summer!
A lot of you guys request stuff like bad heating habits from me and I'm actually a little scared that I receive a shit storm for writing these sensitive topics, but there you go! I decided on Geto since he is the sweetest boy ever but if this goes well and some of you guys show interest, I might write something similar for the other characters as well - enjoy <3
Geto encouraging his girlfriend to eat more after growing up in a toxic household
Pairing: Geto x fem!reader
Word Count: 1,6k
Synopsis: After your toxic parents tried to force you into their picture of a thin and docile wife, you left them as soon as possible and became the best version of yourself - if it wasn't for your bad eating habits still haunting you down when you're out with your boyfriend. Until he decides to have a talk with you...
Warnings: Just let me tell you right from the start that there's nothing wrong with being thin and I hope it's obvious that we're talking about an unhealthy connotation in this fic, if you get triggered when it comes to toxic parents and hurtful phrases regarding weight please don't read this. In general, this contains sensitive content and a few pieces of ED and harsh language, but our boy Geto telling us how much he loves us the way we are
„You know you are totally able to eat more than that, right? We’ve been out without any food for hours now, you need to care for yourself, love.”
Suguru’s hand gently caresses your back while you stare at the salad you just ordered.
“You’re gonna look like a pig soon if you don’t stop eating like one, (y/n). Didn’t I teach you a lady needs to watch her diet?”
“No man wants a fat woman, trust me.”
“Thank you so much for looking out for me. I’m good”, you mutter after shaking their cruel words off your mind.
You can’t bring yourself to catch a glimpse at his comforting brown eyes, not when your guilty conscience almost eats you up alive. The stinging words of your mother and father haunt you until this day. Even though you left years ago and started your very own life away from their toxic household, even though your precious boyfriend Geto Suguru is the living proof for them being wrong.
Just one look at the salad in front of you paired with your memory is enough to feel like in your childhood all over again.
“Hey, look at me honey.”
Gently, his hand caresses your cheek and lifts your head into his direction. There they are, his oh so loving orbs, his tender smile that warms your stinging heart in an instant.
“We’ve been together for a year now and you still seem to be upset when you have to eat around me. I can’t help but wonder why you torture yourself. Is it because of me, did I give you the feeling you aren’t good the way you are? Because I love you with all my heart.”
You never allowed yourself to cry in front of someone else. To be exact, you stopped when you were greeted by nothing but harsh words from your parents with every tear that ran down your cheek. You are supposed to be a good and hostile woman, the perfect little wife for some wealthy man your parents already decided on when you were still 10. A woman that doesn’t speak as much as you do, a woman who doesn’t eat as much as you do. A feminine angel walking on earth with the only purpose to say yes and amen to her beloved husband.
When you were finally old enough to leave them behind, you packed your things and joined jujutsu high. Life is easier around here with so many beloved friends by your side who support and truly love you. Yes, they showed you how good you are, that you are independent and are allowed to have your own opinion, that it’s okay to say no. Yes, you even started to eat a little more and gained a healthy amount of weight and well-formed muscles.
They were wrong. Your parents were so wrong with everything they taught you. But this…
You bite your lip when a sub escapes from deep down your throat, hot tears now stinging in your eyes so violently that you can’t catch your breath. Eating has always been your weakness, the one and only thing you can’t fully control until this day. Their words still crush you every time you order something to eat.
What if Suguru doesn’t find you attractive when you gain even more weight?
What if he thinks it’s disgusting to see you eat like a pig?
What if he’ll fall out of love when you show him that you aren’t as perfect as a doll?
“I’m so sorry. The last thing I want is to see you cry”, he instantly speaks out, wrapping his much-needed arms around you so tightly that you sink into his broad chest.
“It’s just…I’m afraid to eat more…”, you finally blurt out.
A part of your heart flutters in relief when those words finally leave your mouth. For more than a year, you simply forced yourself through the aching of your stomach, the hunger that kept you awake when Suguru laid next to you fast asleep. All because of their cruel words. All because they made you believe your whole life you aren’t good enough if you eat “too much”.
“You don’t feel comfortable eating around me, don’t you?”
You simply nod against his chest, too ashamed to lift your head. How embarrassing to hear those words leaving his lips, that he already knows why you’re acting this way.
“May I ask why? Did I say or do something that makes you feel this way, love?”
Your head starts spinning. The sheer thought that he might think your strange behaviour is his fault, that he did something wrong is ridiculous in your eyes.
“Absolutely not. It’s…It’s…”
Why is it so damn hard to find the right words? You stutter like an idiot for what feels like ages while listening to Suguru’s steady heartbeat. He knows how rough your childhood was, that your parents treated you like the dirt underneath their feet. You were never good enough, never pretty enough, never smart enough. Until you became a well-known and rich jujutsu sorcerer with a charismatic man like Geto Suguru by your side.
“See? I told you you will find a wealthy man if you keep up with our education, daughter.”
“All because we taught you everything you know and kept you in shape!”
“No”, you replied immediately, straightening your shoulders while facing the people who made your life living hell for more than enough years.
“I did all of this by myself. Because I chose to be the person I am instead of the person you wanted me to be.”
“They always told me I’m too much, that eating in front of my man is strictly forbidden. I was supposed to be a thin and docile wife.”
Your voice is nothing but a far away whisper. All those nights your father scolded you when you weighted more than you did before. How your mother screamed at you when your curves start to develop through puberty, how disgusted they looked at you when you wore shorts or ate next to them. Deep within, you know how toxic your eating habits are despite the positive changes you’ve been through. But still…Just the thought of eating a cheeseburger in front of Suguru fills you with so much disgust that your guts turn immediately.
“You aren’t docile but strong and stubborn. You aren’t only thin but strong and athletic. Your body is capable of so much more than simply being thin, (y/n). You are perfect in every single way, your body allows you to fight so well that even Satoru admires your skills. You are so breathtakingly beautiful that I could stare at you all day…I am glad you didn’t follow their rules, that you didn’t turn into the good and docile wife they wanted you to be. Because you became so much more. Because you can do so much more. But for that, you need to fuel your body the way it deserves it even when I’m around. I love to see you eat, I love to see you happy and healthy. And I know how hard it can be to overcome things you were taught from a young age. Would you promise me something?”
Now you can’t help but lift up your head, staring at him through your wet lashes. His words, his oh so sweet words still linger through your mind and force your cheeks to turn bright pink. Is this really how Suguru feels about you, are you really enough for him just the way you are?
Why wouldn’t you? After all, he was the one choosing you.
“What?”, you mumble.
“Promise me that we will work this out. If you can’t bring yourself to open up to me, please consider checking up with Shoko or another professional. I admire you for all the things you’ve already did, that you were actually able to turn into a wonderful woman with that horrible family. I’d love to hang out with you while eating chips, I’d love to eat a whole lot of unhealthy junk food and sweets with you without you worrying about my thought. Because the only thing I care about is that you’re happy. And you being healthy and eating properly means happiness.”
That smile. That oh so bright smile that reaches his brown eyes and lifts up your mood immediately. Oh, you truly don’t deserve him. A new wave of fresh tears threatens to spill over your eyes and begins to take your sight.
But those aren’t tears of sorrow. No, those are tears of pure joy and love.
You throw yourself around his neck before he’s able to catch you properly, causing both of you to almost fall off his chair.
“I will”, you mutter against his ear.
“I promise I will work on it.”
“I’m more than glad to hear that”, he replies softly while caressing your hair.
“Would you like to order something else in addition to your salad, then?”
You let go of Suguru with a small smile, holding his hands tightly as your heart overflows with love. The man who showed you what you’re capable of, who supports you through anything. Sooner or later, you will be able to share food dates with him and enjoy them. But until then…
“I’m fine for today. But next time, I might order something else.”
“Fine. Just let me know when you’re ready, (y/n).”
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YANDERE!knight x PRINCESS!reader
you could tell I'm in love with royal stories?
warinings// alot of skipping times,mentions of a
k!$$,reader is an illegitimate daughter,one bad word
reference;you,y/n,your highness,my lady,her
"curse" "pathetic" "shame"
you've heard those words alot in your life.
You were an illegitimate daughter of the king,The result of a forbidden relationship,A reminder to the queen of her husband's cheat.
your biology mother has died when she gave birth to you and your father,the king,has taken care of you ever since.
he has been nice to you,He didn't differentiate between you and your sister at all,he was giving you everything you need everything you want,like you were a real royal figure.
but it was.
when the king died everything has changed
the queen has treated you like shit,well she didn't make you become a servant or smth,she always said she didn't want to see your face so that's why.
but you've been alone,no one dared to talk to you.
your "sister" didn't say anything about you or treating you wrong she simply...act like you never been there.
yeah everyone was calling you "princess",respecting you.
the servants kept serving you(even though they won't talk to you),you had your own garden even!
but to be all alone between a lot of people was torturing.
so you were visiting the village/city every week. everyone adored you.
you were so kind, gentle, you were...angelic.
you could hear gossiping in the halls as you walk
talking about a personal knight for the princess,your sister.
You laughed internally,praying for whoever that person was. your sister was...a bit grumpy, you've never interacted with her before though.
as you were heading to your favorite place,your garden,you saw your sister heading somewhere and that usual frown on her face.
there was a big man behind her,wearing armored clothes.
he looked at you from the corner of his eye,you waved at him with a smile.
ignore
oh yeah,of course.the queen has warned him from you,like everyone else.
you sighed as you continou your way.
8 P.M.
you wasn't a fan of social interactions or gatherings.
but here you are sitting in the corner. there was ball,everyone was noisy, dancing and drinking.
you were far from everyone, just sitting in the corner drinking your drink in peace.
untill you hear footsteps coming your way,you swear if it was someone want to dance with you too you're going to snap out-
"sorry for interrupting you,your highness" someone talked in a firm tone
you look up to see...your sister personal knight??
"i think it's a bit dangerous for you to sit all alone here,anyone could take advantage from this situation"
you place your drink down and smile
"don't worry I'm capable to defend myself"
"forgive me,your highness, i didn't mean to offend you or something, i just thought it would be right to tell you."
"it's okay you didn't say something wrong"
....
there was an awkward silent
"want a drink?" you broke the silent
"i don't have the right to want anything while I'm in your presence,your highness"
how could he answer so quickly-
"don't be like that...it's a ball for everyone to enjoy"
no answer
you sigh as You sign to the servant to bring another drink, as the servant bring it to your table.
you're confused why he didn't go away but you give him his drink anyway.
"your highness it's really not necessary i-"
"you dare to refuse my offer?"
".....no i don't. thank you,your highness"
you smile slightly as he took it
after some minutes you started "why didn't you went away?"
"do you want me to go,your highness?"
"no-no i mean why didn't you?"
"may i know why would i?"
"didn't..-the quee-i mean her majesty tell you about me?"
"yes,she did"
"but you're still..."
"i understand your point,your highness. but i don't understand her majesty's point"
"in any way?"
"forgive me but i was watching you sometime by now"
"wait-what?"
"we're in the same palace i would definitely run into you,and I've heard the commoners talks about you quite often and by what i heard you were too good to them that's made me curious as why her majesty doesn't want anyone near you"
"oh"
you was too stunned to talk...oh was everything you managed to spit out
you wanted to tear up right now, it was just a normal few sentence someone could even mistake it as an offending to them, but for you..no one has said such things like that or even talked to you in the first place
you bowed your head down
the knight speak as if the realization hit him
"i didn't-i didn't mean to offend you,your highness"
"no you..didn't" You raised your head but looked away "i appreciate what you just said,thank you-...uh may i know your name?"
"my name? he cleared his throat my name doesn't matter I'm just your servant,your highness" he said with more respect
"it's a command"
"senor"
"what a strange name,but it's a beautiful one. I'm Y/N if you didn't know my name earlier heh"
"it's such a honor from you to tell me your name,your highness,but if it's not a bother i feel more comfortable calling you "your highness" "
"of course, go with anything makes you comfortable. even though i don't think we'll interact again" you mumble
"if you'll excuse me your highness, i have to go back to my position" he bow and go back when you nod
you didn't want him to go, it was a nice feeling to talk with someone again
(the villagers doesn't count because you couldn't have a proper conversion with them because they'll be too tense to talk with you)
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
after that interact with senor he have been noticing you more he's not ignoring you that much
he would react to your waves with a nod from a far or small movement so you'll know that he saw you
your sister wasn't caring much if he was there or not so you'll take this opportunity to steal him away sometime even if he wasn't approval of your idea
by time you grew closer and closer each time he even visited your personal garden! and became less offical with you but not much
you were too happy to find someone to talk to and spend time with
as for the queen,she's so busy with her duties to even noticing something, maybe she just set this rule and never cared if it broke?
5 A.M.
you and senor where walking in the forest by the river
you planned to go alone in the first place but when he saw you he said it's too dangerous to go alone
"so..you say you knew my father?"
"yes, my lady i did. he had saved my mother from death."
"was..your mother ill?"
"yes, my father wasn't there and i was young to have a job so she was the one working but when she fell down i couldn't do anything....then one day i saw his majesty's court and ran to him the guard has stopped me from going near but i kept shouting for him to help us..then he commanded the guard to let me go as he begin to listen to me, the next thing i know is a lot of money placed in my hand"
sob
senor looked at your way as soon as he heard you sobbing
"my lady are you-are you crying? i-i didn't mean-"
"it's so sad" sob
he just looked at you with big eyes don't know what to do..you..hugged him his hands was in the air where to place them?!
beat beat
shit you were too close,your body pressing against him. did you feel his heart beat? because i think even the village could hear it now
finally he decide to place his hand on your back.
you were talking but he couldn't hear you now, he's more focused on your position.
he was feeling that for a while now but he just denied it. no impossible how could he fall for the princess?
control yourself senor!
"thank you for your kind words my lady" He pushed you back a little
"I'm-I'm sorry i couldn't control myself" you walked back to give him a personal space
your foot slips from the edge as you fell down in the river.
"my lady!" senor yelled as he swim after you
his armor made it difficult to swim fast but eventually he catchs you.
he saw a rock and hold on it "hold on my lady I'll save you" he said between his breath
sitting at the groumd holding you against him, he was panicing now, why hasn't you opened your eyes yet??
"my lady, y/n,are you okay? wake up!"
cough cough
"oh god you're alive"
you opened your eyes slowly, your view still blurry becouse of the water
he made you sit straight as you coughed the water inside your chest
"are you okay?"
you nod as you looked at him.
"thank you. you're really my hero" you giggled
that wasn't a funny thing! you were about to die he should be mad now, scold you even.
but again he's heart start bounding. your hero? your...and you were his lady, he couldn't control himself anymore.
the next thing you see is his lips against yours,it was a long deep kiss he wanted for sometime now.
senor could care less if it's forbidden he was about to lose you seconds ago you're just paying for scaring him to death.
when you return you got a long harsh lecture from the queen on how you were just a wight on her to take and useless
was it? you don't know anymore. all you could think about is that kiss and senor, what was he doing now?
my back hurt :') i have exams soon so i just thought why don't i write something before it?
I'll make this a series too
hope you liked it!
have a good night/day
#yanderexreader#yandere x reader#yandere oc#yandere knight#yandere oc x reader#yandere x you#yandere x y/n#yandere knight x reader
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Eri Reader x Straw Hats Part 24- Whole Cake Island
This is another doozy of an arc, so there will be abridging!
-Sanji made true on his vow to you, as soon as he saw Big Mom, who was pleased to see both him and you, he immediately asked her, “I will do whatever you ask of me, but do not let my family, any of them, anywhere near Y/N.”
-Big Mom seemed surprised by his request, leering down at him while her children were all doing the same, angered that he was making demands when he was going to be killed at the wedding.
-When she asked him of his reason, while you were hugging Sanji close, your arms wrapped around his neck, “You know what Germa 66 is capable of. If they get their hands on Y/N, who knows the torture she’s going to be put through, to get information on her abilities.”
-This made everyone freeze, they knew exactly what Germa 66 was capable of, that’s why they were arranging this wedding, but to see you in Sanji’s arms, trembling with fear, as you wanted to back to all the others, they were a bit more willing to listen now.
-Big Mom agreed to his terms, “Katakuri, my strongest son, will watch Y/N and keep her safe.” The massive man approached, looking so fall, even taller than Doflamingo, as you were a bit in awe as Sanji agree before looking down at you, as he had told you before this meeting that Luffy would come, he knows he will, “Be good Y/N. I’ll see you soon.” You nodded softly before turning to face the Charlotte Family.
-You were scared but when Katakuri picked you up, his hands almost swallowing you up, you felt something, you could tell that he was very strong, but he wasn’t a bad person, you couldn’t explain the feeling, as he held you up on his shoulder, safe and secure.
-Big Mom, curious of your past, as she had heard a lot about you, invited you to a tea party, where she had so many cakes and tea, “You’ll be part of our family soon enough, Y/N, so enjoy yourself!”
-You were confused, looking so innocent sitting on Katakuri’s knee, “But I already have a family, my big brothers, big sisters, and my mama!” Big Mom chose to ignore you, thinking that you had been brainwashed by the Straw Hats. You would come around soon enough.
-You didn’t know that your tea had been drugged, after you ate a bit, so you wouldn’t get sick, just putting you to sleep, and once you were out, Pudding came forward and used her ability to pull out your memory, which almost looked like a movie film reel, so everyone could see it.
-Big Mom knew about the condition of your body, the scars, and she was fully ready to make each of the Straw Hats pay, thinking they had done that do you.
-Only they didn’t they were the ones who rescued you. They saw this unknown man, Overhaul, experimenting on you, making you scream and cry, terrible sounds and visuals that none of the Charlotte Family would be able to forget anytime soon.
-They saw when Luffy found you, rescuing you, and how kindly he treated you, feeding you, and how you had been treated by the other members, all with gentle kindness, other than the occasional forehead flick when you did some reckless.
-Big Mom was distraught when she saw what your abilities allowed you to do, bringing those back from the dead, tears welling in her eyes as she thought of Mother Caramel. However, when she saw the repercussions of your ability, the high fevers, and the risk it put on your life, she was torn. She wanted to see Mother Caramel more than anything, but she wasn’t willing to risk a child’s health and safety for it.
-Seeing that the Straw Hats were not the ones that did this to you, the murderous intent faded for them at least, as Big Mom demanded to know who this Overhaul was, wanting to find any information about him.
-While Big Mom wasn’t going to go after the Straw Hats, unless if they tried anything funny, she wasn’t going to let them take you back, after seeing what you have gone through the past few years. They were incompetent in her eyes, unable to properly keep you safe.
-A few days later, you thought you heard someone saying something about Luffy, but you weren’t completely sure, as you hugged Katakuri face from the side, from your spot on his shoulder.
-Katakuri was unsure of this feeling he felt for you, it was so strange, so new, it wasn’t like the feeling he felt with his cute little siblings. This was something else, but he liked it.
-He did his job, keeping you safe, keeping a watchful eye on you, even when you were playing with other children, including the Charlotte Family children, making sure that you were safe at all times.
-Katakuri was very open with you, not feeling afraid of you being afraid of him, so he showed you his snack time ritual, showing you his true self.
-Instead of being scared your eyes were huge and sparkly as you watched him eat donuts, “So cool! You can eat such big donuts in one bite!!” This is what made his affection for you grow.
-The only thing Katakuri didn’t allow was for you to see Sanji, despite feeling his heart aching, seeing your puppy dog eyes, seeing you look so cute, calling Sanji your big brother.
