Nolan, who locked onto a blind person the moment hecame into the world.
Poor you—you had no idea. But Nolan had seen you as the perfect candidate for what he was planning: observing Earth and setting his mission into motion.
And that decision only solidified when you didn't even notice him following you and entering your apartment. "You're my spouse now." He watched with a blank expression as you practically had a heart attack at the voice suddenly coming from over your shoulder.
Yes, you were the perfect spouse. At that moment, he was certain he could easily impose his dominance over you. The only question was...which dominance?
As Nolan lived with you, he grew even more confident and comfortable—you were the perfect partner for hiding his secrets and his actions. Still what bothered him was your weakness. You were weak. Your blindness held you back from so many things. Irritating, he thought.
And yet, there he was holding your hand like a gentleman, guiding you step by step down a staircase with no handrail, walking backward in front of you. "What kind of scum doesn't install a single handrail!? Can't they think about blind people...so selfish, I hate people."
"Even me?" The words slipped from your lips with a silky smile. You were never serious with the question—teasing him was simply one of your favorite pastimes. But Nolan answered without a moment's hesitation, as if the mere suggestion had wounded you both. "No." His voice held the tender warmth of an autumn breeze, the kind that melts hearts. "No, I could never hate you."
I swear I'm going to turn this into a series one day. And if you liked it, you're interested plss let me know in the comments or in my inbox whether I should keep it genderneutral or make it a female reader. I plan to go with whatever the majority wants.
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Your fics are just so lovely! And it’s so nice to see non nsfw fics it’s rare to find that. May I make a request? I really loved the fic with the mute reader so can I request a bad era Micheal x blind fem reader? Her friend dragged her to his concert and during his songs he was going to pick out someone to come up on stage and she got picked. She was very nervous and slightly scared to be away from her friend but her friend informed the guard to be carful because she’s blind. And Michael lifted her hands to feel his face.
Hi!! Thank you so much for your kind words, I had so much fun writing this. Hope you enjoy :)
YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL
Bad!EraMichael X Blind!Reader
ཆི❤︎ཆྀ wc: 1.5K
ཆི❤︎ཆྀwarnings: anxiety, nervousness.
The bass thrummed through the floor loud enough you felt the vibrations throughout your legs. It was everywhere. In the metal barricades. In the screaming crowd packed shoulder to shoulder around you.
The air itself was thick with humidity and anticipation,the faint smell of cigarettes and stage smoke surrounding you.
Your fingers curled around your friend’s sleeve, the fabric brushing against your palm. You gripped her with a form of excitement and nervousness
“Are there a lot of people?” you asked, raising your voice in hopes that she’ll hear you more clearly.
“A lot?” she repeated, you felt her leaning closer against your side. “Honey, there are thousands.”
You felt the pit of nervousness in your chest deepening, you tried shaking your head ignoring the anxiety. You had known that, logically. Of course there would be thousands. It was a Michael Jackson concert for God’s sake. That man was beyond famous, you heard about him practically everyday, especially when listening to the radio.
Still, hearing it made reality feel much bigger, much scarier. Being amongst thousands of people wasn’t exactly your ordeal.
Concerts weren’t really exactly your thing. Crowds made you incredibly nervous. Loud noises made it harder to orient yourself, and to understand what’s happening around you. And being somewhere unfamiliar always left you feeling unbalanced.
Your friend had spent weeks convincing you to come. She had insisted it was an experience you shouldn’t miss out on. And she was eager to experience it with you.
You recall her holding your hands, you could tell she had an excited rhythm going through her just by the pitch of her voice. “You’ll love it, I swear to you.”
“I won’t” you shook your head firmly.
“You will.”
“I won’t.”
And somehow you’d ended up here anyway. No matter how many times you told yourself you wouldn’t go, something inside of you tugged at your heart telling you to go. Telling you to live life.
Suddenly gasps were heard everywhere, the audience in a sudden uproar. Your friend also gasped along with the audience. “Oh my God. Oh my God.”
You felt your pulse pick up, thrumming violently against your ribcage. You were almost scared that you were having a heart attack. “What is it?”
“He’s coming out.”
The screaming audience only became louder, it was practically deafening. You covered your ear with the palm of your hand as the girl next to you screamed. And suddenly the music started, the first note hit.
You weren’t able to see the stage lights, the choreography. But hearing the music, feeling the music was more than enough for you.