-Katakuri took you to a place that overlooked the harbor and pointed out the Germa 66’s ship, “That’s Sanji’s family. From what I know he doesn’t see himself as a member of that family, but he wants us to keep you away from them, to keep you safe.” You remember Sanji saying the same thing, and it made you curious, wanting to know why Sanji didn’t like his family.
-When you heard that Luffy was on the island, along with Ace, Nami, Brook, and Chopper, your eyes lit up, wanting to return to your home on Sunny with them, along with Sanji.
-Katakuri felt like scum when you cried, when he told you that you weren’t going back with them, that Big Mom, or Mama as she had been wanting you to call her, was adopting you and you were going to be a part of her family. You didn’t understand and Katakuri felt guilt, seeing you in such a state.
-It was Luffy and Ace, working together, that led Katakuri leaving you with Sanji, who held you close, hugging you so tightly and Sanji felt the ice in Katakuri’s stare when he told the cook to keep you safe while he dealt with the invaders, not outright telling you that it was Luffy and Ace, so you wouldn’t be upset.
-Your little hands cupped Sanji’s face, seeing that he was injured, having been beaten by his family, being the weakest of them all, which made tears well in your eyes.
-Your horn flared to life, and he caught your hands, halting your actions, smiling softly down at you, “Don’t Y/N. I’ll be fine. I promise.” You lifted your pinkie finger to him, and he couldn’t help but grin, feeling warm and locked fingers with you.
-You then heard a new voice, “Is that Y/N?” you both turned and saw three more men, who looked kind of like Sanji, one with red hair, one with blue, and one with green, and a lady with pink hair.
-Sanji held you close, getting ready to move to run before Reiju came over, beaming down at you, “Hello there Y/N. I’m Reiju, Sanji’s big sister!” your eyes went wide, hearing this, and while Sanji seemed okay with her being close, he took a step back when the other three tried to approach.
-You then saw another man, a large man, following them, looking surprised to see you in Sanji’s arms, as he was curious as to where you were, as he knew that Big Mom had brought you to the island alongside his useless child.
-Niji and Ichiji both came over, telling you their names, as they knew their father’s plan on using you, and if they could get you easily like this, away from Big Mom’s watchful eyes, then they were going to take it.
-Yonji came over, looking cheerful, “And I’m Yonji!” instantly your mood and demeanor went from curious to terrified, your hands winding into Sanji’s shirt, your eyes going wide as you started breathing heavily, like you were panicking.
-Sanji and Reiju were quick to notice the change as your eyes were locked on Yonji, who tilted his head to the side, confused as to why you were looking at him like that.
-Sanji was quick to put his hands over your eyes and you quickly turned, burying your face into Sanji’s chest, trying to hide from this man. You didn’t know him, but his voice… it was the same as Overhaul’s.
-Reiju was quick to slap Yonji, demanding to know what he had done to you to make you so afraid, which caused lots of yelling. Sanji noticed Reiju pointing to the window, giving him an out, as she was terrified to see you look so scared, and Sanji ran, leaping out the window.
-His brothers and father all yelled, seeing him escaping, as Sanji used his sky walk to escape, descending safely while holding you close. Sanji was willing to do whatever it took to keep you safe, and if it was his life or yours, he would always make sure that you were safe, every single time.
-Luck was on his side when he saw Luffy, Ace, and Nami again, running to safety after having defeated Cracker and escaping and he shouted, “NAMI-SAN!!” She turned, hearing Sanji as Niji was closing in on him, using his power suit to catch up.
-Sanji squeezed you once before tossing you towards the group and instantly you felt Luffy’s rubber arms wrapping around you before pulling you into his chest.
-You looked up, tears blooming in your eyes as you cried, “Big brother!!”
-He held you close, not letting you look back, as he looked murderous as Niji, Ichiji, and Yonji were attacking Sanji, while Reiju and Judge looked on, but Nami was the one to grab Luffy, and the three of them ran, looking for a place to hide.
-For a while, you were safe, crying in Nami’s arms as you told them what Sanji’s mean family had done and how Big Mom wasn’t going to let you go with them, that she wasn’t going to let you go.
-Ace just ruffled your hair softly, trying to console you, “It will be okay Y/N. We’re going to get Sanji back and then were going to meet up with the others in Wano.” You sniffled softly, giving him a firm nod and he grinned, seeing you looking happier.
-That was short lived when you were attacked by Big Mom’s children, Katakuri taking you back from Luffy, who was demanding him to let you go. You were trembling, looking scared as they were all captured and taken away.
-Katakuri had been furious to see you there, knowing Sanji had betrayed him, but when he returned to Sanji, Katakuri saw that he was badly beaten, as if he had been violently attacked. Katakuri wasn’t dumb to realize that Germa 66 had found you, and Sanji took you to safety, with Luffy and the others.
-You were crying, seeing Sanji in such a state before you scared Katakuri by leaping from his shoulder, to get to Sanji. He caught you safely, sighing softly in relief, “That was reckless.”
-Another voice then spoke up, “I agree.” You both turned, seeing Reiju there, holding medical supplies, looking upset, as if she didn’t want this to happen to Sanji.
-Sanji, through gasps of pain, as he refused to let you use your ability on him, told you that Reiju was the only good one in his family, beside his mother, Sora.
-You noticed Reiju trying not to cry, hearing her mother’s name, and Katakuri remained silent, letting you be with Sanji and Reiju, hearing the tale of how the Germa 66 came to be, and what Sora was willing to do to keep her children safe.
-You were in tears by the time he finished the tale, telling you how Reiju snuck him out all those years ago, getting him to a ship where he would later meet Zeff
-Your horn started glowing by itself as you sniffled, crying as Sanji tried to move, immediately hissing in pain, “Y/N! Calm down!” Katakuri went to touch you when a bright light filled the room and only moments later, a woman was standing there, blond, with curly eyebrows.
-Reiju’s jaw dropped open, her tears welling as the woman gasped suddenly, taking her first breath, “Mother!!” Sora turned, being embraced by her now much older daughter, surprised to see her there before she gasped, “Sanji!!”
-You stumbled back, holding your head, feeling woozy as Katakuri pulled you into his arms, pulling his scarf off, wrapping it around you as you started developing a fever, tears streaming down your cheeks.
-Sanji was in disbelief, seeing his mother there, tears welling in his eyes, but he didn’t care, he openly cried as she held him close, holding her sweet child in her arms once more.
-Katakuri was conflicted, he knew that the Germa 66 was going to die at the wedding, at least those four men who deserved it, but seeing these three, seeing the love they had, it didn’t feel right to let them die too.
-Sora was pleased to meet you, once your fever broke, as Sanji explained your ability, and how you brought her back to life, as she hugged you close, cuddling you. She was a lot like Sanji, so warm and cuddly.
-Reiju then spoke, “Y/N, what did Yonji do to make you so scared of him?” She had been wondering this, as did Sanji, and hearing this, Katakuri and Sora were also curious, but only Katakuri had pain on the mind.
-You hesitated for only a moment before you pushed up one of the sleeves on your shirt, showing your scars, making the two women gasp in shock as Sanji looked mad, seeing them again, “I… he- he didn’t do anything, but he… he has the same voice as… as Overhaul, the one who did this to me.”
-Sora cuddled you close again, vowing to keep you safe.
-Katakuri then spoke, “I know Mama wants to use you as well Y/N, when you’re older and stronger. She said it was to keep you safe, but the safest spot is with that loud mouthed captain of yours. I’ll help you all get to safety.”
-He then told you all about the plot to kill Germa 66, so big Mom could take the technology for herself, to create weapons, and you realized that she was no better than the Germa 66.
-Sanji agreed to go through with the plan, as Katakuri could see, with his future sight, that shit was going to hit the fan tomorrow.
-You remained with Katakuri, to help with the plan, as Reiju, Sanji, and Sora went to rescue the others, telling them of the plan and the inside friend they now had.
-Luffy calmed, hearing that Katakuri was willing to help you all escape, but he agreed to go through with the plan, as they had their own inside man, with Capone Bege, who was helping arrange for the wedding to go badly.
-Sora was distraught to learn what Judge had done to their children, seeing what they had become, but knowing that Reiju and Sora were good, and that Sanji had you, she was willing to do whatever it took to help where she could.
-Bege had the idea of her being a shock factor, to stop the Germa 66, if they tried to come after them during the fallout, something Reiju agreed to help with, as she was leaving to be with her mother.
-Sanji offered them a safe place with Zeff, whom he knew would take them both in, and they liked the idea of the easy life, working in a restaurant, one that helped raise Sanji into the man he was today.
-You were in Katakuri’s arms, wearing a pretty dress, one fit for a wedding, looking a little nervous as you watched Pudding, who you found out wasn’t as nice as she pretended to be, and Sanji up on the humongous wedding cake.
-Katakuri looked down at you, giving you a tiny squeeze, one that reassured you.
-Shit hit the fan and it hit it hard and fast when Luffy and the others launched their attack, shooting Mother Caramel’s photograph, sending Big Mom into a fit of anguish, one that would have hurt your ears, had Katakuri not put mochi in your ears prior to her losing it.
-Your eyes were wide as you saw Sanji saving his family, who had been encased in hard candy, so they could be easily shot, but he glared down at them as Reiju took his hand, “Never come after me or Y/N again!”
-Reiju beamed at them as they went to stand, to attack Sanji, demanding who he thought he was before a voice spoke up, “He’s my very normal human son!!” They all turned, seeing Sora there and eyes went wide, seeing her alive, realizing that you had brought her back to life.
-Judge looked so elated to see her, trying to approach but she popped off with the mother of all bitch slaps, sending him spinning as she glared hard, “Children are not weapons! I tried to teach you this then, and I’ll teach you this now! Why do you think they had no feelings being faced with death?!”
-Reiju grabbed her mother, hugging her close and took off, using her boots to skywalk, as they rushed for the ship Katakuri had prepared for them, as Sanji had called Zeff, letting him know what had happened and he agreed to take the two women in.
-Katakuri had to make it look like he was fighting Ace and Luffy, to keep up appearances, as they were pulled into the mirror by Brulée, who was in on the plot, willing to help Katakuri, and willing to help you, after you showed her such sweet kindness, one she had never felt before, getting everyone safely to the ship.
-Katakuri hesitated in handing you over, he didn’t want to let you go, Ace saw the look in his eyes and smiled softly, “You’re welcome to join us, if you want to.” Katakuri was startled by this offer, before he shook his head sadly, handing you to Brook, “No, my place is here with my family, just as you all belong together.”
-You caught his hand, surprising him as you beamed, “Don’t forget to come and see me, okay?” he chuckled softly, stroking his thumb down your cheek, before he left, retreating to his family.
-Your eyes were huge and sparkly, watching Carrot go Sulong, which was amazing to see, as you had never seen anything like it, but she was still Carrot, as she hugged you, rubbing her cheek against her own, once she took out several of the opposing ships.
-Ace held you on his shoulders, his hat on your head, as everyone managed to escape as Luffy beamed, “Onward to Wano!!”
-You threw your hands up, cheering with the others, wondering what awaited you on your next adventure!!
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Hellooooo, good morning from my side of the world. I saw a post about regretful yanderes, so can I please get a regretful yandere ask for the hxh adult trio with Feitan pleaaaaseeeeee🥺🥺. Ignore if it's too much trouble.
From your one and only crazy chicken 🐔🐔
ok i kinda struggle with hxh trio having regret because like. they don’t seem the type to. kinda?
below the cut: hisoka (very short), chrollo, Illumi, feitan
hisoka. 0 regret. horrific man. will not ever feel bad about whatever he does to you.
chrollo and illumi are a little bit tricky for me.
chrollo keeps up with the gentleman act, but has zero regret in taking you away. his punishments are also very thought out and planned, so i don’t think he’d come to regret them, as in his eyes you truly deserved what was coming to you. i can see him feeling some ounce of regret when you push him too far and the act drops; he might lash out and leave you with at most a broken wrist. he’d feel bad if you started going quiet after that, but mostly because he enjoys talking to you so much.
but i also think that something in the heart he thought he didn’t have starts aching at the sight of you crying. i imagine this in a scenario where you’ve been with him for a while now, and you haven’t been lashing out or trying to escape. he’s usually very in tune with your emotions, but for a split second when he looks up from his book to see you silently crying he feels his eyes widen, and breathing halt. the feeling in his chest is probably the closest thing he can have to actual regret.
illumi is similar in the fact that his punishments are very thought out, however i see them also being much more extreme. with chrollo if you run you get a condescending caress of your cheek before being knocked out and carried back. with illumi you could end up with two broken ankles. he’ll get some form of silent pleasure at carrying you around everywhere and having you rely on him entirely, so don’t give him the opportunity to do so.
illumi doesn’t like seeing you sad though. when he stalked you for like… two days before just taking you for himself, he felt something in his chest grow warm at watching you interact with things that made you happy (not people, though. that made him feel a little bit sickly.) seeing you play with a stray cat on your way home from work had him thinking that you would be a good mother. the next morning you woke up in the zoldyck estate, so… yeah.
you might become quiet the more time you spend with him, thinking that maybe that’s what he wants of you. he’ll regret if he makes you feel like that - like chrollo, he’s also hooked on the sound of your voice. he’s just a lot less obvious about it.
similarly to chrollo i imagine he doesn’t like seeing you cry. you’re his wife, you should be happy. it kinda depends on why you’re crying though. if it’s because of him he’s probably already convinced that he’s done nothing wrong and that you should get over it. if it’s his family, he’ll probably have a talk to them to see what happened. if it’s anyone else he’s seeing red. quite literally too; whoever it is will be drained of all blood they have available.
now. feitan. hrm.
as far as i’ve seen of him feitan seems to be one of the worst yans you could be stuck with. is mad at you for the fact that he’s in love. has considered many times just killing you so he can be rid of all of these feelings but every time he just can’t bring himself to, and it makes him more mad.
definitely sadistic. he doesn’t care to explain to you why you’ve made him mad sometimes, and it’ll be hard to know if you have because he’s always mad. the only time you see him content is when he’s come back from torturing someone (and also when he watches you sleep but you don’t need to know that.)
being with him is like walking on thin ice while wearing a suit made out of molten lava.
his punishments will hurt. bad. expect a lot of bruises or broken bones, and he’s pretty fast to dish them out. he actively enjoys seeing you cry, so that isn’t going to help with anything.
but. i can actually feeling some sort of regret at times. very VERY rarely, though.
one time he locked you in the basement for a couple of days, forgetting that you needed food and water to quite literally survive. you couldn’t really focus on much when he came back, but you could swear you saw actual panic in his expression.
he never apologises for things like that, but you’ll find yourself warm in bed, some microwaveable meal you enjoy on the table next to you, as well as maybe a book or game you used to go on about. it’s pretty much the only form of regret you’ll get from him, but you’ll take it over anything else.
#tw yandere#tw.yandere#yandere#yanderecore#yandere chrollo#yandere hxh#yandere chrollo lucilfer#yandere chrollo x reader#yandere hxh x reader#tw kidnap mention#yandere illumi zoldyck#yandere illumi x reader#yandere illumi zoldyck x reader#yandere hunter x hunter#yandere feitan#yandere feitan x reader#tw starvation
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I really enjoy reading your headcannons!
Tell me, do you have like... Very sad once? About mk kids? 👀
I m sorry if my question sounds too cruel or rude--
Oh no worries, Honey. I love torturing my kiddos. 😁
Cassie has massive imposter syndrome and anxiety around her position as a leader.
When she was a kid, both her parents didn’t have a lot of time for her and she’d find herself alone or forgotten. Now she makes a big show of herself and constantly butts into her friend’s lives so they don’t get the opportunity to forget her. She’s lost several friendships/relationships because of this in the past.
Jacqui constantly strives for perfection trying to win her dad’s approval. She idolizes him and the fact that he doesn’t approve of any of her interests or career choices hurts like hell.
Jacqui and her father fight constantly about Takeda and the two love birds had actually split up a few times in the early days of their relationship because of it. None of these break ups ever lasted long but they hurt like hell when they were separated. After it became clear Jax was never going to change his mind she just stopped bringing the topic of Takeda up altogether.
If there was a contest for who on Earth has the most abandonment issues Takeda would win by a landslide. It makes him very clingy in his relationships. After being dropped off at the Shirai Ryu by his father, a man he’s only known for all of three days, and then never hearing from him ever again, Takeda’s tiny little 8 year old mind internalized that as there being something wrong with him and that no one wanted him. He closed himself off and it took years for Hanzo to get him to open back up again. Now he clings to his relationship with the Grandmaster and for the longest time refused to acknowledge that he was anything other than Hanzo’s son since he was the only person that never walked away from him.
This is also why he tries to be liked by everyone in the room. He doesn’t want anyone to leave him. He’ll joke, he’ll smile, he’ll mediate, anything to keep the peace and keep people happy. He’ll bury his anger until it’s safe to use it in a fight, and there’s a lot of it. The little voice in his head that wants to burn everything to the ground, friends and family be damned. They’re all going to leave eventually anyway. All they’re ever going to do is hurt you. Why not hurt them back? Why not hurt them first? It’s only fair. It might even be fun. He ignores this voice as best he can.
Jin has massive trust issues. He can never take anything at face value because the last time he did he was kicked to the streets for something he couldn’t control and had no say in. You can’t trust people and can only rely on yourself. People slow you down, it’s better to go it alone. Safer.
His pride is another thing. He’s been doing things his way for this long, clearly something is working. He doesn’t need to be told what to do because he knows how to handle things himself. These people don’t know what they’re talking about and they sure as hell don’t know him. If anything they should be following his lead. He knows what he’s doing. Otherwise they should just get out of his way.
Frost has nightmares. Nightmares about her mother. Nightmares about the fighting pits. About cold nights sleeping on the streets. About beatings and screaming and hateful words. Every time she wakes up in tears. Every time she feels so weak and small and helpless. She hates it. She has to be stronger. She has to be better. She has to prove to herself, to the world, that she is stronger. Better. She’s not helpless. She’s not weak. She’s better. Better than all of them combined.
#all of these kids need so much therapy#just so much therapy#mortal kombat#mkx#mk10#kombat kids#cassie cage#jacqui briggs#takeda takahashi#kung jin#frost mk
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Introducing my Yandere oc’s!
~ • ~
~ • ~
Irademia!cult leader! Modern! Poly!
Occupation: cult leader
Age: 27
She/her
Lesbian
Top
‘Goddess of Luxury, life, witchcraft and sex’
“I am your goddess, and you shall bow to me as I am in my mortal form.”
Irademia started this cult after she discovered the basics of witchcraft and learned the power of suggestion and psychology. After getting her masters in psychology she started fear mongering that the end was near and she was the cure to immortal life. She found Iradita and fed her lies of her being the mother of the cult and she would bring them to safety. Irademia is extremely cunning and power hungry.
Manipulative, cunning, power hungry.
~ • ~
Iradita! Cult leader! Modern! Poly!
Occupation: cult leader
25
She/her
Bisexual
Switch
‘Goddess of rebirth, birth, death and retribution’
“I am Irademia’s partner. For I am a god.”
Iradita regardless of her status in the cult is extremely insecure and easy to manipulate. Although she is not a victim she definitely enjoys the role of power and serving her partner. She’s extremely naive unfortunately yet temperamental and explosive.
Naive, loyal, hot headed.
~•~
Estelle! Hitwoman! Modern!
Occupation: Hit Woman
Age: 23
She/they
Pansexual
Top
‘Deaths right hand’
“Oh baby you owe some very bad people a lot of money”
Estelle often works for people on the dark web even going as far as to torture people sexually and non sexually on the dark web for high paying clients. Although most of her work is for loan sharks collecting outstanding debts. Estelle is very closed off yet a very obsessive toxic lover.
Obsessive, Sadistic, Toxic.
~ • ~
Verena, Yandere Queen! Medieval!
37
Queen
She/her
Lesbian
Top
‘The Queen of heads’
“Oh the title? I collect the heads of those who wrong me. Oh no darling why are you crying? I would take your heart not your head!”
Verena was named after her mother who was pronounced queen of power. Her name means power and she actively flaunts it even more then her crown. Verena never married or had a heir and refused to do so, claiming she would rather die then belong to a man.
~•~
Aesira! Assassin! Medieval!
Assassin
21
She/her
Bisexual
Top
‘Assassin of desire’
“I am a god.”
(Yes she’s inspired off Celeana from throne of glass what about it)
Aesira grew up in the queen of heads kingdom. At a very young age the queen massacred her parents infront of her and from then on she swore to be the queens demise. She’s known for killing her victims with her appearance to lead them to their death. They say if you look into her eyes long enough you’ll light on fire from desire.
~•~
Iphissyss! Genderfluid! Succubus/Shapeshifter! Mediveal!
Temptress for hire is apparently her occupation (glorified bait and distraction)
169 (20 in human years)
She/they/he/it
Pansexual
Switch
‘Hells prized curse’
“Oh darling I’m anything and everything you want me to be. Oh but I am definitely your worse sexy nightmare.”
This demon grew up being tutored as soon as she hit 18 how to be the best temptation around. Once she finished her training she wrecked havoc on the kingdoms around started offering her services for sexual energy and teaching forbidden crafts and stalking unsuspecting victims.
~•~
#xodite.writes#wlw concepts#minors go away#txt smut#lesbian ns/fw#yandere lesbian#genderfluid#oc x y/n#yandere oc#my ocs#ocs
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Never been a girl for gold
Word Count: 2248
Ship: John Dutton x reader
Summary: When John brings the new woman in his life to the ranch for the first time he is in for a wild ride
Warnings: use of Y/N, semi canon compliant, non beta read and written by a non native speaker (proceed with caution), cursing, age gap relationship. If I missed something that you think needs taging, please tell me and I am going to add it to the list
Author’s note: This is the OS that was inspired by one of two prompts I have received so far (this specific one being sent in by @thebeckyjolene ). The complete prompt can be found at the end of the text because I wanted to avoid spoilers, but if you feel better knowing exactly what you get yourself into you can check it out. I would also love to hear any kind of feedback and if you want me to write a OS based on your prompt, my inbox for John, Kacey, Lee, Rip and Ryan is still open, so be my guest.
The last time John had been this nervous when he drove back from town to the ranch was way back when he was a teenager. Then he feared the wrath of his mother after staying all night at the bar without calling her first. His left hand tightly gripped the steering wheel, knuckles turning white and the right one resting on the leather seat curled into a fist, feeling the blood rushing in his ears and his heart thumping against his rib cage.
“You okay, love?”, a soft voice pulled him back to reality, feeling gentle fingers wrapping around his hand, uncurling his stiff fingers to intertwine them with hers.
John knew he should keep his eyes on the road, but he couldn’t help but let his gaze wander to the side, being met by the loving eyes of the woman right next to him. A sudden wave of calm washed over him, feeling the comforting way her thumb was stroking the back of his hand.
“Yeah”, he replied, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. For the first time in a very long while he felt okay, even more so.
He was genuinely happy, and the reason was sitting right next to him. As hard as it was, he moved his gaze back onto the road, hearing the gentle hum beside him before he felt her inching even closer, resting her head on his shoulder.
Whatever it was that was waiting for him at home, he knew with Y/N by his side, it would be a walk in the park.
It only took them a few more minutes until he pulled up on the driveway of the ranch, enjoying watching her take in the place he called home for the very first time as he put the car in park.
Before she could get out of the car, he raised their entangled hands, pressing a gentle kiss onto the back of hers.
“Ready for the lion’s den?”, he asked her, wondering yet again if he should have brought her here, to begin with. John knew his family was difficult and could be a lot, so he worried that once Y/N met them, she’d walk out the door and never come back. The mere thought of losing her was something that haunted him, a life without her being a torturous thought.
“John...”, the small chuckle that rumbled in her chest started to melt his fear away. From the moment they had met, he had loved the sound of her gentle voice, the way she managed to give him a sense of home without him even knowing who she was.
” I am a woman working for an NGO, handling oil companies and land developers. I doubt they can throw something my way, I have never heard before”
“From your lips to God's ears.“, John pressed another kiss to the back of her hand and took a last deep breath before he got out of the car. He put his cowboy hat on before making his way in an attempt to open the car door for her only to find her already getting out, her eyes glued to some paddocks with the horses munching on their well-deserved hay. He knew that she was a city girl, who had grown up in concrete wastelands, secretly dreaming of adventures as a horse girl one day. John approached her from behind, wrapping an arm around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder.
“I’ll introduce you later. We have to get to the two-legged creatures first”, he murmured, fighting the instinct to press a kiss to her neck. He knew that this public display of affection was enough to get the wranglers' mouths running. He didn’t need to give them even more reason to gossip.
“I hold you to that promise, cowboy”, she replied, turning around in his hold before she leaned in for a quick, chaste kiss.
“I know”, he retorted, the chuckle falling from her lips making his heart flutter in his chest. How a single human being could hold so much power over him was beyond John, but with her, he didn’t mind.
His arm wrapped around her waist again, hand on the small of her back to guide her over to the main house. He wanted to get over with this initial introduction as quickly as possible.
It was like a band-aid. The longer he’d waited, the more painful it is to pull it off.
With his hand hovering over the door handle he looked over at her once more, wanting to make sure that she was really ready for this.
“Ready when you are, cowboy”, she replied to his silent question, entering the house with him.
“Beth? Kayce? Are you here”
“We are in the kitchen daddy”, he heard his daughter call, following the voice with Y/N beside him and instantly regretting the fact he hadn’t asked them to come to the living room. There were too many weaponisable things around the room for his taste and he knew Beth’s temper. She wouldn’t take this very well.
“Why did you want us to come here? Is anything...” Beth started, stopping mid-sentence as she saw her father entering the kitchen, a woman only half his age glued to his side.
“Going on”, she finished, gaze wandering over the other woman, like a predator sizing up its prey. John knew that look all too well and he was secretly happy that Rip was standing right behind his wife, knowing he was just as much on alert as John.
"Kayce. Beth. Rip. This is Y/N", John introduced the woman beside him to his family, waiting for the reaction of his children.
“I knew that there was a gold-digging bitch who got her claws into you. At least now I know the face”, she snarled, leaning over the kitchen counter with the typical Dutton fire burning bright in her eyes.
John wanted to reply to the insult, but he felt Y/N lean into his side, that simple touch enough to make him stop in his tracks and quell his rage. At least for now.
“Nah. Never been a girl for gold.”, she retorted, lifting her hand to John's chest, fingers spread on his flannel shirt, making all the eyes fall to the shimmering silver ring around her ring finger. There was no way to deny that this was indeed a wedding band she wore albeit, not a traditional one. With that reveal, Rip got himself ready to hold his wife back and even throw her over his shoulder need be, to carry her back to their cabin.
“I personally prefer silver”, the new Mrs John Dutton added, the air in the kitchen tenser with every passing second.
All men expected a bloodbath once the ticking time bomb that was Beth Dutton would explode, but all there was, was laughter. Roaring and body-shaking laughter, first by Beth and soon after she was joined by Y/N.
Of all the outcomes John had pictured for this meeting, this was not something his mind had come up with.
Using the shock of the men, the women moved around the counter, wrapping their arms around one another.
“My dad is finally showing some taste in his choice of women”, the blonde said in between chuckles as she hugged the other as tight as she could.
“Well, wonders will never cease”, Y/N murmured back, her hold of the other woman growing just as tight.
When Y/N had met John, she had not for a second thought that he and her Beth Dutton had any connection, so to find the woman she considered as close as kin right here in the kitchen was a surprise, to say the least.
“You know each other?”, John finally got out, not sure if he could trust the fragile peace he witnessed.
“Yes. Remember when I told you about the girl from my dorm that was too kind for her own good?", she asked, her arm still wrapped around Y/N as she turned over to her father.
It took John a moment to put the pieces together, making Y/N chuckle with the way she almost saw the small lightbulb going off over his head.
" Yeah, Rose. But her name...", he started, confusion written over his face.
"Never said it was, daddy"
The rest of the introduction went smoothly.
Y/N even met Tate when he came home from school and the boy insisted on showing her the barn and introducing her to the horses, especially proud when she called his beloved mare the most beautiful of them all. The boy even promised to help her once she was ready to get on horseback herself.
A lot would change for her now that she was here. So many new things to be learned and surely mistakes to be made, but whenever she felt like stumbling, John was right there to catch her.
With the hustle and bustle of the ranch slowly dying down, Beth and Rip retired to their cabin and Kacey was getting Tate to bed, so Y/N finally had a chance to sit down on the porch, take a deep breath and watch the beautiful sunset.
John had been right when he called this place heaven on earth and the thought that he had invited her here, to share this beauty with her for the rest of their days made the smile on her face grow wider.
"This day was interesting...", the voice of John pulled her back to reality, making her look to the side where he stood in the doorway, walking over to her slowly before sitting down right next to her.
"True... but it was good. I love this place. And your family", she said, snuggling closer into his side so he could lay his arm around her shoulder.
"As of today, it's yours too..."
"You are right. Our family"
Hearing her say that made him smile, pulling her even closer to his body as his eyes wandered over the soft hills in the distance. The silence that fell between them was a comfortable one, but John couldn't help the question that had lingered in his mind since he learned who she was.
Back when he first laid eyes on Y/N at the counter of the bar in Bozeman, he had felt foolish for even thinking he could have a chance with her. Not just because of their age gap, but also because he had seen what looked like a beautiful engagement ring on her finger...
"A penny for your thoughts"
"I just thought back to the night we met...", he began, taking her hand in his and lifting it to press a gentle kiss to the back of her hand, "The most beautiful woman I had ever seen sitting alone at the counter. Still not sure where that stupid bravery came from to approach you...", he told her, his fingers playing with hers while a giggle fell from her smiling lips.
When Y/N met him she had just moved to the state, starting a new job with an environmental protection organisation and her place was still filled with boxes she desperately longed to escape that night.
"Like, mustering up the courage to sit down next to you was one thing, but seeing that ring, I almost didn't talk to you", a little chuckle rumbling in his chest, "You have no idea how relieved I felt when you said it was a gift from your best friend", there was a question hidden in that statement and Y/N knew it, so she tangled her fingers with his, her gaze fixed on the horizon.
"When I got the admission to university I was excited. I always wanted to work for an NGO and make the world a little better, so getting a chance to lay the foundation for that was thrilling and exciting. But there was this guy in my class. He was the picture-perfect stereotype. A misogynistic, rich white boy and dumber than dirt who got a legacy admission. I loved my courses and all, but he made it... difficult", she started, knowing that she was safe in her husband's arms while he felt anger boiling in his veins.
"I had this flatmate and she was... practically a tornado with skin", a smile played on her lips as she remembered meeting Beth for the first time.
"When the guy turned from annoying to creepy, she had the idea to play into his bullshit and she got me a ring...", Y/N reached for the leather band around her neck, revealing the ring she wore every day since she got it. A silver snake as the band, crowned by a rose.
"A reminder that even though I am a delicate flower, I'd always have a serpent who would fight by my side if my thorns weren't enough", she chuckled, remembering how an off-handed joke about a Lady Lady Macbeth quote turned into a physical representation of their very unlikely friendship.
The silence that fell between her and John this time was different, the air heavier between them.
"I know I already made you a promise today, but I'll make you another...", he began, resting his hand on her cheek to make her look into those green eyes that had bewitched her from the first moment she saw them, his forehead gently resting against hers, "As long as you are with me, you’ll never need these thorns"
OG Prompt: I was wondering if I could request a Yellowstone imagine where John Dutton brings his newlywed wife back to the ranch and introduces her to everyone and that the Reader and Beth are best friends!
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Incapable
Bucky Barnes Masterlist
Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Mob violence, violence against reader (Not Bucky), mature themes, Brock Rumlow just as a person, guns, general mob fuckery, light alcohol use, slutty themes ( Minors DNI), Kidnapping, torture
Contains: Arranged marriage, fluff, some angst, femme fatale/boss bitch energy, strangers to lovers maybe? Happy ending
Word Count: 4.7k
Dividers are made by me! Want some for yourself? Send me an ask!
Summary: Bucky Barnes is the only person to treat you as human, despite your marriage being transactional. How will you react when he's kidnapped?
I do not nor will I ever give permission for my writing to be copied, pasted, reposted to other sites, or edited in any way shape or form. Seriously, just don’t.
A/N: I did not make the gif, and @vbecker10 inspired me to use it. Just look at him! Adorable, and so, so done with people's bullshit. If this progressed kind of fast, I'm sorry! I really didn't want to start another series, and I didn't want to publish something that was INSANELY long either. I love writing our Reader as someone who can handle herself, it makes me so happy. I hope you all can enjoy another Badass Reader fic!! (There will be a super slutty epilogue but I'm so ready for this to be out so the smut will appear in the next bit, but both pieces can be read on their own)
The door to your house was broken. Someone had kicked it in. You step over broken glass, finding every drawer ripped apart.
“James?” You called out to your husband. Silence was the only answer you received.
“Bucky??” Your voice was more desperate. You ran from room to room, only finding more destruction. Making your way into Bucky’s office last, you found his sitting corner smashed, with blood staining the carpet and upholstery. A broken cell lay on the ground – Bucky’s work phone. The picture of you and Bucky on your wedding day had been ripped out of its frame, the blade of a hunting knife stuck in the side table through the photo of Bucky, while your face had been scratched beyond recognition. There was no mistaking the message that the sender was intending. Though your marriage wasn’t traditional, James Buchanan Barnes had never made you feel like property. Your husband was the only person in your life that hadn’t treated you like a means to an end, like a bargaining chip or a high-ticket item, and he was missing. You pick up the cracked phone on the ground, managing to turn it on enough to get Steve’s number out of it. You dial, hang up after one ring, then call right back.
“Hey, Buck, what’s up?” You hear Steve’s jovial voice on the line.
“He’s made his move. Get Wilson and be here in 20.” Your voice was calm, but Steve could hear the icy bite.
“Y/N, sweetheart, I know this is tough but–”
“But nothing, Rogers.” You cut him off. “I know that I haven’t been involved in the business, but this is personal. 20 minutes. Wilson. Bring however many weapons you can carry.” You hung up, not waiting for a response.
Your marriage was transactional, you’d known that from the start. You’d been adopted by Rumlow Senior when your mother had passed, and been raised alongside his son, Brock. At least, that’s the story the Public knew. You had been part of your mother’s efforts to pay off her debts to the Rumlow Mafia family. Your father had passed from massive medical complications – you didn’t know a lot of the details, you had been too young to understand and no one had ever given you much to go on past that – and your mother had borrowed money from the Rumlows to help pay for his treatments. There wasn’t money to pay back her loans, so she paid them back the only way she could. Your mother had become the infamous Mafia fixer known as Lady Death, and you had been sent to live with the Rumlow family at age five as insurance. She had been legally dead since you were adopted by the Rumlows, but your mother had been killed for real on an assignment when you were seventeen. After over a decade with the family, Rumlow Senior had made you a deal. Keep playing the role of his adoptive daughter, and you would be kept safe. When you were twenty one, you were given a choice. Rumlow Senior would be stepping down as head of the Rumlow Family that year.
“But why would you pick me?” The question hung heavy in the air of Rumlow Senior’s office.
“You have been raised in the Family just as Brock has, Y/N. You are every bit as ruthless as my biological son, and I have complete faith that you would make the right decision for the future of the family whenever the need arose. Unlike my son, however, you have a cool head on your shoulders. You do not jump at the chance for violence. You take the diplomatic route whenever possible, and leave none in your path when it is not.” You sat there in silence. This wasn’t a life that you had wanted. True, you had grown up learning alongside Brock in order to maintain the role of Rumlow’s Little Princess, but you hadn’t ever expected to be offered anything, much less control of the family.
“I . . . I don’t mean any disrespect, but what’s the other option?” Rumlow Senior crossed his arms. You knew that wasn’t the answer he was hoping for, but still, he responded.
“If you don’t step into the role of Matriarch, there will be a target on you. Your safest choice would be to marry the head of another family. Your husband’s power would both protect you and benefit our family.” You chew on your lower lip and nod slowly. There was no leaving this life behind for you, not if you wanted to live past the age of 25.
“If I really do get a choice . . . I would rather the marriage.” You took a deep breath, collecting your thoughts. Rumlow Senior watches you, a pensive expression on his face. “You’ve been an amazing father to me, both before and after my mother’s . . . Passing . . . but this life. . . it isn’t for me. I don’t want any hand in the lifestyle that killed my mother.” You couldn’t stop the bite from sneaking into your voice during your last sentence. Rumlow Senior nodded slowly.
“As much as it pains me to admit, this life has not been kind to you. I’ll put out the notification to other families and see who we may ally ourselves with. You’ll always be a part of this family, Princess, even if you weren’t born into it.” He gave you a gentle smile. The old man had always treated you carefully and stated that your mother’s debt wasn’t yours to carry, but you’d overheard conversations behind closed doors. An arranged marriage had been in the cards for almost a decade now. You weren’t a part of the family, you were a business asset that he wanted to keep compliant. If nothing else, at least the marriage would get you out.
Several offers had been made. It seems the Romanoff Matriarch liked women, and the Pierce empire also put in a bid for his youngest son. The one that surprised you the most, however, was James Buchanan Barnes. His was a family made of people who didn’t have a home, jokingly called The Lost Boys by Brock and his lackeys. While he had no family power, he was indisputably powerful.
“So which one do you think, Princess? Any of these would make great allies for our family. That Romanoff girl is quite a catch, she’s got fire in her.” You put on your best business mask, looking over the files.
“Yeah . . . She is pretty great, but the Romanoffs only control most of the upper East side. We have the South, which is almost double the size of the upper East. The smartest choice is Barnes. His White Wolf family controls the North and the parts of the East that the Romanoffs don’t.” You close the folders and lay them on the desk. “First choice is Barnes, second choice is Romanoff, and third choice is Pierce. He’s always given me the creeps though.” Rumlow Senior smirked, impressed with your choices.
“Spoken like a true businesswoman. Let’s have a wedding!”
Within the next two months, you and Barnes were married.
“Please sit still?” You kept dabbing the medical wipe on his bloodied knuckles despite the mobster’s squirming. “I know it stings, but you did this to yourself. Besides, are you gonna sit here and tell me that you can punch a man multiple times, but you turn into a toddler when I have to clean a cut?” Barnes kept looking down, his face forever brooding. He didn’t answer, but did still his hand. “There. Was that so hard?” You busied yourself putting away the first aid kit.