Michael began singing, everyone was already shouting the words. You recognised the song. You felt yourself smiling despite your earlier anxiety, you could feel all the nervousness slowly melting away.
Your friend gripped your hand tightly, you could feel her jumping excitedly beside you. “I told you that you’d love this!”
You laughed, and she absolutely wasn’t wrong. You felt so glad that you hadn’t missed out on this.
The concert rolled on. Song after song. The heat became thicker but you didn’t seem to mind, somewhere along the way you stopped worrying completely, you could feel yourself relaxing. Enjoying the moment while you could.
You found yourself swaying gently to the music, laughing when you heard your friend screaming knowing she’d regret it while having to talk with a hoarse voice tomorrow.
You heard the song fading, as Michael’s voice spoke through the microphone. He sounded a little breathless yet gentle. “I need somebody to come up here.”
The audience yet again erupted, you laughed covering your ears. “They sound excited.”
“You have no idea,” your friend said. You could practically hear her beaming. You could feel the people beside you waving their arms and jumping desperate to get noticed.
You crossed your arms comfortably. Safe in knowledge that none of this involved you. Not even remotely. Your friend went silent, you could hear her voice speaking but with all the noise around you whatever she was saying was inaudible. You frowned.
“What? What’s wrong?” you tugged on your friend’s sleeve.
“No way.” Your frown only deepened at her response.
You felt a hand touching your shoulder, a male voice spoke over the noise somewhere close in front of you. “Miss?”
Your stomach dropped, confusion overlapping your thoughts. And suddenly the realisation hit you. “Oh no, no.”
Your friend made a sound between half disbelief and half laughing, she sounded eager. “Oh my God. You’re getting picked.”
“Hi, sorry sweetie, don’t be scared.” The deep voice spoke again in front of you. All of the previous nervousness instantly returned to you. You can’t leave your friend, you didn’t want to leave your friend. Everything around you was so unfamiliar.
“Hey! Hey, wait! Please be careful with her. She’s blind, okay? Hold onto her tight!” You heard your friend shout, the fans beside you were freaking out which only made you panic a little more.
“I got her. I’ll keep her safe. Come on, sweetheart, just step up right here.” You felt the guard’s hand encircling around your waist, hoisting you gently over the barricade. Careful not to frighten you. Your heart was racing at an alarming rate. He was leading you onto a stage in front of thousands of people. The sheer absurdity made your head spin. You couldn’t believe this was happening to you.
“Just a few more steps.” You heard the guard say as he guided you up a set of steps.
The audience sounded impossibly huge from up here. You felt entirely exposed. You felt the guard beside you withdraw and suddenly someone else was in front of you.
“Hi.” You instantly recognised his voice, the song was still playing but Michael had pulled the microphone away from him so the words you spoke could only be heard by you.
Before you could even process it, a wave of warmth enveloped you. A pair of arms wrapping securely around your waist, pulling you flush against a firm chest. You could feel the leather jacket, metallic buckles clinking, and zippers.
Michael continued singing some of the words while he hugged you. You let out a soft, shaky gasp, your face burying into the crook of his neck. Smelling strong scents of cologne and hairspray that almost made you feel intoxicated.
“It’s okay,” Michael whispered against your hair, you could feel his voice vibrating through his chest. He swayed you gently as one hand moved to stroke the back of your head, a slow steadying rhythm which instantly gave you comfort despite being on stage in front of thousands. “I’ve got you. Don’t be scared, baby.”
His words sent a violent shiver of butterflies straight down your spine, your hands still trapped between your chests. Pressing your hand against the fabric of his shirt.
Slowly, Michael began pulling back. His hands didn’t leave your body, instead they slid down to your wrists, his long fingers wrapping gently around them. His skin felt hot, his grip was firm and reassuring. “You okay?”
You tried to answer but thanks to the bundle of nerves making you react this way your throat felt completely dry. You settled for a small nod. You couldn’t help but wish more than anything in this moment that you could see the face of the man currently holding you so sweetly.
As if sensing your thoughts, Michael didn’t let go of your wrist, his fingers moved down gently holding around your hand, carefully, Michael guided your hands upwards. He pressed your palms against his face.
Your fingertips instantly moved carefully across his skin. Absorbing every single detail with precision. The first thing you felt was the sharp line of his jaw. Your thumbs brushed near his lips, you could tell that he was smiling. He exhaled a warm, shaky breath against your skin as he tried to continue singing the song.