“You aren’t comfortable around me, are you?” His statement caught you off guard and your head snapped up to look at him. His expression was relaxed. This wasn’t the kingpin that had just beat information out of a Pierce Empire lackey. He sighed, rolling his shoulders. “I don’t think a lot of people would be, especially witnessing what you just did . . . I’m sorry you had to see that.” You chew on your lip and Barnes continued. “I know you were raised with the Rumlows, and I guess I just assumed that you’d be used to seeing that sort of thing.” He paused, waiting for your response, but seemed genuinely taken aback when you started to giggle.
“You think I’ve been distant because of a little violence? James–”
“Bucky,” he interrupted. “Please, call me Bucky.” A soft smile breaks through your mask.
“Bucky,” you corrected. “I’ve done worse than that to Rumlow thugs when they failed to follow my father’s orders. I wasn’t shielded from any of it. In fact, I was even offered control of the Rumlow family. I turned it down. Given the choice, I’d rather not be the cause of violence, but violence doesn't bother me ”
“Then what does?” His eyebrows knit together in confusion, and you sit across from him on the tile floor
“About the beating or the relationship?”
“Uuhh . . . both, I guess?” You’d never heard Barnes sound so unsure. It was refreshing, even endearing to a degree.
“I’ve been treated like a bargaining chip since I was little. First, my mother, then my adoptive father on multiple occasions. Our marriage was just another business deal to him, and I didn’t think you’d want a clingy business deal. You get alliance with the Rumlows, and I get to keep my protection. I don’t see a reason to complicate things.” Bucky was quiet for a few moments.
“And the beating?”
“Oh, that one’s easy. It’s really hard for someone to give you information if you don’t give them a break in between blows to answer your questions. Seriously, that’s basically mafia 101.” Bucky burst out laughing at your cheeky response. People didn’t usually talk to him like that, they were all too afraid.
“I’ll give you that one, Doll,” he stated as he regained control of himself. He stared at you, taking in your every feature. After a few moments, you broke the silence.
“You’re thinking something, Bucky. What’s on your mind?”
“I’m thinking that I’d like to make this relationship a little more complicated . . . what about you?”
You had kept your own room, but from then on things with your new husband just seemed . . . easier. You spent most of that night talking about how you really came to be a part of the Rumlow family, and how you had opted for marriage because it was the closest thing to your own life that you’d ever have. In turn, Bucky began to open up about his past. How working for other groups had landed him with a metal left arm and a distrust of most people. How his time as a fixer had caused most people to fear him, and therefore avoid him. He didn’t really have friends outside of Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson, and they both worked for him. You got the sense that he chose to have his marriage arranged because he thought it was easier than the alternative for someone like him.
“You know . . . you don’t have to be alone.” You had told him one night.
“And what do you mean by that, Doll?” He had questioned you, raising an eyebrow as he set down his bourbon glass.
“You say you’re alone because people are afraid, but that’s not completely true. You can’t fool me, Buck. I was raised with the potential to do the job you do. You aren’t alone because people are afraid, but because you don’t give them the opportunity to not be.” Bucky was quiet, but watched you with a fascination. You place your drink on the side table and lean forward. You’d come to enjoy the nights that you and Bucky would just sit and talk. It was a welcome escape from the monotony of everyday life and the drain of keeping up social appearances. Both of you were relieved when you could drop the masks and the roles that you were each expected to play and just exist with another person who didn’t judge you. Who didn’t hold any expectations apart from honesty. Your husband takes another sip, trying to hide the smile that played across his face.
“And what would you suggest I do instead, Sweetheart?” God you loved the intensity of his gaze, and as he ran his tongue over his lower lip, you decided that you were feeling brave. You stood, sauntering over to him. Bucky leaned back in his seat, setting his drink down and allowing you to lean over him, your lips brushing his neck.
“Ask.” That singular word whispered in his ear broke Bucky’s self control. His right hand flew to your neck, pulling your lips to his. You felt the cool metal of his left hand pressing into your thigh as he slid your skirt up, allowing you the mobility to straddle his lap. You press yourself against him as you whine, desperate for his touch. You didn’t sleep much that night, being pushed to the edge over and over and over, only to be brought back without release. Bucky loved watching you struggle. He loved your willingness to fight, and he wanted to watch as the fight drained from you and you submitted to his will. He knew you had been playing the roles expected of you your whole life so here, behind closed doors, he would earn your submission, not demand it. You would choose when you broke, but once you did? Bucky was going to ruin you, and he was going to savor every moment
After that night, you rarely slept in your own room. Your marriage was transactional, no one could deny that. Through the years, however, it had become so much more. You became one of the most powerful couples in the city, though you still kept your distance from the world of crime. Your diplomacy was unrivaled, but one night, that all came crashing down.
Your brother, Brock, had taken the role of Rumlow Patriarch when your father stepped down. For years, Brock’s temper had been controlled by your father’s background guidance. That all changed the night Rumlow Senior passed away. You attended the funeral, of course, but he passed suddenly. Bucky was out of town on a business trip and unable to make it back in time for the event. You passed along his condolences to Brock, but Brock took your husband’s absence extremely personally. Without the watchful eye of Rumlow Senior, Brock Rumlow’s true nature shone through. Brock was a loose cannon. His temper was unmatched, and his ego caused him to completely disregard the rules that every other family played by. For months after the funeral, the street thugs under your brother’s command ran rampant. They overstepped boundaries and lines of control held by other families as well as started fights wherever the opportunity arose. One night, they went too far. Three of Bucky’s new recruits had been carried back to the office after your brother’s thugs beat them almost to death. All they had done was refuse to leave the bar that they were already drinking at when the Rumlow thugs showed up, stating that the two groups could co-exist. These were just kids, barely old enough to even be IN the bar, and with six men versus the three kids, it was a massacre. Adding insult to injury? That bar was on White Wolf property and owned by Steve Rogers, one of Bucky’s right hands. Bucky had come home fuming that night. You talked him down from murdering your brother on the spot. You had no love for your brother, but murder would result in an all-out war. You spent the better part of the night with Bucky, Sam, and Steve readying yourselves for several outcomes. The following night, Bucky went to have a civil meeting with Brock, Mob Boss to Mob Boss about the behavior of his subordinates. Steve and Sam went on patrol hoping to stop another encounter, and you went to meet with Natasha Romanoff, the Matriarch of the Romanoff family. If this all went south, you would need an ally in order to take your brother in an all out war.
So that’s how you got here. Standing in your husband’s office surrounded by the aftermath of a ransacking. Your shoulders fell back and your chin lifted. If Brock wanted a fight, you’d give it to him. Brock may be the head of the Rumlow Family, but with Bucky currently indisposed, you were the head of White Wolf. Time to show him what his Little Sister was capable of when someone threatened her family. You headed straight to your room. If you were going to be acting as the White Wolf Matriarch, then you should look the part. You slide into your black business leggings. They look like skinny cut pants, but provide enough flexibility for you to move. A flowy black blouse pairs nicely, accompanied by several gold accessories. You favored rings and necklaces, but added a couple cuff bracelets for good measure. Your knee high riding boots with the steel toe inserts were pulled from your closet. Your winged liner was sharp enough to stab a man was accompanied by a dark lip and perfect brows. Finally, you swept your hair up into a sleek high ponytail. You take one look in the mirror, and your appearance plus the cold hearted look in your eyes made you smirk.
“The bitch is back,” you thought to yourself. You pulled a duffel bag out from under your bed. You hadn’t much from your mother, but you did keep her favorite set of knives. They were well known as the choice weapons for Lady Death, and that fear could serve your purposes. Strapping the wrist holsters to each wrist, you frowned. This blouse was nice, but it didn’t hide the knives well enough for your liking. . . You slipped several more into your boots as you heard Steve’s car pull up. You turned to rush out the door when you paused. One of Bucky’s black suit jackets was draped over the chair by your door. It was far too big for you to wear, but if you draped it over your shoulders . . . You tried it out in the mirror. It worked, hanging off your shoulders like a cape. The extra fabric also provided the cover to your wrists needed to conceal your wrist sheaths better. You grab your phone and head down the stairs to meet Steve.
“Sweetheart, I don’t think this is a good–”
“Well, then it’s a good thing your job isn’t thinking right now, Rogers.” The blatant interruption caught both men off guard. “You’re going to listen carefully because I’m only explaining this once. The story you’ve been fed about the Rumlows taking me in out of the goodness of their hearts is complete and utter bullshit. My mother worked off her debt to them, and I was kept as collateral. She taught me a lot of what she knew. I was raised as a Rumlow and was offered control of the Family because of my brother’s inability to control his temper or play by the rules. You can either do what I tell you, or you can explain to Mr. Barnes when we return why you didn’t accompany me. Are there any questions?” Whether it be the lack of emotion in your eyes or the ice in your voice, you didn’t know, but neither man argued. Wilson was the first one to speak up.
“ . . . Who’s your mom?” You look Sam dead in the eye, smirk, and with a flick of your wrist you impale one of the knives in your wrist sheath in the ground between his feet. Both Sam and Steve go pale with recognition.
“My mother was Lady Death.”
The Door to the interrogation room blew inward. C4 was such an amazing toy, you were so happy that Sam kept a stash. Hands in your pockets, you step over the twisted remains of the door, the dust settling at your feet. Immediately you hear the click of guns, but that only pulls a sadistic smirk to your face.
“Hello, boys. For those of you who don’t know who I am: look to your elders. For those of you who do: Run.” It was your brother's right hand and childhood friend, Justin, who spoke first.
“Y/N, didn’t expect to see you join the party.” He swaggered up to you, full of confidence that only an upper class white man could possess. He loomed over you, and you weren’t sure if he was trying to be sexy or intimidating. Neither was a good look on him. “What’s your problem, princess? Did we break up your little game of house?” You look up at the taller man, not budging an inch.
“Oh not at all, champ, I just thought I’d give you and your little friends a chance to play in the big leagues. Only three of them? Shouldn’t be much work.”
“Hey, Lady, I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but –” Justin interrupts him before you have the chance.
“That’s Barnes’s wife, dumbass. She’s the Boss’s adopted sister, and the last person you wanna piss off.”
“She don’t seem so scary, all of her power comes from other people! Why should I–”
“You’d be well to listen to your superiors, or haven’t you learned that yet?” The ice in your voice stopped the newbie dead in his tracks. You stalk towards him, eyes fixed. “Let’s give you a family history lesson, hmm?” You had the undivided attention of all four of the Rumlow thugs. You just needed to keep it that way long enough for Steve and Sam to work into position. You stopped in the dead center of the room “ Justin, how many years ago was Lady Death’s final kill?”
“Uuhh . . . five years? Just before you married Barnes.”
“Good Boy,” you purred, working as much condescension into your voice as you could manage. “And how many years ago did my mother die?” As he did the mental math, Justin began to shift uncomfortably.
“ . . . Seven . . . no, Nine? Nine years ago . . .” As the dots started to connect, the realization began to show on each man’s face. Your smirk grew to a full-on sadistic smile.
“Let’s try this again, gentlemen. Whether or not you know who I am, it’s too late. I’m Lady Death.” The tension is palpable in the air as the newbies eye you, then the door, as if evaluating their chances, but your backup was already in position. From the rafters of the building, four shots rang out. You’d ordered Steve and Sam to aim to kill, but you hadn’t bothered to check their handiwork, simply stepping over the bodies and making your way towards the last door that stood between you and your brother.
The door creaked open, and your rubber soles thudded against the concrete with each step you took. No matter how hardened to violence you were, you had never cared about any of the people on the receiving end of your violence. No matter how hard you tried, nothing could have prepared for the sight that met you on the other side of that godforsaken door. Bucky was sat in a metal chair. His arms were tied behind his back, and a gag was stuffed in his mouth. His white dress shirt had been discarded, and his undershirt was torn. The bridge of his nose was cut, and someone had busted open his left cheek. Dried blood still caked his skin. The moment he saw you, his eyes filled with fury. He fought against his restraints, almost toppling the chair.
“Aaaah, Y/N, nice of you to join us! Can’t have a party without Daddy’s favorite kid,” Brock spat at you. You study your brother, willing your face back to neutrality.
“You know just as well as I do that that isn’t true, Brother mine.” If your calm demeanor threw Brock off guard, he didn’t show it.
“Well, Sister mine, your husband here had the audacity to tell me how to run my people, after refusing to even honor our father. Our father who spoke of him like the Golden Son just for marrying the whore who wormed her way into my life!” By the end of his statement, Brock was screaming. He took a moment and regained his composure.
“Do you really think that was a good move?” As you questioned Brock, you walked over to a spare folding chair. You let the jacket fall from your shoulders, draping it over the back of the chair.
“I can make whatever move I want. Dad may have taught you everything you know, but he taught me everything he knew. That’s the difference here, Wendy. That is what you are, aren’t you? The Wendy to his pathetic troupe of Lost Boys.” Locking eyes with him, your smirk returns.
“See, that’s where you’re wrong, Brock. Dad isn’t the only one who taught me things. My mother lived here too, remember?” Brock’s eyes narrow, tracking you as you slowly close the distance between you and him. “How do you explain the kills on Lady Death’s roster after my mother passed, hmm? Think about it.” You could see the gears turning in Brock’s thick skull before he shook his head.
“You lying bitch, you’re trying to play on my nerves. You turned down this job because you weren’t capable” You interrupt, starting to slide one of your knives from the wrist sheath into your hand.
“I turned that job down because I wasn’t interested. Never mistake my disinterest for being incapable.” You flick your wrist, your knife landing squarely in the meat of Brock’s shoulder.
He lunged at you, and the only thing you could focus on was the exchange of blows. He was a lot faster than you’d anticipated, and you were fairly evenly matched. You registered the pain of his blows connecting multiple times, but you pushed it down and attempted to return the favor. Suddenly, you felt his fist connect with the side of your face, then an arm wrapped around your waist. Brock spun, throwing you across the room. You hit the wall with a sickening smack, the wind being knocked from your lungs. Your brother slowly started stalking towards you. He was breathing heavily and wiped the blood from his upper lip as he walked, never taking his eyes off you. Brock grabbed your jaw, dragging you upwards, and you did the only thing you could think of. You slipped a knife out of your boot, and jammed it into him on your way up. Both you and him fell, Brock’s head hitting the ground with a sickening smack. You hauled yourself up, steadying yourself against the wall. You grabbed your brother by his hair, yanking his head up.
“You’re a fucking disgrace to this family and all that Dad stood for.” You paused, spitting out the blood that was pooling in your mouth.
“What the fuck happened??” You heard Sam shout as he and Steve finally caught up. You looked from your brother to Sam, steeling your gaze.
“Change in management,” you stated. “Send out a notice. Due to extremely reckless behavior that nearly started a war, Brock Rumlow has been removed as Patriarch of the Rumlow family. Its territories and personnel will be merged into White Wolf. Any concerns can be taken up with Lady Death.”
You turn your attention to Bucky, picking up one of your discarded knives to cut the ropes and gag off of him.
“Doll, that has got to be one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen.” Your satisfaction definitely showed on your face. After taking a moment to catch your breath, you pick the discarded suit jacket off the back of the folding chair and hand it to Bucky, leaning on him for support. Bucky pauses, glancing between Steve and Rumlow.
“Bring him back to the office. We’re not going to be done talking for a very long time.”
Tags: @vbecker10 @soubi001 @brattymum96 @vicmc624 @caritobbg @winterslove1917 @xonickibaby @youngblood199456 @thehumanistsdiary @ozymdias @thomase1
#Winter Soldier#Winter soldier x you#winter soldier x y/n#winter soldier x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x reader#buky barnes x you#Mafia!Bucky#Mob!Bucky#Mob AU#Mafia AU#Mafia!Bucky x reader#Mafia!Bucky x y/n#Mafia!Bucky x you#Mob!Bucky x y/n#Mob!Bucky x you#Mob!Bucky x reader#tense#fan fiction#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky buchanan barnes
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Redacted-Tober Day 14: Milo and "Night"
Hello. It's me. I wanted to have more written for this but actually everything is crazy right now. Anyway it's Milo day and my birthday so let's get into this little... script-ish idk what this is.
So... I was thinking what if Milo had a date not long after starting to date Sweetheart and was like "shit. How do I talk about the mates thing? How do you tell someone you want to be serious?" and I had the genius thought of him calling his mom (aka @frenchiefitzhere The Real Marie Greer, will The Real Marie Greer please stand up) and generally just asking how she knew about Colm.
And then FRENCHIE BASICALLY SPOKE IT FOR ME???
SO ACTUALLY ALL CREDIT TO FRENCHIE
[Milo looking at his phone, his reflection in the mirror, and back at his phone as if tortured]
“Ugh. Yeah, time to phone a friend.”
Marie: hello?
Milo: hey ma, you got a minute
Marie: yeah I just - what are you doing calling me this late-
Milo: ma, I’m on a time crunch, I just need-
Marie: alright, alright, gimme [yawn] one second
[impatient Milo noises]
Marie: y’know kid they just don’t make bodies like they used to
Milo: ma-
Marie: I gotta stretch first
Milo: Ma, it’s just a phone call you don’t need to -
Marie: yeah I know it’s just a phone call and I gotta stretch
Milo: ugh.
Marie: ok, ok, what’s going on that you needed to call me this late?
Milo: ma it’s 9pm - whatever, look I just think tonight I’m gonna tell them about you know, mates and that and like they already probably have some idea - I mean cmon they’re empowered they have to know some stuff and so they probably know but like I want to talk to them about you know what that means and-
Marie: Milo - Milo slow down, slow
Milo: I just I don’t know how to bring it up
Marie: So this one’s special huh?
Milo: Ma, focus
Marie: None of my business, ok, alright. So you’ve been on dates before, what’re you calling for?
Milo: I guess… you know, what did… How did you know… with dad.
Marie: your father, well you know how we met, you’ve heard it a million times. I mean it’s nothing to write home about, it wasn’t that impressive. But you know what stood out is that he stood up for me. Lots of times.
Milo: He stood up for you?
Marie: I know I don’t need anyone to stand up for me - that’s kinda the point, you know, that he did it anyway. I don’t know if you know this about me, but your ma’s kind of a tough broad. But sometimes when you’re tough people forget you got a softer side and you could use caring for to - but not your father. From that first day we started going out you know - he knew I could handle myself and got between me and some idiot and almost got beat up for it anyway. And - how did you meet this person, huh?
Milo: Ma, that’s not what I’m here to talk about
Marie: You’re not gonna tell me? How long do you think that’s gonna last? Enjoy your little secret while you can, cause I’m gonna figure you out. You know I’ve sniffed out every little secret of yours since you could talk.
Milo: Ma, can you please focus.
Marie: Yeah, yeah, I’m gonna figure you out. I got your number Milo Greer. Anyway, after that… Well I can’t tell you everything that happened or else you’re gonna lose your lunch-
Milo: oh my god, gross, GROSS
Marie: Oh grow up Milo, you asked. Anyway, your father had the classic moves, you know, took me to dinner, a walk in the park. Nothing fancy but it was classic - and that’s what you’re gonna do. You got this Milo, you don’t gotta worry about all this. I mean, you like this person right?
Milo: Yeah… yeah I do.
Marie: So you’ll be fine, you’ll be a little nervous and a little off your game but you’ll land on your feet. You can’t do everything perfect, you gotta let it happen. And if they like you, they’ll like that it’s imperfect.
Milo: Are you sure?
Marie: Oh Milo, did I pop your bubble? Did you think you were perfect?
Milo: Ma-
Marie: I mean I think you’re perfect but that’s because I’m your mother-
Milo: Ma-
Marie: I don’t think everybody else is gonna think that-
Milo: Shoot, ma I think I gotta go. Sorry to cut you off
Marie: it’s alright - look, call me if you’re getting yourself up in your head again but you got this. You’ve done this a million times, but maybe this one’s a little bit different. This might go somewhere, huh?
Milo: Oh my god, bye Ma
Marie: What? Okay, alright-
Milo: love you Ma
Marie: love you too, be safe, bye
#speed run#redacted audio#redactedasmr#redacted asmr#redacted#redactedverse#redacted-tober 2023#hey lexi. did i tag this right? plz confirm#EVERYONE GIVE IT UP FOR FRENCHIE PLEASE ONE OF MY PARTNERS IN GATING BALDURS#writing tag
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Dona Dona: There’s a Calf With a Mournful Eye
William knows he was born for one purpose: to receive his six lives and bring about the rule of the Devils of Orange-Nassau. But it takes a lot to make someone believe that, and much more to make them want it. So, how did William get to that point? What brought him to where he is now, in the main story? What was his first life like and what led up to its untimely end? I hope to answer these questions here ◉‿◉
The title comes from the old song "Dona Dona," about a calf being led to slaughter. There are many good covers out there, but the English one where I drew inspiration from is here, by Joan Baez.
The first chapter is just a story about a boy and his destiny. Please enjoy! Here is the AO3 link.
CW: domestic violence, abuse of a disabled child, cult-like setting, religious indoctrination, child forced to commit crimes, implied/referenced genocide, implied/referenced child murder, child soldiers, torture, murder, terrorism, pedophilia, father/son incest, explicit child sexual abuse.
The Devils of Orange-Nassau were very old. That was the first thing William learned about his destiny— that it was intertwined with the history of the ancients, that the Overlifers had always been there to oppose the Allies, that one day the world would be ruled by the six-lived heroes and everything would go the way William wanted it to.
That was what his father said. His mother equally believed in it, but whereas her husband was sure that this reign would come about in his lifetime, she was adamant that William would be the one to fulfill the destiny of the Devils. He was sure of it, too; he was young, but it had been all he heard about in the time he’d spent on this earth.
You’re going to kill a lot of people, William. What a thing to say to a four-year-old. Upon reflection, it was supposed to disturb him, but how could it disturb him when his mother seemed so proud of him? And five extra lives— now that was something to think about. Someone like him would need it.
He had no idea how they worked, though. Would he run through a life first and then move on to the next one? Did that mean he’d live for maybe four hundred years? Five hundred? He thought that maybe that was the case, because apparently having six lives meant your aging would slow dramatically.
His father was old too, like the Devils of Orange-Nassau. He didn’t look like it, but he was almost eighty. And yet his aim was as sharp as ever, his horns sharper still, and his reflexes swifter than a dwaallicht’s.
“I wish you could get your six lives already,” his mother would say. “That way you would never grow up. You’d stay my fierce little William forever.”
No! He’d shake his head indignantly. Need to get big.
Seeing the expression on his face, she’d squeeze him and laugh. It was a laugh still so youthful and light, and he only learned much later that she had been twenty-one at the time. Twenty-one and already tied to the Devils, just like he was. There were whispers that she’d been an enemy once, what with her Eastern tail and horns, but she was here now.
Someone so destined to rule the world like he was had to learn how to end lives. So he was only five when his father drove him to an empty warehouse. He didn’t know much about this whole murdery business yet, but he knew he was terrified as his father first led him, and then had to push him, inside the building.
“What are you crying about?” his father asked, slamming the door shut behind them. Now they were standing in total darkness, and William began to wail, clinging on to his father’s tail.
“Enough, William!” It wasn’t the first time his father had hit him, and it wasn’t that hard; still, William only cried louder when his father slapped him away. “How do you expect to kill anyone when you can’t even let go of me?” There was a sharp clicking sound, and then the lights turned on, and William slowly stopped crying as he took in the sight.
Empty was an understatement. This place felt as if the devils themselves had reached up from the ground and swallowed up all life here. He didn’t need the light to realize it was also incredibly dusty in here; when he started to cough, he couldn’t stop.
“What? It’s not that bad.” His father nudged him forward with his tail. “Come on, they’re waiting for us.”
William followed him to another, smaller room, where there were indeed people waiting for them. They bowed their heads when they saw them enter, but William noticed a strange look in their eyes as they glanced at him. He pinpointed it later on as pity.
Before them sat what appeared to be a man at first glance, but William could tell that this wasn’t any ordinary human, nor even a human at all. His eyes, well, he had five of them, with four horns, and when he opened his mouth to hiss at them, William caught sight of his teeth like knives. He was reassured by seeing the creature’s neck chained back to a pole, but he still looked as if he could spring at them at any moment.
“Well? Aren’t you going to ask what it is?” his father said.
William cleared his throat, trying to stifle his coughs. He didn’t know why his father asked him questions as if he could answer them. He only stared helplessly at the creature.
“Dwaallicht spirit, little one,” said the stranger. He turned to William’s father. “What are you doing, bringing a child here?”
“He is my son,” the Overlifer answered simply. “He is here to watch you die.”
“I don’t mind dying,” the spirit said, “but that boy shouldn’t be here.”
He lifted his head loftily. Like being here! His lungs were telling him otherwise, though, and he turned away, coughing into the fluffy tip of his tail.
“Insolent spirit,” his father said. “One day this boy will rule the world. And creatures like you will cower before him. It’s all you know how to do.”
William stood up taller. There was never pride in his father’s voice when he said that, it was more of just a simple fact he would state, but it still made William feel like he could take on all the Allies in the world.
“He shouldn’t be seeing things like this.”
“Enough talk. William, watch carefully.” And then his father took out a knife and cut the spirit’s tongue out.
It wasn’t that quick, of course, but later on, that was the only detail William could remember. He was glad he managed to forget it with time, but in the moment, he watched the spirit writhe and screech in defiance and pain, blood spilling from its mouth, and his father didn’t flinch. He didn’t even jeer at the way the remnant was now crying, when before he had been so defiant. He only stared.
“You spirits will learn to respect us,” he said. He glanced back at William, who felt dizzy. He was wheezing, the breaths long and slow and painful. “Do you want to finish it, William?”
He shook his head rapidly.
His father shrugged. ���Very well. Once you’re done with them, you want to finish it off quick. That’s when you use the gun.” He took out his gun and blew on the tip, rubbing his finger over it in a strange, elaborate motion. “Normal guns don’t work on the dwaallicht remnants, so you have to give it the touch of an Overlifer. We are more powerful than even the Allies themselves, remember that.”
Don’t shoot him. William was shaking. He’d never quite registered the idea of death in his head; it was mentioned often, how he would have to learn to kill, but he didn’t understand what that meant, considering his father had evaded it so often. He didn’t know it meant causing pain to living humans. Or spirits, he supposed.
Will it hurt? he wanted to ask. His father was good at making things hurt.
The gunshot was the loudest thing he’d ever heard. He swore he’d never forget that. The dwaallicht spirit vanished with an odd, hollow shriek, and William covered his ears, coughing and crying with the agonized screams still replaying in his head. There was so much blood here, he’d never clear the smell out of his nose.
“Hey.” His father flicked his horn. “Calm down. It’s like this for everyone at first.”
The image of the spirit with blood streaming from its mouth came to William’s head again, and this time he vomited on the ground. He retched and wheezed and realized he seriously couldn’t breathe, he needed to get out of here. He looked up at his father, who only rolled his eyes and took his hand.
“Come on. You’ll get used to it.”
From then on his father took him to every meeting, every torture session, every execution, despite his wife’s protests. She said that he was too young, that he didn’t need to know this yet, that other boys went to school and played games and this wasn’t normal. William had privately agreed with her at first, but when his father began to get agitated, his mother would quiet down, and she ordered him to do so as well. That didn’t stop him from crying when his father shot someone, or when his hostages screamed.
But he did get used to it. He learned not to cry soon enough, because his father would slap him and tell him not to cry in front of his future subordinates. He learned to swallow down his tears and tolerate the smell of blood in a shaky silence.
He finally realized what being an Overlifer meant. It meant hurting people to get what you want. His mother told him that it wasn’t normal for him to take part in this violence, that no other child did.
“You couldn’t have waited until he was fifteen?” he heard his mother say to his father one night. “I know that he has to get used to it, but he’s so small! We have to send him to school, at least. He needs friends, he needs to grow up first. Give him time.”
“He has all the time in the world,” his father hissed back. “Six lives, to be exact!”
“He doesn’t have them yet.”
“And he never will if we spoil him.”
“Letting him go to school is not—”
“Mary.” William tensed as he heard his father stand, heard the warning in his voice, and he rushed out of his room, halting in between his parents. He shuddered as his father’s fiery eyes raked over him.
“Go to your room, William.”
Say something. William looked around wildly, letting out a small cry, and his father sighed.
“Write it down here.”
Thank you. He blinked gratefully up at him, then hopped onto his lap, writing down in a messy scrawl the words he hoped would save his mother, at least for tonight.
Like helping you. Sir, he quickly added.
“William,” his mother said. “You don’t understand. This isn’t normal. You don’t know what normal looks like.”
He turned, narrowing his eyes at her. Then what did it look like?
“He shouldn’t know what it looks like.” His father knelt beside him, tapping William’s shoulder with his tail. “A future Overlifer isn’t supposed to live a normal life. You’re very special, William, don’t let anyone —including your mother— tell you otherwise.”
His mother only stared at him, and he figured out later that she had looked at him with sadness.
Being an Overlifer means you hurt people to get what you want. Now that statement filled him with pride, with the knowledge that only the Devils of Orange-Nassau were ruthless and smart enough to twist the world’s destiny in their fingers, whatever the cost.
It was hard to remember that sometimes, though, when his father was driving a knife over and over again into someone’s face, and William was being splashed with the blood. So he devised a method that he thought was quite clever— he stopped thinking of them as humans, or even dwaallicht spirits. He thought of them as tools, as means to an end, and astonishingly, it worked. The blood became artificial to him, the begging automated.
It’s okay, they’re supposed to do that. Happens when you stab them. All the same and not real. When they die they help us.
He was seven when his father first gave him a gun. “You’ve seen me shoot plenty. Kill this guy.”
It was true. His father had slowly been teaching him how to use a gun, how to load it, how not to spook at the sound. Truth be told, it still scared him, but he knew better than to cover his ears now. Otherwise his father would walk by him and tug at those very ears. William was afraid he’d rip his gold earring right off.
So the first time he fired a gun was the first time he also killed someone. His father wasn’t proud; he never was, said it’d only teach his son to do everything for the approval of others, and an Overlifer shouldn’t bend over backwards for other people. But William’s heart still jumped and twisted in his chest when his father nodded at him once.
“Good.”
The news spread quickly among the Devils of Orange-Nassau, that the seven-year-old heir had killed someone. William would have felt worse about it if his father’s vassals didn’t look at him in a new way, not with pity and mockery but with a newfound respect. No other boy in the world had that. He would have felt worse if he hadn’t already learned his new strategy, to forget the humanity in everyone else.
He noticed his mother wasn’t as present anymore. She wouldn’t speak to him as she had when he was younger, encouraging his little fantasies about ruling the world. Now all she told him were warnings.
“Treat every gun like it’s loaded.”
“Make sure you wash the blood off your horns before you go outside again.”
“Don’t speak to anyone who isn’t a Devil of Orange-Nassau. No one at all.”
“Listen to your father.”
“Obey your father.”
“Keep him happy.”
That last piece of advice was the only thing he was starting to hear from her. And truly, he wished he could keep his father happy for the both of them, but there was nothing he could ever do to satisfy the older William. Nothing he could even say.
His father came into his room once, with an expression unusually gleeful and his actions just the same. He asked William what he was doing, asked him to explain what he was playing with.
Horses. William held up the little figures of horses his mother had gotten him for his birthday.
“Ah, horses.” Smoke poured out of his mouth as he spoke. “Can you say that, William?”
William hesitated before shaking his head.
“Go on. How will you ever put the fear of Ferocity into the hearts of your enemies? It begins with words.”
Not with eyes? William had always been unnerved by his father’s stare. He was sure everyone else was too.
“What do you have a tongue for, then?” His father’s voice lowered as he stood back up, and William’s heart stopped. He knew what was coming. He braced himself for it, shutting his eyes, but when the blow never came, he tentatively looked up, coughing at the cigarette smoke that seemed to stick itself in his throat.
“Open.”
William tilted his head to the side, and his father slapped him. William staggered to the side, shaking his head dazedly.
“I said open. Let me see your mouth.”
William opened his mouth, his tail shivering. He watched his father look curiously down at his cigarette, and then he pressed it down on William’s tongue.
He screamed, falling back and coughing so hard that his whole body was trembling when he was done. Even so, he kept wheezing for breath, trying to catch it, and faintly he realized that there was a disgusting taste on his tongue. He turned away and spat on the ground, trying to clear it away.
“Your tongue okay?” His father shoved him in his shoulder.
“A-Ah—” It had burned initially, but he realized it was no worse than when he burned his tongue with hot tea. He looked up and nodded.
“Then why are you crying?”
He was crying. He wiped at his tears and shook his head.
“I’ll get some use out of your tongue,” his father said, “even if you won’t.”
Things like that. William never worried about it— he was afraid, of course, of what his father could do to him and his mother if they angered him, but that was the way things were supposed to be. An Overlifer had to command fear, and respect. He hated being afraid, he hated being hit, and that was alright because that was the point. His father was allowed to hurt people, that was just who he was.
He was stupid enough, though, to forget that he was afraid, and sometimes he watched his father’s frustration with him with satisfaction. Maybe it was because he knew he would be an Overlifer too. Maybe it was because his father was starting to annoy him.
His mother knew this. “It doesn’t matter what you think of him. You have to listen to him, you have to be safe. Remember what you were born for.”
He doesn’t remember it!
But his father seemed as content as ever to lead him into danger, to treat William as this indestructible little weapon he could pull out whenever he wished. It wasn’t that William was threatening, though he liked to think that he was. It was just that most of his father’s enemies blanched at the thought of hurting a young boy, even if that young boy in question was going to grow up and kill them all. So his father would bring him along for negotiations, so when they pulled a gun on him, he would have William protest by running up and tugging at his father’s sleeve.
And then, most of the time, they’d remember that they couldn’t fight William yet, they had to wait until he was older. So they calmed down, but he noticed their glares from across the table. He wished he knew what that meant.
Unfortunately, the man who had first taught him to read words had never taught him to read faces. That was Johan de Witt, a stern man with long, upright horns that bent back at the ends and a tail like a deer’s. William didn’t like him— he was too familiar, too sure of where his position lay amongst the Devils of Orange-Nassau. When he spoke to William, it was as if he forgot he was speaking to his future leader. And when he spoke about William’s father, it was as if he forgot just how dangerous that man was.
“I hate what he does, little prince. To everyone, I mean, but it’s with you he seems to cross the line.”
What line? William lifted his head. No one was supposed to hate his father! That meant they were traitors and deserved to die. Maybe he should tell his mother.
“Your mother’s right, you know. You shouldn’t be seeing all this.”
That was the first instance of treachery. William knew he was only saying it because he couldn’t tell anyone, but he swore that if he should ever speak, it was the first thing he would say to his father. And then, finally, his father would smile at him. Genuinely.
One night after he’d recently turned eight, there was another instance, when de Witt knocked on his door after his mother had left. William thought she’d come back to hold him; she’d stopped doing that when he was five, but he missed it. But no, it was only de Witt, holding a few books and ordering him to sit at his desk. That part was just absurd, no one ordered the heir of Orange-Nassau to do anything, but de Witt’s horns were big and his promises were bigger.
“No one wants you to learn this. Do you know why, William? Because it’ll make you better than them. It’ll make you smarter. That’s what your father is so afraid of. That’s why you don’t go to school.”
William’s eyes widened. An advantage over everyone...even his father...that sounded tempting.
“Do you want to make your father fear you?”
He nodded rapidly, and so de Witt had sat next to him and had shown him the history of the universe, starting with the Nine Honors that the original dwaallichten, not the spirits, had used to create everything William had ever known.
“That is why we worship them, William. The dwaallichten, and their remnants, are not some meaningless ghosts. They’re why we’re all here.”
Then there was the history of the devils, how they were, in reality, remnants that grew strong enough from those very first beginnings to call themselves more than spirits; they were devils.
“You know, most people don’t know that, William. The devils did that on purpose. To create a separation between themselves and the remnants. But really, they’re not so different. A spirit is just one step away from becoming a devil...unfortunately, it takes power to reach that step.”
The first devil was named Ferocity, and she had four children. Three daughters and a son. When those children grew strong enough, they had killed her with the help of the humans, and that was how the Four Kingdoms of the devils’ realm came to be.
“What do you think, William?” De Witt’s eyes glinted. “Can a child kill their parent? Should the child kill their parent?”
William stared down at the page they were on. It showed a simplified version of one of the most famous paintings in the world, five hundred years old, showing the four children spearing their mother in the heart. She was roaring furiously at the skies, and at her feet stood the humans, their heads bowed before their new rulers.
“That was how it all began, William,” de Witt told him. “When we used to have monarchs, the heirs didn’t wait for their parents to die. They had to kill them themselves. It was the only way. This is where the tradition came from, the Law of Honorable Succession.”
Tradition. Old tale. Old as time. William brushed a finger over the single male devil portrayed there, the only son, his gaze steady as he looked at his dying mother. Triumphant, but only in silence.
“That’s the ruler of the Western Kingdom,” de Witt said. “In our language, his name is William, too.”
Really? William turned his head sharply towards him.
De Witt chuckled. “Yes. Why do you think it’s such a common name?” He checked his watch and raised his eyebrows. “Well, little prince, I’ll leave you alone now. I’ve kept you up for long enough.” He started gathering the books, but William sprung on the one with the painting in it, growling.
“Oh, you want to keep that one? Can you read it by yourself?”
William nodded, and de Witt laughed, reaching down to pat him in between his horns. “Very well. Just make sure your father doesn’t see it.”
He watched de Witt leave, and then he turned back, staring down at William the devil. For a moment, he suddenly understood how a whole world could worship him for thousands and thousands of years, how any common person would look at him and be driven to hope and love. He thought he was almost tempted to do the same.
Why not? Nothing wrong. Can do anything I want. He closed the book, kicked it under his bed, and then sat on his knees over his pillow. He realized then he had no idea how to pray to the devils like everyone else did. It was his father that was the supreme being here.
Make up, then. He took a breath and wondered if the devil would be able to hear him if he couldn’t speak out loud.
Hello, William. Same name, right? That’s cool. You and me, I mean. Read about you. You killed your mother? Were you sad? Couldn’t do that. I mean, me. Couldn’t do that. Please protect her. My mother. She’s scared. Would do it, I mean me, would do it, but too small. No lives yet. Only one. Never said that before. True, though, no? Maybe scared too. Not supposed to be but yes, scared. People love you. Want to see if reason for it is real. Okay, good night.
He knew it was wrong as soon as he was done. The Overlifers had no reason to bow and pray to a lowly devil! His father —and by extension, probably his mother, too— would kill him if he ever found out. Some Overlifer he would make.