You let your fingers explore further, your touch wasn’t rushed or harsh, instead it was feather light, shy even. You traced the high curve of his cheekbones, feeling the smooth texture of his skin. You moved upwards, your fingers brushing past his long, curls of hair framing his face.
You traced the bridge of his nose with your finger, small and delicate, your fingers hovered near his eyes. Able to feel his long eyelashes. A soft, breathless laugh escaped your lips, this was real. He was a living, breathing, incredibly gentle soul standing right here, holding you.
“You’re beautiful.” The words slipped past your lips before you could stop them, your cheeks flushing an embarrassing shade of pink.
Michael let out a low chuckle. He leaned forward, pressing a soft, lingering kiss directly into the center of your right palm. The action sent a jolt of pure electricity to your heart.
“Thank you, baby.” He murmured against your hand, which was still on his face. His voice sounded so delicious you could feel your stomach doing backflips.
He didn’t pull away, he leaned into your touch, resting his cheek against the palm of your hand. You don’t think you’ve ever felt happier. Now you were truly glad that you had chosen to come.
Being the handsome guy that he is, he’s always used his good looks to his advantage, but now, ironically, he’s with a partner who can’t see his good looks.
So, this guy loves to bring your hands to his face so you can feel his beautiful features. It doesn’t matter if you stroke his cheeks or playfully pinch the tip of his nose — you can do whatever you want, seriously.
Sometimes, when you’re hugging and just enjoying each other’s company, he loves to tell you how much he wishes you could see how beautiful you are and how you both make such a pretty couple.
Hi! Viv! How are you! I wonder if I can do a fluff request! What if Jamil, Silver, Floyd, and Jade (separately) has a mutual crush on a reader who is blind (but is a badass witch because she senses magic instead of relying on her vision) She is confident when it comes to her magical capabilities but a bit insecure when she felt chosen by people. I mean, who would want to date someone who can't even see their significant other's face?
crushing on the badass blind witch !
summary: they have a crush on the reader who is skillful with magic but is also blind, how will they confess?
a/n: i’m sorry this took so long T-T i was having writers block then ideas came to me one day at 4am so ignore typos or mistakes..
masterlist. ☕︎ buy me a matcha?
jamil
jamil liked you because you didn’t take shit from anyone. you weren’t some helpless blind girl no you could take anyone and could do things for yourself.
he liked how confident you were in your skills, and how you knew what you were doing. you would often come over and help out scarabia with homework and magic skills, teach them a few tricks as well.
jamil grew fond of you, he would find himself making meals for you as a token of gratitude for helping him out but would brush it off as he just made too much food and decided to give you some.
he never let you help out in the kitchen but would allow you to taste test (which he never needed but he needs an excuse to be around you)
the two of you were never ones to rely on people but when you’re with each other, you couldn't help but lean on each other for help. it was a strange feeling but not necessarily a bad one, just different.
“so?”
“hm,” you smack your lips; pretending to think deeply, “no poison and it taste delicious,” you smirked as jamil scoffed.
"I would hope so."
“can never be too careful.”
jamil smiled as he looked at you fondly for a moment before speaking up
“wanna help me?”
“huh..?” you can hear and feel jamil shuffling closer towards you, “I don’t think this is a good idea jamil…”
“you’re not going to do anything crazy, just put the ingredients in the bowl then mix. simple.”
jamil stood behind you, you could feel his chest pressed against your back as he guided your hands towards each ingredient.
“don’t be nervous. I won’t let anything happen to you, you’re doing good.”
the only reason you were so nervous was because of how close jamil was. being blind heightened your other senses but with jamil it’s like they increased to the max.
all you could pay attention to how gentle his calloused fingers were against your hands, how you could hear him trying to control his breathing, and smell his cologne mixing with the aroma of fresh seasoned food.
you felt him stop both you and his hands from mixing but jamil didn’t let up.
he stayed behind you, hands still on yours.
“that wasn’t so bad was it?” still not moving.
“jamil…”
he knew he should move but his body wouldn’t listen to him. he surprisingly really liked being close to you.
jamil sighed before turning you to face him, “y/n. I.. I like you. a lot. you’ve always been very independent which is one thing I love about you but will you lean on me a bit?”