Still, maybe William wasn’t alone here. Maybe Ferocity had burned her son’s tongue, too. Maybe she made sure to remind him everyday that he was too weak, too stupid to rule the world like she did. Maybe she slapped him and kicked him scornfully to the side when he fell. Maybe she didn’t come for him when he cried. Maybe William the devil was scared too, and exhausted, so he did something about it.
No feeling bad for devils! My enemies. He sighed and adjusted the pillows under his head. You die first, William. Would never kill my mother.
🝰🝰🝰
“Maybe he just needs to go to school. Maybe that’s why he’s not talking.”
“Mary, that’s enough. We’ve been over this.”
“He needs to hear children his age speak! He doesn’t know half of what you’re saying.”
“Mary.”
William heard his father stand, but this time he didn’t intervene. He knew better than that now. He shut off the TV and ran downstairs instead, so he wouldn’t have to hear his mother crying out. Hissing back defiantly and only making things worse.
He shut the door behind him. At least when his parents were arguing, they’d leave him alone for a while. He never used to wish his mother would leave him alone as well, but now she only seemed to fuss over his safety, as if he wasn’t the son of the most powerful man in the world. Her nervous manner, the way her hands shook when she held him and told him to be quiet, keep your voice down, don’t you hear him down the hall; it only made him nervous, too. And he didn’t like being nervous.
He quickly flicked on the light switch with his tail. He always came down here now whenever they fought, because he could still hear them from his room. He couldn’t hear them here.
Besides, no one used this room. It was to summon minor devils, like dwaallicht spirits, but his father had all the power he needed from them as of now. So no one could come in here and find him reading one of the many books his father had left strewn about.
He had recently started reading one about all the legends passed down through generations about the dwaallicht spirits. William knew they were inferior to him, but he still felt a little bad whenever his father would catch one that had been bothering him all week and destroy it. It looked painful, the way they wiggled around and squealed like pigs. De Witt said it did hurt.
Poor little things, he thought as he stared at the cover. But he couldn’t waste time here feeling sorry for the creatures, so he opened the book and read about them instead.
He was about two more chapters through when he heard footsteps outside the door, and he hurriedly slammed his book shut and kicked it under the table, rolling under it as well. He reached his long tail out and turned off the light, then curled it around him. The motion stressed the sharp bend at the base of his tail, and he clenched his teeth, trying not to let a whimper out.
Someone coming in? He looked up, but the door didn’t open. The darkness in front of him looked infinite.
Hurry and get out. He bit his tongue as the footsteps moved past. Please please please.
To his relief, no one did come in. He uncoiled his tail and crawled out of the table, and when he turned around to pick up his book, he saw something glowing in front of him, where he’d been sitting. Some kind of overly detailed circle.
What? He crawled forward, tapping the circle curiously, and before he could blink something knocked him back with the same force his father used when he slapped him.
He landed hard on the floor behind him, and he lay there, a little stunned for a second. Was that his father? But no...there was no way he was in here, the door hadn’t opened—
He sat up quickly, trying to figure out how to word an apology. Sorry, sorry, just got scared. No, that wouldn’t do. Even so, he tried to say something, but all that would come out were hurried cries.
“Who dared summon me?” a small voice called out. “And how?”
“Hah?” William blinked, falling silent at once. That certainly wasn’t his father.
“A human child!” He heard the flick of the switch, and he looked up at the person who had done so. Except that this was no person.
She would have been a young girl, maybe about his age, but she had huge talons and three eyes and wide rings circling her head, like thousands of infinitely thin halos. Her fluffy, fox-like tail was almost as long as his own, but in place of the usual tip, there were deadly, slavering jaws there, snapping at the air. The mouth she did have on her face appeared to be stitched shut.
William immediately ducked when her eyes scanned the room and caught sight of him. “Ah, there you are,” her tail said, and that was when he opened his mouth to scream.
“Shhh!” she hissed, leaping forward and wrapping her tail around his mouth. It leaned forward as if to sniff him, and he stared at the jaws in horror, wiggling in her grip. Was she about to kill him? What even was she? Was she a dwaallicht spirit?
“How did you do that?” the tail went on. “You just dredged me up from the realm of the devils!”
Did I? He tilted his head to the side.
“You look too small to be an Ally or anything like that,” she murmured. “Alright, don’t make a sound.” She unwrapped her tail from around him, and he shuddered, shaking her fur off of him. “So weird! Do you know what you’ve just done?”
He shrugged.
“I’m a devil,” she said, her tongue sticking out of her tail maw. “Well, okay, maybe not really a super powerful one yet, but I will be. I’m from the Southern Kingdom, nice to meet you.” She held out one of her talons, but William backed away. It looked much too rough to touch.
A devil! He had no idea how that had happened, but he realized she wasn’t acting as reverent as she should have been. The devils had to bow before the Overlifers, had to respect them. A simple handshake was no greeting!
Maybe doesn’t know me. He lifted his head, then ran to get his book again, flipping it open to one of the illustrated pages. This one had an ancient Overlifer holding up his sword triumphantly over the body of one of the former devil rulers, the spirits at his side. He pointed at it, then back at himself.
“What? You are?” She narrowed her eyes. “But you don’t have any markings. Wait, hold on a second.” She looked around. “Is this where the Devils of Orange-Nassau live? Are you one of them?”
William nodded once.
“Oh, my Ferocity,” she breathed. “I’ve found the base of our worst enemies. Oh, everyone back home is gonna be so pleased with me. I mean, they would be, but right now we’re at peace, so...” She huffed. “Bow down to me, boy! You’ve just summoned a future general of King Louis’ armies! What insolence!”
William shook his head and glowered at her. His father had told him thousands of times that he had to bow to no one. No one except the real Overlifer here.
But his father wasn’t here, so he merely lifted his head and raised his tail to look as regal as possible.
“Ohhh, that’s right, they weren’t kidding, huh,” the devil girl said. “You guys think you’re all that. Funny ‘cause you looked so scared of me first.” She snapped her tail maws at him, and he yelped and fell back. “See? You Overlifers have nothing on us!”
William stood again, dusting himself off with as much dignity as he could muster. Why wasn’t she scared of him? Was it because he still didn’t have his six lives?
“What? Can’t you talk?” The tail curled its lip back as if in a snarl, and he hesitated.
What was he going to say? That he could? He merely shook his head again, his face flushing. Now it was a devil who knew just how useless he’d be as an Overlifer if he couldn’t even figure out how to hold a conversation.
“Oh, my Ferocity, what happened?” she gasped, her hands flying to her stitched mouth. “I mean, sorry, maybe I’m not supposed to ask that. No, actually, you know what, I’m gonna ask. As a devil, all humans are required to answer my questions!” She puffed out her chest, and he laughed a little at seeing the noble expression on her face.
“Well?” She prodded him with a talon, and he jolted back with a displeased expression. No touching!
She kept staring at him, and he sighed and looked away. He didn’t know how to say he’d never spoken, even in his head. It was just one word. Never.
“Alright, fine, sorry, maybe it’s a touchy subject,” she said. She pointed at her stitched mouth. “I’ll have these off soon! And then I’ll be able to speak to you through my tail and my face. Isn’t that cool? I guess we’re kind of the same, then, right?”
Not the same. William shook his head rapidly. He was better than her and all of her kind!
“Maybe you’ll have your fake metaphorical stitches pulled out soon, too,” she said, hopping around him. “Or maybe you won’t, I don’t know. Guess it depends on why. I think they’ll be out, though.”
You think so? His eyes widened. He’d heard that some devils could see the future.
“Get your hopes up!” She paused beside him and nudged him with her shoulder, and he stumbled to the side. “‘Cause you know, one day I’ll be all grown up, and I’m gonna be the King’s best general, and I’ll lead his armies against you Devils of Orange-Nassau.” She gasped then. “That means we’ll be fighting each other!”
Oh? He didn’t know why he suddenly regretted that so much.
“Yeah, it’s a real shame, ‘cause I kinda like you,” she said. “You’re kinda cute. And so scared, too. I don’t wanna fight you if you’re scared.”
No dying for you, either. How could this creature be his enemy— she was already kind of fun, even though she had scared him at first. And he had no idea that there were such things as devil children, like him.
“I mean, I guess I wouldn’t mind you being my mortal enemy,” she went on. “You’d be pretty easy to beat, I’m thinking. Hey, actually, we should shake on it.” She held out her talon again, and William stepped back. “Promise you won’t go easy on me?”
William stared at her claws. He supposed that talking to her wouldn’t be a bad thing as long as they both agreed that they were going to fight as well as they would have if they didn’t know each other. So he took a breath, bracing himself before reaching out and shaking her talon. It was rough, and he pulled back immediately, but it was enough for her eyes to light up.
“Alright, let’s make it a good fight, then!” she cheered. “But that’s like, fifty years from now or something, unless your daddy decides to attack like right now. So what do you wanna talk about?” She sat back on the table, and he held his book out towards her.
“Oh, wow,” she said, taking it. “You’re reading legends about the dwaallicht spirits? That’s so funny. Everyone hates them, for some reason. I think they’re really sweet, though. I have a few spirit pets, maybe you can come meet them some time?” She shook her head as soon as the words were out. “No, the King wouldn’t like it if I brought an Overlifer to our world, even if he is really tiny and not actually an Overlifer yet. He’s not above killing kids, did you know that?”
William nodded, although he actually really didn’t know that. There was still a part of him that shied away from really studying the current rulers of the Four Kingdoms, or really, any of the rulers at all, since he might have to fight them later on. However, from de Witt, he knew the reputation of the ruler of the Southern Kingdom, and it wasn’t so surprising to hear that Louis would kill a child if he perceived it to be a future threat.
“Guess I’ll be the one to come to you, then,” the devil girl said thoughtfully. “But you gotta summon me, okay? Devils haven’t been able to walk the earth like this—” She waved her hand around the area. “—in literal ages without someone calling for them, and like, no one is that strong. Except you, apparently! Isn’t that cool?” Her eyes shone. “I feel so special! Even Louis hasn’t been up here in over six hundred years!”
William nodded rapidly. Did this mean she wanted to come again? Did she want to stay with him, after all?
Was this his first friend?
She stayed for a little while longer, lecturing him about which of the legends actually happened and which ones were mostly made up. She did stress on that mostly, saying that there was a bit of truth to every legend.
“Why do you think humans wrote about it at all, silly?”
He wished he didn’t have to leave when the time came, but he knew that his parents probably would have stopped fighting by now, and his mother would be looking for him. Just as the strange girl was about to jump back through the circle, he realized that he hadn’t yet learned the name of his new friend.
He ran back to her and grabbed her arm, eliciting a startled yelp from her. “What is it?”
William jumped back on the table, taking another book and flipping through the pages to find the word he was looking for. It didn’t take long, as it was a book about the classifications of devils and their ranks, so the word was practically in every chapter. He held it up, pointing at the word he found.
Name.
“Oh, my name?” She laughed. “Give me yours first!”
He nodded. That wouldn’t be too hard to find either. He rather quickly found a mention of the ruler of the Western Kingdom, and pointed at his name: William.
“William,” she breathed, leaning on the table. “Like your daddy. Oh, that’s gonna make it awfully hard for King Louis to look at you.”
Don’t care. Not afraid. He fixed a stern expression on his face, and she giggled.
“Alright, alright, you’ve earned it,” she said. “Elizabeth Charlotte!” She seemed to tilt her head down as if she were about to bow, but quickly straightened herself back up. “But back home they just call me Liselotte, I guess you can do that too.”
What? William blinked. He knew he was never going to learn how to say that name.
“What, you wanted it.” She laughed and turned away. “Alright, I’ll see you around, William! Call for me soon, or don’t, whatever you want to do.”
He waved as she jumped back into her realm. He had already decided that he would call for her again, if he could figure out how he did it the first time. He had also decided that he wouldn’t tell anyone about her. De Witt would make a face, wave a finger, give him another lecture on his safety here. His mother would casually bring it up to everyone else who didn’t know, thinking it was something to be proud of when in fact, de Witt was right, this was so dangerous.
His father would kill him, of that William had no doubt. Traitors, even if they were heirs, weren’t tolerated here.
But William knew how to be safe.
The first thing Liselotte taught him was that maybe his parents fighting all the time wasn’t so bad. He still hated to see his father with his hands around Mary’s throat, his expression gone from bitter apathy to a terrifying, unguarded anger, but at least now there was something good about it. Besides, his father never went as far as to actually kill her. No, he would never do that; William knew a part of him still cared deeply for his mother.
Maybe. He didn’t say it anymore, but William had seen him kill for her before, bring home these extravagant gifts for her, and de Witt always said that actions spoke louder than words.
So the next time William heard his father say her name in that way, he ran off before he could hear the beginning of it and shut himself up in the room where he’d first found Liselotte. He touched the circle and— nothing. It glowed slightly, but that was it.
He lifted his hand and stared at it. What had he done the first time?
Was scared...thinking things...
Oh, of course! He’d been hiding because he thought someone was coming, and he was begging in his mind for the intruder to hurry and leave. He pressed his hand down again. Hurry up...Liselotte. He didn’t really sound out the last word, her name, but he imagined her voice saying it.
Still, nothing. He growled and slapped the circle. Hurry, I say!
The circle began to glow brightly. William shuffled back, nearly shaking with excitement. He tapped it one more time, and this time Liselotte jumped out, her tail wagging furiously as she leaped on top of him, slamming him back on the ground. It hurt, especially at the base of his own tail, but he was too happy to care, at least for now.
“William!” Her tail jaws hung over his face, grinning, but he was no longer afraid.
At first they only met while William’s parents were fighting, even though Liselotte had no way of knowing that. Then too long went by without a fight, so the next time his father went out, and his mother was done yelling at him for it and instead took to entertaining all of her husband’s guests by herself (which, William had to admit, she wasn’t too great at), he snuck off back into the room and called for Liselotte again.
“My Ferocity, William, it’s been so long!” She was no less delighted that time.
His father was often absent at least three times a week, whenever he didn’t take his son and wife along, so William and Liselotte began to meet much more frequently when he realized he wouldn’t get caught much during those times, either. Sometimes his mother would be searching for him, and Liselotte would scurry under the table, and William would run back out— he thought it was pretty clever of them.
When they weren’t being cautious, they were having fun. Liselotte would look through the book he was reading that week and tell him the same legends the way she had been taught them, many of which her king was a subject of. William thought she spoke of him in a strange way, but he couldn’t figure it out.
Other times, she’d bring him things from her world to show him. Once she brought some of her traditional armor that she used while training and let him butt his head against her chest, trying to pierce the armor with his horns. But it wouldn’t budge, which was impressive and also terrifying.
“Some weapons from our realm can actually go through it,” she explained. “But it’s rare, it’d have to be the weapon of a devil lord. We’re still working on that, actually.”
That was another thing she liked to talk about, her life as a devil one realm below. It was fascinating to hear of someone actually growing up there, a reminder that the devils weren’t ancient history— they were still there. One thing she liked to do was pass all her notes from the day’s lessons onto William, so he could get a taste of what the devils did now. He found them particularly interesting when the notes were about the Southern Kingdom’s military.
“King Louis says we’re going to war with the Eastern Kingdom,” she told him one day. “It’s the first time in centuries! We haven’t gone to war with them since, like, his mama ruled.”
Who do you fight all the time? he wrote down. He was starting to get better at forming sentences in his head and on paper. Which was good, because sometimes even Liselotte found him hard to understand.
“Usually we fight the Western Kingdom,” she said. “King Louis hates them. Like, seriously hates them. Wants to wipe them all out. It’s kinda scary.”
It wasn’t so scary to William, the idea of killing all the people of an entire kingdom. That was kind of what his father wanted to do when they took over. But it was a little concerning that the Western Kingdom was the one that Louis hated, since that seemed to be the only one his father was going to allow to live, though in subservience to the Devils of Orange-Nassau and all the other descendants of that very kingdom.
The war seemed to be taking its toll on Liselotte. Now, whenever she came to answer William’s call, it was all she would talk about. She seemed especially affected when the Southern Kingdom suffered a defeat. William tried to understand, but her long talks about the advancements of the army would turn incoherent to him. It wasn’t her fault, it just happened sometimes— if someone spoke for too long, his mind would jumble it up and he’d feel as if he were listening to someone speak in Infernal.
He knew one of her visits was different when she merely sat down beside William instead of pacing around him while she spoke. William leaned onto her shoulder and twined his tail around hers.
“William,” she said. “I cannot come see you as often. I have to train, I have to get better, I- I have to help King Louis win the war.”
William nodded ruefully. He’d been wondering when the King would order Liselotte to join the fight. She’d told him that she knew how to kill someone, she’d just never done so, which he thought was strange for someone of her age. But he didn’t want her to go; he couldn’t stand being alone again, with the intense adults as his only company.
“But don’t worry, I have a way so that we can still speak!” she said quickly, taking his arm and shaking it. He scowled, but his eyes narrowed with interest.
“So, see, the King has all this magical treasure bound to the forces of the dwaallicht spirits that he killed,” she explained. “He’s obviously killed a lot of them from other kingdoms, so he has a lot, and one of the things he has is this pair of earrings.” She pointed to the ones she was wearing, dark and curling inward like a ram’s horns. She started unclipping one of them. “He basically never uses these, so like, he’ll never notice I took them.”
What do they do? William took the one she held out to him, examining it curiously.
“What these do,” Liselotte began, guessing, as she usually did, what he was thinking, “is link two living beings together, whether that be devil, spirit, or human. Or even your dog, ha!” She stepped forward to tug out the tiny hoop earring that William’s mother made him wear, to match with his father. “Anyway, it’s so that every time we fall asleep, we’ll share the same dream. So now we can just meet every night, forever!”
William blinked, flinching away when Liselotte took the new earring from his hand and held it up to his ear. His hoop earring had bothered him every time he had lifted a hand to pull back his hair, and he hated feeling it dangle against his cheek. Now that it was gone, he didn’t want a replacement.
“Come on, William! Do you wanna see me again or not?” Liselotte nudged him.
William hesitated as he looked at the earring again. Well, it’s not so big...and I have to keep her.
He lifted his head, letting her talons carefully clip it in. The tip of it dug slightly into his skin, but at least now nothing moved when he turned his head.
“Good?” she asked.
He nodded. He only hoped he would get used to it.
Only his mother noticed it the next day. “Did your father give you this?”
William neither nodded nor shook his head. He’d known since he was very young that if he didn’t look at her for long enough and acted disinterested, she’d drop the subject. And, as always, she did.
The good thing about this new system was that now they didn’t have to be quiet when they met, and sleep was always guaranteed at the end of the day. What didn’t occur to him was that in dreams, anything was possible, so Liselotte found something new to do every night.
“Hey, William! Let’s go flying!”
“Let’s go fight angels, William!”
“William! Look at me! I can breathe fire!”
Truth be told, William had never been happier. He found himself smiling more often during the night, even giggling to himself in the day when he thought of something funny that Liselotte had said the night before. He sometimes wished, though, that he never had to wake up, so he could stay forever with Liselotte, and his father couldn’t bother him.
He was doing that a lot more often, now that he was teaching William how to fight rather than just torture defenseless enemies. “That was the easy part,” he said, “now you must learn that I won’t always be there to protect you.”
You never protected me, William thought. But he lifted his head and nodded. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his mother duck out of the room, muttering something to herself.
Doesn’t she want to see me learn this? He watched her go for a moment, and his father stepped forward, taking William’s chin in his hand and turning his head sharply to the side.
“Pay attention, William. The first thing you need to know is that you’ll probably forget everything I’ve taught you when you’re scared.”
William shook his head. He’d never be scared!
“Oh, yes, you will be,” his father went on. “You get over it with time. But until you know better—” He pulled the gun out of his belt and pointed it at William. “—there is no better strategy than your instincts.” His finger hovered over the trigger, and William scurried to the side and under the desk as the bang! rang out behind him. He covered his ears, shaking, hearing nothing but his own shallow breaths, so he didn’t realize his tail was bleeding until he curled it in.
“Very good, William,” his father said, looking under the desk. “You’re fast...but not fast enough. And you can’t always run away in a fight, come out here.” He reached under and took William’s tail, making him cry out as his father’s hand squeezed the wound on it. He saw his own blood cover his father’s hands.
He stifled his breaths under his hand. He was scared.
But fear wasn’t going to be tolerated, either. He learned quickly that if he hesitated at all before taking on his father during training, if he dared cry out for his mother, if he ran away, the punishment would come quickly and harshly. It wasn’t just slapping and shoving anymore. When he fell, his father wouldn’t just kick him and leave him alone after it.
His father, the most serious and dignified person William knew, was someone else when he took off his belt and pinned William back to his desk, or a chair, or the wall. He was furious, he was screaming and hissing at him, and all the while William was crying and gasping with every blow, trying to push him off. His father, always so chillingly calm in his rage, seemed to lose himself here, the same way he did when he attacked Mary.
“What have I told you about showing your fear, William? What have I told you? That’s how you get hurt, that’s how people know it’s okay to fuck with you! But it isn’t! You have to show them!”
On the last sentence he’d usually slam his son’s head down on whatever surface it happened to be lying on, and William could only blink up at him, dazed.
“You are not my son. You are not my son.”
I wish I wasn’t.
“Tell me you are!” His father shook him. “Say something! Defend yourself!”
William would open his mouth, but no words ever came out.
He’d always find his mother after, and sometimes she’d be crying. She held him tight, rubbed his head where it’d hit the wall, and told him she was sorry. Sorry that his existence was so painful. He should have never been born, she’d say. He wasn’t sure if she meant it to hurt him, but it did.
Other times she only pushed him away. Wouldn’t even look at him. That was when William would stumble to his room and fall asleep. He was always so tired afterwards, his head hurt so bad.
If it was already night, Liselotte would be there. He listened to her attentively, always urging her to speak. He didn’t want her to ask how his day was. And she was always happy to oblige. In his dreams, there was no pain to be felt.
When she ran out of things to say, they would lie together under a shining sky. The wind was nice.
“William,” she said on one of those nights. “Do you think we’re gonna kill each other?”
He shook his head. His father could punish him in any way he liked; nothing could ever make William hurt his friend.
“Even if you were afraid enough?”
He turned his head sharply towards her. Did she know—?
“I mean, if you’re the heir of the Devils of Orange-Nassau, I imagine you have a lot of things to do when you grow up,” she said. “Aren’t you afraid of messing up in front of all of them?”
Maybe.
He only shrugged. Everyone else seemed to be afraid of messing up in front of his father, not the other way around. He hoped it’d be the same with him, and no one would question his decision to spare Liselotte.
Throughout all of this, de Witt was keeping up with the lessons. Some of them were about speaking, which mostly involved de Witt repeating certain words until William tried to copy it. He didn’t really want to, though. It only confused him.
He enjoyed the lessons about the world he’d inherit when he grew up, though. That was fun. At nine years old he memorized all two hundred and eighty three Allies that ran the world. De Witt knew this, but acted like he didn’t. For every thing William did correctly, he pointed out five things that he did wrong.
“No, William, don’t you know how to make the r sound?”
“I don’t think threatening murder is the best option here.”
“No, you can’t just walk in like that to an interrogation.”
“The war started two years after, not immediately.”
“Your tail can’t be dragging on the floor, lift it up.”
His father had taught him not to expect praise, but...seriously?
You’re so annoying, William wrote him one day. De Witt leaned in to read the note and burst out laughing. It was so sudden that William jumped.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” de Witt said quickly, patting his shoulder. William tensed. “I just like to see when you have thoughts of your own. Is your father annoying too?”
That’s treason! William narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t going to justify that with an answer.
“Alright, maybe not,” de Witt said. “Maybe someday.”
He’d ask William’s father sometimes if it was okay to take him outside. More often than not his father would say no, they were already going out later that day to torture someone, thank you, but on lazy Sundays he’d get the call during breakfast.
“De Witt wants to take you to see a Hoerenkast.” His father looked highly displeased as he put the phone down. “You can go, William, but remember that you are there to learn. Nothing else. You know what to do if something happens. I’ve taught you how to use a gun, de Witt’s got plenty of those.”
William nodded.
“And while you’re there, take some mental notes on this place,” his father went on, “so you can tell us what the best way to kill the Allies there is.”
William nodded again. He thought he was doing a remarkable job hiding his excitement. He didn’t much like going anywhere with de Witt, fussing over him constantly, but he couldn’t bear to stay in the house these days.
And the Allies! This would be the first time he met one of his enemies.
One reason he hardly ever went deep into the city except to help his father was that William would never stay where his parents wanted him to stay. It was the same here— William didn’t keep an eye on the traffic lights, and to wait for them felt too tedious, so he ran to the side to see what the rest of this street was like, with all its looming skyscrapers. De Witt chased after him every time.
“You have to stay with me, William! You know how many people recognize you as the son of one of the richest men in the world? You know what they would do to get even a fraction of his wealth?”
At one point de Witt refused to chase after him and just held his hand firmly. William hated it.
Another reason William was never brought here was because of the air quality. He didn’t know what all the numbers meant, but he knew all the foggy-looking air around here was trying to kill him at all times. Even though he wore his mask, he’d fall into coughing fits every two minutes or so.
De Witt would squeeze his hand every time, so he had enough pretty soon. He pulled down his mask and sunk his teeth into de Witt’s wrist.
“Ow! William!” De Witt glared down at him, swiping his hand away, and William flinched back. He knew what it meant when his name was said that way.
De Witt’s gaze seemed to soften. “It could be dangerous here, William. I know you don’t like it, but I want you to stay with me. Besides, we’re here.” He pointed at the building in front of them, huge and colorful and twisted. William’s eyes widened.
Unfortunately, that meant more waiting, this time in a line. William hated lines. His father usually said some magic words to the people running these lines and they’d let him go in front. If only he could remember what those words were. They sounded dangerous.
He stepped away from de Witt, and this time, de Witt didn’t follow him. “Just come back when I call you, and don’t go past any curtains,” he said simply.
William went immediately to the walls of art past the line he’d been waiting in. There were centuries of history painted here, starting with the huge, snake-like devil coiled around her children, all the way to an Ally general triumphantly holding up the flag of Altos Diablos, his sword buried deep into the chest of what looked to be...an Overlifer.
He clenched his fists. Propaganda, that was all this really was! What was de Witt doing, taking him here?
The whole mural was really beautiful, though. He almost felt bad about having to destroy it when he grew up.
“William!” he heard de Witt call, but he wasn’t done looking. He didn’t realize how long he was taking until de Witt walked in, taking his hand and muttering something under his breath. William rolled his eyes.
They walked through the red curtains they had been waiting in front of, and the room hidden behind them was even more beautiful. There were plants everywhere, hanging from the walls, covering huge tapestries and bordering the streams running all along the floor. It all looked quite tropical to William, and certainly felt that way too; by the stars, it was hot in here.
It was here that he met his first Ally. De Witt knelt before her, but William kept himself upright. What sort of treason was this? De Witt didn’t seriously believe in the authority of the Allies, did he? His father would have him beheaded for this if he found out!
“My lady, this is William,” de Witt said once he stood up again. “It’s his first time meeting an Ally. William, this is Ally Andrena.”
She was a woman, of course, covered in black and gold like a bee and hardly wearing anything at all, which William couldn’t fault her for in this heat. But he wasn’t about to show any reverence to this Ally when he was destined to be more powerful than her.
“Is this the Overlifer’s child?” she asked, her insect-like gaze drifting over him in a way that made his skin crawl.
William stiffened. No one was supposed to know that!
“My lady,” de Witt said, clearing his throat. “Those are only rumors. The devils know this boy will outgrow the legacy of his predecessors, as his father did.”
“Ah.” Andrena smiled. “We cannot know that. Come here, darling.” She held her hand out to him, but William only shuffled behind de Witt, shoving him forward.
“Go on, William, it’s a great honor,” de Witt said, stepping to the side. William glared up at him, but obeyed, walking towards Andrena and stopping before the stream in front of her magnificent throne.
She stood, then knelt to shake his hand. “Hello, William. I hope that your life turns out as you want it to. If you keep me and all the Allies in your head, I can help guide you so it can be so.” She leaned forward to whisper into his ear. “But know this, little monster. If you think anyone can match our power, if you think you can challenge it— you better change your mind right now.”
William stepped back, glaring at her. Andrena blinked slowly and sat back down. “I don’t usually do this, but please, you are dismissed,” she said, waving her hand at de Witt and William.
“Of course,” de Witt said. He glanced down at William, then back up at her. “There is no human without vice.”
“And without vice there are no devils,” she replied.
All that walking around in this miserable city that made his lungs feel as if they were freezing up, just for that! All that waiting! William had absolutely no doubt in his head now, the Overlifers were superior and always would be.
And that stupid Ally knows it. That’s why she’s so scared.
Perhaps de Witt sensed his disappointment and anger, because even though they were here strictly to learn, he took William to eat at this weirdly fox-themed restaurant. Despite all the white fox decorations there, the actual animals walking around were bushy white cats.
William had one purring on his lap as he ate his side of peas more than he bothered to look at the main course of fish. He sensed de Witt staring at him.
“You’re going to eat all that, right?” he asked.
William nodded firmly. He wasn’t really, but whatever made de Witt sleep better at night. He giggled when he felt another cat come up under his legs, and he reached down to stroke its head.
“You still want to kill all the Allies?” de Witt prodded.
What do you think? William glowered at him.
“It wasn’t my intention to radicalize you further,” he said apologetically. “Maybe I should have chosen a better Ally. She’s known for her shrewdness.”
His father asked him what he learned later that night. William first wrote down a description of the art he had seen and was startled to see just how much it enraged his father.
“You see, William,” he growled. “You see how much they hate us. You see how superior they think they are! What did the Ally say to you?”
William wrote down all the details.
His father’s tail lashed as he read through William’s scrawl. “What an insolent beast!” he spat. “How dare she speak to my son like that? The son of an Overlifer, her only chance to get in our good graces, and she throws it to the mud!”
This was the good kind of anger, William realized. In their hatred and spite for all the Allies and their followers, William and his father were united.
He could hardly wait to fall asleep that night. When he opened his eyes and saw the devil waiting for him, he leaped at her, crying out, “Liselotte!”
“Woah, woah, woah!” She stumbled back in shock as he fell into her arms. “William!”
“Liselotte!”
“William!”
He’d said her name. That was his first word. He didn’t know why she looked so shocked to hear it, though, she probably heard it everyday.
He clung to that name, though, even just in his head. He only told de Witt that he knew it, which made him shake his head and laugh.
“That’s not a real word, William.”
Bullshit! William resolved to learn that word next and tell it to de Witt’s face.
He’d run through the name in his head during his training, in which his father was trying to teach him not to scream no matter the pain. Teaching him not to break should he ever be tortured.
That was kind of a horrible reality, de Witt told him. That a child had to worry about being tortured either now or as an adult.
William didn’t agree with him most of the time. He only agreed with him when his father beat his face bloody with the belt, or twisted his tail around the base, where the painful bend was. William would scream and his father would only make it worse.
“Shut up. I’ll only stop if you shut up.”
It took a while, but eventually William was proud to say that he could take it all without even so much as a whimper. He was trembling violently by the end of it, swallowing his own blood, in the worst pain he’d ever been in, but he would die before his captors heard him scream.
He’d stare straight ahead as his father jerked his long tail around and kicked him in the side over and over again— the only thing forced out of him were tears, so many of them. He didn’t know he could cry so much.
Once his father dragged his tired, smarting body into the bathroom, lifting him up so he could look at himself in the mirror. William lifted his head with as much dignity as possible, though he hated how his father was pulling his hair up, how the blood was running down his bruised face, how he was still crying and gritting his teeth to stifle his gasps.
“Don’t ever stop fighting, William,” his father said. He sounded bored. “Don’t ever let them see you beg for your life. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.” That was the second thing William had learned how to say.
It went unsaid between them, but he knew that the only person he could never fight against, the only person his mother ever warned him of, was his father.
That was when de Witt told him that this was wrong, that no father should treat his child this way. William didn’t understand that at all, though he supposed de Witt wouldn’t know. His children weren’t destined to rule the world.
He concluded that de Witt was just jealous. And treasonous. William was already figuring out what to say to his father when he learned to pronounce the words.
De Witt is a traitor, he wants to destroy us from within. His mother had taught him to be wary of his father’s vassals and their influence; he was pleased that he recognized treason when he saw it. The only things that saved de Witt’s skin were the Sunday trips and the private lessons.
He was starting to feel as tired as his mother looked. He told himself he wasn’t afraid of anything, but he knew, when he really reflected, that he was scared. All the time. The dread when his father called him into his office was dizzying, almost as if he were about to faint. He knew it was good for him, he knew it was important, but everything hurt.
“He’s nine years old, William, have you seen him?” he overheard his mother saying to his father. “Nine years old and he is so- so tired of everything you put him through. I’m tired too, William, you know that? I’m sick of you and your bullshit destiny.”
“This war has been going on for centuries,” William’s father said patiently. “We are going to finish it. Isn’t that what you want?”
“Not with genocide!”
“I prefer the term strategic extermination.”
“You’re insane, you’re fucking insane,” she said. “The wolves are circling, William, everyone knows what you are. You’re not going to last long like this. You kill whoever you want, you get arrested and institutionalized, but you keep my son away from all this.”
“He’s my only heir.”
“I don’t want him to be! He’s only a boy, you were only—”
There was a low warning growl, a lash of a tail. “You know what I’m tired of, Mary?’
“Get- get away from me.”
“Shut up. Come here.”
“Get away—!” The way she said it made the fur on William’s tail stand on edge.
He didn’t hear the rest of it. He didn’t run to the circles-and-books room this time, only shut himself in his room and went to sleep. There was no Liselotte for a while, until he felt something nudge him in the shoulder and he opened his eyes. There she was, standing over him.
“King Louis,” she said, which was sort of a funny exclamation she started using. It was like if William used his father’s name as a swear. “What happened to you? You look like death.”
William sat up and looked down at himself. None of his bruises showed. Did he seriously look so exhausted?
He blinked rapidly, sniffling, and Liselotte sat back. “William...”
“Liselotte.” He burst into tears, his tail curling protectively around himself. “Liselotte—!”
“I’m here, William, I’m here,” she said, her own tail coiling around him, although William heard her voice break too. “What happened? Do you wanna write it down?”
He shook his head. He just wanted her. He had already vowed from the moment he had met her that he would not let her come anywhere near his life outside of her visit; he would never let his father’s cruelty taint the way he saw his dear little devil friend.
And he made sure never to ask about her family life, either— he was terrified of what he would find there. For all her talk about the war and her training she never seemed too eager to bring up the adults in her life other than the king.
This was why he liked the night. For all the darkness outside there was none here, when de Witt showed him the books that his father kept hidden away from him and when Liselotte showed him the play his father had denied him.
It was after another one of de Witt’s lessons, that William was reading a book under his bed and he heard the door begin to click open. He slammed the book shut and scurried out just as his father opened the door, his eyes darting around the room.
“William.”
William kept his gaze on the ground, his tail twitching. Has his father seen?
“Look up here.” He heard the door close, and he looked up at his father, forcing himself to meet the dark, apathetic gaze. He swore there had never been any joy in those eyes.
That was when his father stepped forward and held him. Really knelt down and held him.
William was so startled that his first instinct was to pull away, but his father held him tighter like he never had before. Maybe the last time he had done so was when William was two. But there was nothing he remembered from those days.
Though he’d always been instructed to address his father with sir, this time he shakily tried another word he knew he could say.
“Papa...” At that moment he forgot all the pain he and his mother had been forced through because of this man.
“William.” That was a warning. He felt his father’s fists clench up in his hair.
“S-Sir,” he hurried to correct himself. “Sir.” He shut his eyes before his father had to see the tears in them. He was trembling now, stepping away.
What had come over him? He knew better than to believe his father had a sliver of love in his heart for anyone in this world. Now he would pay; he already heard the belt being unbuckled.
But the seconds ticked by and he did not even hear a crack in the air. Was his father waiting for him to open his eyes? He did so, nervously, and what he saw sent a wave of strange nausea all throughout his body.
“What- what’s this?” he asked. In reality he wanted to ask why in the world his father had his pants slightly pulled down, showing off the parts that his mother had told him to protect. To not let anyone touch. He knew what that was, actually, he knew what his father was showing him— the question was why.
“I’m going to teach you something new, William. Give me your hand.”
William hesitated before holding out his hand, and his father took it.
“You are going to move it like this, right over here. Can you do that?”
It was a strange motion, but William learned quickly. When he got the hang of it his father sat back on the bed. “Come here and do it,” he said. “You’ll know when you’re done.”
Apparently William was done in maybe a few minutes, when things got messy.
Seeing it all over his hands oddly made him feel even sicker, but his father wiped it off. “That’s all,” he said. “I’ll be back here tomorrow night and we can do it all again. This is a skill, William, and you must train it.” He leaned forward and placed his lips on William’s.
His mother had kissed him before, but never like this. He only ever saw this type of kissing when he saw his parents fighting, and his father would end it quickly with a kiss just like this, while she thrashed around like a scared calf. It had always made him feel all sick and shaky inside.
But he knew better than pulling away. He waited until his father stood, and then looked up at him, his tail twitching at the tip.
“Good night, William.”
He was with Liselotte a little later than usual, and she told him so. Her tail twitched anxiously, leaning forward to ask him questions.
“What happened, William? Are you alright?”
He nodded, a little uncertainly. He truly didn’t know what to think of what his father had shown him. All he knew was that it made him feel as if he wanted to throw up.
“Good.” Her gaze drifted to the side, as if she were distracted.
You okay? William reached a hand out and placed it on hers.
“I’m fine, William.” She shook him off. “What do you wanna do tonight?”
He would never admit it out loud, but he hoped that that was the first and last time his father would come into his room for that. He felt strange in the morning, and he wondered if he should tell his mother.
What would he say, though? For some reason even the description of the act itself was embarrassing. He didn’t want to have to write that all down.
Why does she need to know? I’m not getting hurt.
It happened again that night. This time he was told to be more strategic with his movements, which made no sense to William. But he tried his best to obey, as he saw that his father kept a hand on the belt he’d removed.
And then it was every night.
The only thing that really annoyed him was that he had to wash his hands, and sometimes his face, immediately after. Even so, he swore the next day that he could feel his hands more slicker than usual, as if they could never be clean now. It also bothered him that he was later to see Liselotte now, but his father couldn’t know about that.
He couldn’t say that he hated it. He sure didn’t like it, but at night, when he was still shaking from the beatings his father had given him that day, when his nose dripped blood onto the books de Witt gave him, he was just relieved that there was some semblance of a break. Just like Liselotte. Except this Liselotte was his father, and the games were no fun, especially when he had to take off his clothes now.