“jamil… you don’t want this.. I can’t.. I can’t do that to you.. I can’t see..”
he furrowed his eyebrows, moving his hands up to cup your face.
“that doesn’t matter. that never bothered me. it doesn’t matter if you can see or not. where’s that confident girl I know and love?”
you fidget with the ends of his hoodie
“give it a chance? you can put your trust in me.”
you shook your head, “i’ve always trusted you jamil. I.. I really like you too, I’ll lean on you only if you lean on me as well. i’m pretty dependable too.” you cracked a small smile which made jamil smile as well.
“anything for you.”
silver
silver respected you. he saw how you could handle yourself, you didn’t need anyone’s help and you were incredible with magic.
the two of you ended up training together, making each other stronger. you were a challenge to one another, pushing each other to be stronger. all thanks to lilia honestly.
he caught on silvers little crush before silver himself plus he thought you guys were a perfect pair.
silver always silently admired you which you could feel but sometimes you couldn’t tell. there’s times during lunch while you’re eating, you feel like someone’s watching you. of course you don’t know who it is so you have to ask your friends but they always say they never see anyone looking at you.
mainly because silver catches on and adverts his eyes somewhere else with a small blush.
“okay I think that’s enough training. you sound like you’re about to pass out silver.”
silver huffed as he slacked down against a tree, “i’m fine… just haven’t been sleeping well.”
you looked surprised as you took a couple steps towards where his voice was coming from and sat down.
“that doesn’t sound like you at all, are you feeling okay?” you slowly move your hands, trying to find where his were
silver pulled you closer to him as he placed your hands on his face, he assumed you wanted to check his body temperature which is slowly rising
“yeah just been thinking. sometimes I dream about it too which causes me to wake up.”
“are they nightmares?”
“no.”
silver closed his eyes as you felt around his face and neck, checking to see if he was okay.
“I dream about you.” he muttered as he leaned more into your touch.
“I think about these strange feelings I have when I look at you, when i’m near you,” silver whispered as if he was already asleep, “you appear in my dreams. sometimes we spar like earlier, sometimes we’re just in each others arms. I like those dreams, I like when i’m in your arms.”
you felt warm, he sounds like he’s half asleep. does he know what he’s saying?
“silver? do you actually mean that? do you know what you’re saying right now..?”
silver slowly open his eyes to see how tense you look, “of course I do. I really like being with you y/n.”
“I- I like being around you too silver but i’m not sure you would want to be around me all the time..”
that woke silver up as he straightened up.
“why wouldn’t I?”
“i’m blind silver, nobody wants to be around the blind girl.”
“I do. you being blind doesn’t change anything.”
your hands slip down, pulling away from him but silver moved them around his neck.
“y/n… you’re one of the strongest person I know. you may not be able to see with your eyes but you see the world through everything else and that’s beautiful. I want to see your world and be part of it, if you’ll let me.”
you felt tears welting up but held back, letting out a small chuckle
“you’re quite the charmer aren’t you?”
“i’m just being honest with you.” silver lightly pushed a strand of hair behind your ear.
silver is quite the gentleman that made you forget all the dark thoughts that built up in your head.
“I would love for you to be part of my world silver.” silver gave a gentle smile then brought your hand up to his mouth kissing your knuckles before diving down to lay a kiss on your cheek.
floyd
you were so interesting to him. he can’t help but mess with you.
you were fun. he liked sneaking up on you seeing how long it took for you to notice him. although you could always sense him as soon as he gets in your vicinity which made it fun and a challenge for him.
you didn’t know why floyd would follow you around, you knew floyd would latch onto things he found interesting but would soon get rid of them once he was bored.
sure he was with you now but you knew he would throw you away like everyone else, I mean you couldn’t even see him- he would get bored eventually.
although he didn’t.
he would stick by you all the time, talking and poking fun at you. he likes to see how fast your reflexes are and how well your other senses are.
it was strange but you strangely liked his company. no matter how much he tried to annoy you.
“alright alright guess what i’m holding now~” floyd giggled as he moved your hands towards whatever was in his hands.
you sighed as you felt around then flinched, “floyd are you- UGH? why is it slimy?”
he cackled, “I don’t know, I found it in jades garden thing. It’s a… uhm.. I don’t know it’s a thing!”
you wiped your hands on his jacket which he didn’t care, he was smiling like a mad man.
floyd was terrible at describing things which always made you laugh but you could tell he was trying sometimes.
floyd got rid of whatever was in his hands then went back to holding yours. it caught you off guard- floyd is a very touchy person, always has his arm draped around you or holds your hand to guide you somewhere but you didn’t understand why he was holding them now. the two of you were just sitting on the grass hiding from azul as usual.