“Where are all these bruises from?” his father asked once. He was smoothing a hand over William’s chest, causing him to shudder. “You need to be more careful.”
William tilted his head to the side. Had he forgotten? “You, sir.”
“Me?” His father looked genuinely surprised. “By the stars, William, I know it’s hard being so clumsy, but that doesn’t give you the right to blame me for it.”
“I’m- I’m sorry.”
“You can make yourself useful now.” His father shoved him to his knees, his hands gripping William’s horns. “We’re trying something else tonight.”
This time it did hurt. This time it brought tears to his eyes, this time it made him sick and his stomach couldn’t hold it anymore when they were finished. It tasted so much worse than it felt! He couldn’t even remember what else had happened that night when he woke up in the morning. All he knew was that he had been sobbing and retching, all out of breath, and his father had scooped him up in his arms and told him to shut the fuck up, look at the mess he’d made.
All he did when he met up with Liselotte was lie on the grass, staring listlessly up at the sky. She tried to ask him questions, but he didn’t know how to even answer.
So he came to the conclusion that maybe this wasn’t any better after all. The sickness he felt at night started to pass over into the morning, and he didn’t want to get up, but his father pulled him out of bed anyway. William had always recoiled at his touch; it felt different now. Now he wanted to scream, to bite into the hand that tugged him around as if he were a doll.
I’m not a doll. I’m not. I’m William Henry Nassau. I’m gonna rule the world.
And with what dignity? What honor? Of course, all the vassals of his father knelt before him when they were commanded to, they showed how much they worshipped their beloved little prince, but not one knew of his agonies every day and every night! Yes, it was the night now as well! He who had so protected the dark now saw every defense crumble before his eyes!
He could never escape his father’s hands. They were forever on him.
It is unacceptable that a prince has to be so afraid all the time. He wrote that to de Witt once.
“You’re right, it is unacceptable,” de Witt said. “For any child, really, not even just you.” He hesitated and then flung an arm over William. “It’s good that you’re admitting it. It’s okay to be scared. I am, too, for you.”
William didn’t pull away this time. He just wondered why he was telling de Witt this.
Don’t ever tell your mother. His father had started saying that to him. Don’t tell anyone. He said it was their secret, didn’t he want something to share with his old man after all this time?
“You and I, we’re the loneliest men on this planet. Nobody knows what it’s like to have the whole destiny of the world in our hands. But we do. Just me and you. I, the king, and you, my...heir. So you will serve me in all ways.”
One day this monster who had so ruined William’s life as well as that of his mother would lose his sixth life, and William would be the one in control then. He would command the universe, and there would be no one left who could hurt him. He’d kill them all first.
But for now, he could only cry right beneath his father, whether it was the kisses on his body that drove him to tears or the kicks to his side when he lay on the floor.
#finally got one chapter out yippeeeee#im not so sure how much i like this one#but the other chapters get crazier i promise :3#william iii (six lives won't make you happy)#six lives won't make you happy
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Hey i saw your requests are open and i wanted to ask if you can make a law x reader with a devil fruit that makes them have the powers blue diamond had in Steven universe, if you haven’t watch it basically she can causes other people to cry when she cries out of sadness, and could also include how reader was forced to eat the fruit when she was young that was orders form doflamingo after her mom was kill right in front of her brutally and that only making the devil fruit more powerful and maybe this can be around the dressrosa arc with the straw hats (know thats a lot so its ok if you leave some stuff out )
Many thanks 💜💜
Hi hello! This is a challenge but I shall accept. I’ve never watched Stevens Universe, so I did a little research about the character. HOWEVER. This is my attempt, and I don't really like how it turned out, and it's really short. But I hope you enjoy!
☠ WC: 1079
Warnings: Flashbacks, trauma, reader hates Doflamingo, gore (body, torture, medical- the worst of it is in the first paragraph, which you can skip. Otherwise it's just a threat, and a medical learning experience (holding a brain)).
Coming back to Dressrosa was hard. Really hard. Even just walking through the streets where everything was poisoned with rose-colored lenses. Happiness and prosperity? It was a vile plague of fake memories. People would be disgusted like you if they knew the real Doflamingo. The bastard that forced you to eat that damned devil fruit, shoving it into your mouth as you screamed. You closed your eyes, an image of your mothers mutilated body gasping and gagging as she convulsed- jaw forced open by the wire muzzle that choked her with a protruding bar. Her back arched until you were sure it would snap. Again. Her fingers twisted into unnatural shapes, as if she couldn’t decide to cling to life or crawl to hell. Her skin was ashen-
“Hey” a light touch on your fingers yanked you violently back to the present. You flinched at the touch.
“Stay in the present” Law murmured gently. You grunted.
“Hard to do when we’re here because of the past” you muttered. Law had nothing to say to that, only entwining a pinky with yours. You relished the touch.
“Remember, the people are innocent. It’s Doflamingo we’re after” he said after a few minutes. You took a deep breath, easing your nerves. You nodded resolutely. You focused on your companions- the click of Robins shoes, the quiet rattling of Ceasar’s sea prism stone chains, and Usopp’s bag that held his ammunition that clicked with his movements.
You let yourself order a calming cup of tea the group stopped at, focusing on your goal- to get across the bridge without being eaten or impaled by the monstrous fish that swarmed the area. Law put a hand on your thigh, squeezing your knee while you spent time sipping your drinks. You tried not to giggle at his dumb moustache he put on as a disguise.
“So” Robin started conversationally. You looked at her. She took a sip of coffee before continuing, “You mentioned you had a devil fruit power?”
“Ah. Right. I ate the sad-sad fruit. Or really, was forced to eat it by Doflamingo. Basically, I have a range of people that I can make so sad that they cry. It’s useful in battle, bringing enemies down to their knees, so I can either escape or knock them out. If I send out a strong enough wave, it can send people into paralyzing grief. Of course, it doesn't really work on people who have depression. But generally, it's pretty useful. Ah! But don't worry,” you added on, looking at Usopp's rather fearful expression, "I've learned to control who's affected by it. You can kinda think of it like Law's 'room'."
Usopp and Ceasar looked immensely relieved. Robin hummed, cocking her head.
“Any cost to you? Since it’s not a logia type” she asked. You shrugged.
“If I use it too much, it’ll give me a pounding headache.”
It felt good talking about something different. It distracted you from your own mind, and Law seemed to pick up on this. He wrapped an arm around the back of your chair.
"How long have you two known each other?" Usopp asked, eyeing Law's possessive arm. You turned to smile shyly at your boyfriend, but he let you answer, simply sipping his coffee with a grunt.
"A very long time" you answered.
"Cesar" Law muttered dangerously. The man stiffened, slowly looking over at the ravenette, fear evident on his face.
"Remember, I have your heart. If I even think you're going to say a word about us dating, I will kill you. Painfully." Law kept his expression neutral and his voice low. To anyone out of earshot, he could've been talking about the weather. Robin giggled. Cesar was sweating, and would've been pale had his face not already been paper-white. Usopp blanched at the threat, even though it wasn't directed at him.
"If he even starts, I hope you'll remember to remove his brain for me so I can join in the fun" you played off Law's casual threat. Cesar looked like he was about to piss himself. Usopp looked like he wanted to hide, and Robin only smiled. You returned the woman's smile with an innocent one of your own.
"You two are terrifying" Usopp muttered into his drink. Law's hand moved to your shoulder, sliding to the nape of your neck possessively. You knew without looking he was smirking at the long-nosed man playfully.
"You have no idea" you purred, leaning forward. Your mind was much more focused now in the present now with this banter.
"Now, now, we can't have the sniper shaking too much" Robin chided with a sip of her coffee. You hummed.
"You're right. I'm only messing with you, Usopp. I've only held a human brain once" you teased, leaning into Law's easy hold, flicking your gaze over to Cesar's. He gulped, terror in his eyes. Of course, this was true, but it was only when you asked Law about the anatomy of the human brain. He couldn't find a diagram that he felt did the actual thing justice, so he let you study one, courtesy of an unconscious marine. The marine had no idea what had happened when he was unconscious, and probably figured the splitting headache he woke up was due to the solid punch you landed on his temple.
"Fascinating. What was it like?" Robin questioned with a tilt of her head. You opened your mouth to answer, but Usopp and Cesar started screeching for the two of you to stop at the same time.
"DON'T ANSWER HER!" "AAAHHHH LALALALALA I CAN'T HEAR YOU"
You laughed heartily at their reactions. Law even smiled, despite their loud protests drawing a few stares. Luckily, their disturbance was dismissed without suspicion with your laughter and Robin's chuckle. Once the laughter died down, Law brought the attention back to the issue at hand.
"We need a plan to get through the bridge"
You tensed, but Law tightened his hand on your shoulder, grounding you. You breathed in and out. In. Out. Again. The basic plan was put in place, and you listened as you gazed towards the sectioned off entrance.
You twined your fingers with Law's under the table, squeezing his hand two times in quick succession. I love you.
His hand returned the squeezes, two in quick succession. I love you too. You smiled to yourself, and threw back the rest of your now cold tea.
It was time to begin.
#trafalgar d law x reader#law x reader#trafalgardwaterlaw#trafalgar one piece#one piece fanfiction#one piece feels#not fluff#one piece#one piece x reader#one piece x y/n#one piece x you#angst and fluff#light angst#gore#some gore#idk man#i don't like it
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It's just an illusion (Loki, Thor and Odin drabble)
18+ blog: It is YOUR responsibility, as a reader, to think about the content that you consume at your own discretion.
~
A/N: Thank you to anonymous for sending in the prompt back in October 2023, apologies for the lateness, I am trying to get on track. Although I will admit this one was a challenge as there wasn't a lot given in the prompt for me to go off with, I had to do a few rewrites before landing on this version, but I hope it's good enough 😊 x
(Prompt requests are still closed just finishing the last from October 2023)
Prompt requested by Anonymous on Tumblr: Prompt - Loki has done a lot of bad things, but Thor and Odin weren't exactly the perfect brother and father. Thanx!
Summary: Loki, Thor and Odin are in therapy after the events of New York as they had promised Frigga to sort through their issues. Thor is his usual boastful self, while Loki and Odin loathe every second. However things get out of hand when Thor mentions Loki's jealousy and his chaotic behaviour.
Warnings: Family disputes, mentions of physical and mental torture, favouritism and illusions to hide the pain behind
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"I do all these things to impress my father...you know make him proud of me. I also can't deny the fact I enjoy all the attention too. The clap on the back from friends and fans. Or the innocent smile from the shy women is always a treat. That look, you know that look, the one that means they want to know what it's like to be with a real hero." Thor's boastful behaviour had completely gone off course, causing the female Therapist to clear her throat and shuffle in her seat. Loki rolls his eyes which triggers Odin to grumble at him for directing it at his brother.
"Let's bring it back to the relationships you have with odin and Loki." The Therapist says after recovering and trying her best to remain professional.
"Right...I feel that after my time on Earth and becoming an Avenger there's some mutual respect between myself and my Father. As for things with Loki and I...I feel as though he is jealous of my success." Loki scoffs as soon as the words leave Thor's mouth. "See, he's just proving my point!"
As Thor continues to complain about Loki's behaviour Loki gets up and starts to head out however he doesn't get very far. "Lo-"
"SIT BACK DOWN!" Odin barks over The Therapist, "you made a promise to your Mother that you would stay until the end." The mention of Frigga is what made Loki stop in his tracks, and he sighs heavily, then he returns to his seat as he doesn't want to let her down again.
After everyone settled down again The Therapist turned her attention to Loki. "Loki...a little while back Thor had been exiled and Odin was in Odinsleep, Asgard was then under your rule, given you were the next in line. Frigga had entrusted Gungnir to you and she believed in you. That was quite a lot of responsibility to suddenly have." She says gently and watches Loki's expression carefully, yet she notices that he is trying to seem unaffected by her words, however the way he nervously plays with his hands is more telling than his mask of indifference. "You went down to Earth during that time to inform Thor that he is to remain in exile and you mentioned that the burden is now yours to bear in his stead. However things started to escalate after that time. Thor and the Warriors Three had to put an end to it before things got out of hand, Odin had awoken by that point, but you had given up, falling off the Rainbow bridge in the end." She continues speaking gently, but he clearly knew how to keep his emotions masked well.
"We never imagined after grieving after the fall that he would come back and reap havoc over New York." Thor pipes up, his words are spoken with weight to them, yet it angers Loki due to his choice of words.
"I HAD NO CHOICE!" Loki yells, as he stands up abruptly and points his finger at Thor. The brothers continued to argue for several minutes, The Therapist trying her best to calm things down, but Odin was losing his patients and began to head out. "Where do you think you're going?! You promised Mother you'd also stay until the end." Loki throws Odin's words back at him and he knows he has him for that.
"Can we all just take a deep breath and sit down?" The Therapist says, as she stood up herself now and put her hands out to gesture for there to be calmness now. Odin grumbled to himself but remained standing near the door, Thor settled down as if he had been scolded like a child, whereas Loki took a little longer before sitting back down this time. "I understand that therapy isn't easy, but things won't change if you don't try...now Loki in your own words calmly explain as to why you didn't have a choice about the events in New York." She continues to say and hopes they will get somewhere as long as Loki cooperates.
Loki's jaw tightens as he contemplates what he should say. He's never been the one to talk civilly about anything to do with emotions, the lack of anyone being in his corner, but also his struggles of dealing with the consequences of his actions. The room is silent for the most part, Odin clearly impatient in the back of the room, but all eyes are on Loki. The Therapist can see he is struggling internally about how to address this topic and therefore she gently reaches out her hand and places it on his arm for encouragement.
"I don't enjoy hurting people...I-I don't enjoy it. I do it because I have to...because I've had to. It's a part of the illusion...it's the cruel elaborate trick conjured by the weak to inspire fear...when you have nothing else left to lose and at your most vulnerable state anyone can bend your mind to do their bidding. Your own thoughts are murky and crossed with someone else's ideology while you're being both physically and mentally tortured...you lose yourself. You don't want to do it, but you have no choice." The pain in Loki's voice was evident to what he's been through and having to do it alone. The hefty weight he has been burdened with and the consequences from those actions have all come to a broken shell of man he once was.
A shimmer of green covered around Loki for a few seconds, the walls of an illusion he had created came down, revealing a much more dishevelled Loki. His hair unkempt, his clothes baggy and torn, his face much paler than usual, his eyes bloodshot and dark circles beneath them. Thor's eyes widened in shock and his jaw lowered, he had no idea, seeing his younger brother in this state after what he said hurt him deeply. Odin showed very little in light of everything. Not that Loki expected anything from revealing the truth.
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Tags:
@jennyggggrrr @foxherder
Loki Masterlist
Source: @viviennes-tears
#its just an illusion#loki laufeyson#thor odinson#odin#asgard#threapy#family disputes#favouritism#prompt request#drabble#fanfiction#hurt loki#viviennes-tears
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15 to 17
end-of-year book ask game
15. Did you read any books that were nominated for or won awards this year (Booker, Women’s Prize, National Book Award, Pulitzer, Hugo, etc.)? What did you think of them?
I honestly don't know how many books I read this year won awards. I know The Shadow of the Torturer won a bunch of sci-fi awards, and I did really love it—though I enjoyed it more as a part of the larger Book of the New Sun series than I did as a standalone work.
16. What is the most over-hyped book you read this year?
I don't have the hater's temperament. Most things that are popular I'll enjoy, most things that aren't popular I'll enjoy. The closest I had to something being "overhyped" for me was not getting a lot out of The Duino Elegies, if you can count "my brother really likes them and was telling me about them positively" as something being over-hyped. I can't even hold it against Rilke, I don't think I was really coming to those poems on his terms.
17. Did any books surprise you with how good they were?
I've been perpetually trying to get through the Marquis de Sade's 120 Days of Sodom and Other Writings for a while now. Sade doesn't have the most gripping prose and I'm unable to get much thematic depth outside the unending, overwhelming excess of lurid grotesquery he spends countless pages dryly relating. Look, I'm from Vegas, I'm all for unending overwhelming excesses of lurid grotesquery, but it hasn't really built up to anything meaningful for me yet. Which is dissapointing, considering how much I liked Salò.
That said, I also read his novella Incest, and was surprised by how much I ended up enjoying the little thing. The characters were arch and simple, but that just made me more surprised by the quirks of their characterization. Take this passage about the mother, who had just discovered her daughter had been groomed into a sexual relationship with her husband:
The unhappy Mme de Franval could no longer take refuge in her illusions; not a single one remained for her to indulge in; it was all too clear that the heart of her husband — the most precious thing in her whole life — had been stolen from her.... And by whom? By the girl who owed her the most respect.... and who had just spoken to her with such insolence!
This character is supposed to be a paragon of virtue, and she reacts to this all by claiming her daughter stole her husband? That her daughter wronged her? Not that her husband wronged their daughter horribly, not that she wronged her daughter by letting her be isolated from all but him for years.... And she says her daughter owes her respect? She had no hand in raising her, is she supposed to be owed respect for bringing her into this world? Incredible. I love reading about how the structure of role expectations and power dynamics in families is irreparably fucked.
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My life sucks. I feel like a living trophy. Is this what Riddle felt like while living under his mother?
For context, my parents had been pressuring me into taking BS in Architecture in college since hell knows when, which is fine by me. I like drawing houses and buildings.
But these past years, it has been... suffocating. I tried considering other courses as a second choice because me passing the college entrance exams is not set in stone. I've considered choosing BS in Interior Design in particular (I love designing house and building interiors, you should see my phone's game manager)
Yet whenever I tried to bring it up, they would reason me out of it. I tried to counter it off with the pros of me choosing the course as a second choice but they just won't budge.
I've been following this set-up for years, so much so that I've already forgotten my real dream job. I have to be the "perfect" me, where if I didn't get the highest grades in the class, I'd be subjected to torturous lectures of not doing enough.
I feel lost. I feel empty. I feel numb. I don't know what to do anymore.
Sorry for ranting on your inbox. I feel like if I keep this inside for much longer, I wouldn't be able to handle this anymore. I really don't know that much people to talk to irl or online. And I feel safe talking to you. So yeah...
I still have a year to finally decide which path I would take in college, yet it scares me. The future's too terrifying to think about.
Can someone please enlighten this lost sheep?
honestly i don't know what to say? mostly because this came out of nowhere ^^;
im sorry you forgot what you originally wanted to do, but if theres something in your life that you love a lot (like interior designing!!) then you should pursue that. obviously i cant just brush off parental influence because theyre important, but you have to remember that you are your own person. they're not going to be in control of your life forever or even be an influence on yoru life forever. you ahve to live for yourself.
im glad you feel safe with me ^^ its important to remember that college graduation is not teh end of yoru education!! you can still go back to the school (even though its EXPENSIVE AS HELL SO YK...I GET THE PRESSURE) but even if youd ont go back to school you can always find something you really love without the schooling!!
the future is terrifying but it comes slowly. you have time. seconds tick by, sure. but those seconds are only seconds. actions take hours and days and weeks to complete. you can be slow. if you let yourself get caught up in everything you'll overwhelm yourself. you have yoru whole life ahead of you. take it slow. even when you're old, if you're still alive you can always find new passions and enjoy new experiences. your life isnt over until its over yk?
you have time ^^ try your best to take it easy, okay?
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