“why are you so tense?” he squeezed your hand.
"i'm not.” you didn’t even realized how tensed you became.
you could feel him staring at you. you could always feel his eyes on you, you didn’t get it.
“spit it out shrimpy.”
you sighed, “why are you always around me? it’s not that I mind, it’s just, don’t you have better things to do?”
“nope, I rather be with you than doing the dishes.” floyd shrugged as he slumps against you
“I get that but I mean… you’re always around me all the time. don’t you get tired of the same old routine? I-I can’t even see you floyd! aren’t you tired of hanging out with someone who can’t even see anything, aren’t you tired of trying to describe things to me?” you finally burst.
you didn’t realize how hard you were squeezing floyd’s hand until he put his other hand on top of yours which you immediately let go but floyd wasn’t about to let that happen.
he gripped them tightly enough to ground you.
“so what? just cause you can’t see doesn’t mean anything, you’re still cool. you can still sense me and have pretty neat reflexes,” he chuckles, “you thought I was just gonna have my fun and dump you?”
you turned your head towards his voice, its like he read your mind.
“sorry shrimpy you’re stuck with me~ you can’t get rid of me that easily!” he hugs you.
“I don’t care if you can’t see, you’re fun and I like you. but you better tell me who’s been putting those silly little thoughts in your head ya?” you feel his threatening look when he said that last part.
“I really like you floyd, thank you for being there for me.”
he has the biggest grin on his face but you don’t need to see it, you can feel the warmth around you.
he gives you a big sloppy kiss on your cheek.
“haha! now let’s go annoy azul~”
jade
jade felt intrigued by you the first time he saw you.
your skills were incredible there’s no doubt about it but once he took a closer look, he realized you couldn’t see your opponents.
he was even more fascinated by how well you kept up with everyone.
from then on, he would be around you, finding out more about you.
at first it was just for learning more about humans, nothing more.
then he started feeling something. something new and… strange.
he liked your company, he liked listening to you talk, about your experience, about your interests, everything and you would listen to his.
jade suddenly felt more possessive of you. the amount of death glares people get whenever they were around you, you don’t even need to see- you can feel his stares.
you also grew fond of jade for his silly obsessions and how he was always there for you. you were so used to doing things yourself that for once you didn’t mind leaning on him.
it was clearly obvious to everyone around you how much you two liked each other, its very rare for jade to be around someone for this long and not have it be business related.
however no one made a move. not you, not jade.
"try this new drink I've just come up with. I'm sure it will be to your liking."
"it doesn't have anything funny in it does it?"
"I assure you it doesn't. it looks quite nice. a light blue color on the bottom which fades into a clear color at the top of the glass. I even added ice cream on top of it along with whipped cream and a cherry."
you smiled. jade has always described things for you. you never asked him to, he just does it. he'll describe a certain mushroom he found then start naming facts about it.
you took a sip, “it taste delicious, and it sounds like it looks lovely as well.”
jade stares at you for a moment, silently admiring you.
“do you ever wonder what I look like?” the question caught you off guard.
jade has described himself to you before. you never touched him, the most you felt were his hands.
“yes.”
you felt yourself being guided somewhere. somewhere more quiet. his room you believe.
he sat you on something soft, his bed you felt.
“jade..?”
he didn’t say anything but took your hands with his own, no gloves, just his own guiding yours towards his face.
"you know most people would be terrified to be this close to me, nobody would dare to touch me- but you, I don’t mind it at all.”
you froze. hands unsteady as you map out jades face. feeling every bump and scar, everything he had to offer.
“why.. why are you doing this..” you slowly pulled your hands away but jade kept them close, holding one while guiding the other to his hair.
“isn’t it obvious? you’re quite smart i’m sure you can figure it out.” he chuckled.
you still felt unsure, your throat felt dry, nervous to say anything and he noticed.
“but I guess i’ll indulge you. I like you y/n.”
you frown which shocked jade, did he read the situation wrong? no he’s sure you feel the same.
“I- I can’t see jade.”
he blinked. “yes I am aware.”
“i’m blind jade, I can’t see you, I can’t see anything. why would you like me, why would you want to be with me…”
jade understands now.
“do you think that because you’re blind I shouldn’t like you?” every time you tried to pull back jade wouldn't let you go, his grip was firm.
"y/n. I truly do not care if you're blind. that does not change how I feel about you. I like you, I've never been one for feelings so this is new for me but please will you let me be your eyes y/n?"
you were still hesitant but jade was rubbing his thumb across your hands which gave you comfort.
"you sure it doesn't bother you?" jade kissed your hand then leaned in kissing each side of your temples, "absolutely."
"I like you too jade."
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a/n: I've always been bad at describing things... i'm more of a visual person.. so this probably sucks idk how to word things..
I need a Reader who just has to rawdog it through life.
No caffeine, regulated sugar, no alcohol, no tobacco, no energy drinks, no milk, no cheese, no gluten.
Reader who has Pica, Reader who works a night shift and yet has insomnia, so they are just constantly tired. Reader who has problems walking, Reader with a lazy eye, reader with ‘unattractive’ features.
Reader with mobility devices who still push their limits to improve. Med student Reader who can’t find a job to support it. Broke Reader being screwed over by their debt, Reader with albinism, black Reader having the paper bag test done to them at work, asian Reader influencer having to deal with the white men in their comments.
Biracial Reader struggling to choose an identity when the world chooses it for you, specifically a non black mixed Reader. Like Indian reader mixed with Japanese, who’s skin doesn’t match the projected image, and yet is too far away from their other culture.
Disordered eater Reader who staves themselves all day only to binge eat when they can’t take it. Disordered eater Reader who works out too much and yet forgets to eat.
Scarred Reader who is not the romantic stereotype, who looks deformed by their scars. Burned Reader struggling to be treated as human after their mutilation. Amputee Reader struggling to relearn their body.
Curly-haired Reader wishing to have straight hair and straight-haired Reader wishing to have curls.
A Reader who covers their freckles, and a Reader who paints them. A masc-looking Fem!Reader who struggles to wear feminine clothes, fem-looking Male!Reader struggling to look masculine!
Give me a Reader with too many siblings, who isn’t the oldest, and is lost in the middle! A Reader who daydreams the day away, who draws cringe OCs and cries when their favorite character dies!
A Reader who’s too empathetic, a Reader who’s too apathetic! A Reader who’s overwhelmed with parenting, a Reader trying to reparent themselves after being raised a brat. An high-functioning autistic Reader who tries to validate their experiences. A high-needs autistic Reader who uses a robotic voice to communicate (I forgot what it’s called 😞) and yet is still chatty and funny!
A Reader who is afraid of stupid things, a narcoleptic Reader who finds everything funny. A Reader with no humor, a Reader who’s working off weight. And I’m not talking no ‘140 lbs(63.503kg) to 80lbs(36.287kg) 🤩!’ type Y/N build. I’m talking overweight Reader deciding (FOR THEMSELVES!!!!!) that they want to loose a couple pounds. I want a bodybuilder chubby Reader who can lift over 300 lbs (136 kg).
I need a nerdy BL lover Reader, who spends all their money on their Gacha games. Weirdo Reader, who knows more people online than real life. Creepy Reader who watches analog horror to make theories.
Perv Reader who’s usual reads is smut, who’s favorite authors are dark romance. Where’s the crime loving Readers, who yumeship themselves with criminals. Where’s the other side of crime loving Reader, who spends hours working to the sound of crime podcasts. Digital artist Reader, who draws to the sounds of body-cams and celebrates in their room when the bad guy gets caught.
Niche fandom Reader who makes their own merch, dedicated to a dead fandom like it’s their legacy. AO3 author Reader who’s iconic throughout the fandom. (Like Jabsartt, or the Mirrors fic)
WE NEED READERS WHO WE CAN RELATE TO!! NO PLAIN Y/N, GIVE THEM SOME SPICEEE!!! MAKE THEM CREEPY WEIRDOS WHO CAN’T RELATE TO NORMAL PEOPLE!!
aka I just want a weirdo reader. Not even just that, but that was the OG intent. Make them relatable people. Make them fat. Not even chubby, give them elbow meat and make them have big faces. Make them weak and slow, make them desperate, make them relatable. Make their lives shit, make them feel inferior, build them back up into a new person. Make them spontaneous, put yourself in there, the good, the bad, and the ugly.
And for goodness sake, please don’t make the default white. Write your own experiences into them, how would you react, not some perfect doll. Don’t be afraid of the cringe that might come from writing Readers of different colors and race, just stay away from the stereotypes. You can even look up how to write different races or read experiences from the people of that race you’re basing it off of. Don’t make white the default. As a white person.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Yandere!Fake husband!Undercover agent oc x blind!wife! Reader
Warning: sexual intercourse, mention of death, kidnapping, yandere themes, attempt to murder
_________________________________________
Veryon lips swallowed her pants and whimpers as his freshly showered wet hair tickled your head. He was half dressed ready to go to work but as soon as his eyes locked on your form tangled in sheets hickey's and bite marks littered on your soft body he lost it. Foot steps striding back to the bed as you flinched at the sound he loosened his tie and captured your lips in a seering kiss.
He just can't get enough of you... Maybe.... His marriage with you was nothing but a sham but now he wants nothing but to marry you again and again till you forgive him for what he did.
You had been blind since birth, but you had never needed sight to love. You had fallen in love with him ... Your 'husband' through his voice, his touch, his scent—the only man who had ever held you with such warmth. Or so you thought.
He had come into her life suddenly, sweeping her off her feet with sweet whispers and gentle caresses. His voice was deep, teasing yet soft when it mattered. She never saw the mask he wore, never questioned the way he always avoided letting her touch his face. She was too in love to notice the distance in his heart.
For her it was her life... A chance to live like a normal person a husband a house maybe a few kids?? She used to blush on those thoughts...but now???
And for him it was nothing but a mission to spy on the person he needed and leave... He always did this to multiple people.. multiple identity... It's his job... And he is good at it...but this time??? He saw you as a trouble... Blind person?? Clingy... Demanding...it's hectic but he can complete his work...after all he is the best....
On their honeymoon, she had mewled his name so sweetly, so desperately, as she gave him her everything. And the next month, he was gone. Dissapeared.
She searched for him, waited, prayed. But he never returned.
Until tonight.
The air in her small studio trembled as a shadow moved inside. It's a saying that if god takes one thing he gives another .. which was same for you... You maybe blind but yound other senses were sharp, you instantly felt it .. another presence, now hollow and tired, clutched your cane but did not scream. You had no one to call for, no one who would come even if you did. Instead, you turned to the intruder with a broken smile and reached for the hidden drawer.
"Here… take it all," you whispered, pushing a bundle of money toward him. "Take whatever you need and leave."
The man....silent, frozen...watched her. He hadn’t expected this. She thought he was a thief ???He had only come back for a file he left, not for… this.
Not for her.
As she turned away, her cane tapping the floor lightly, she paused. Sniffed the air. Her brows furrowed.
That scent…His scent.
It was him.
But it couldn't be. Her husband was gone. Dead to her, if not literally. This man.....this thief .......was an impostor.
She reached out hesitantly, her delicate fingers brushing against his jaw. The second she felt bare skin, she flinched.
No that's not how his face has been.....Not him.
She backed away quickly, shaking her head, whispering apologies, as if she had made a mistake. As if her soul wasn’t screaming that her love had returned.
He didn't speak. He only followed.
Up the creaking stairs. Through the dim hallway. Into her private sanctuary.
And then he saw it.
A statue. Perfectly sculpted, detailed with devotion. A replica of himself—his masked self. He don't know why but the pang of jealousy he felt for that silicon mask at that time made his jaw tightened.
His breath hitched. His stomach twisted.
She had never seen his face. But she had memorized him. Every cut every puff ...Even in betrayal, she still held onto him.
And for the first time, he regretted ever leaving her......or more like using her.
He started coming back. Every night.
At first, he convinced himself it was just for the file he had left behind. Then, it was because he wanted to see if she was doing fine. And then......he stopped lying to himself.
He needed to see her. She knew...... It was him .....but also not him....
Y/N never said a word, but she knew. The way she brushed past him in the doorway, her shoulder lightly grazing his, never flinching, never hesitating. The way she poured an extra cup of tea, letting it sit on the table, untouched, until it went cold. The way she no longer locked the door.
But she never acknowledged him.
Not once.
She simply continued her routine. Every evening, she sat by the small wooden table, setting down two plates—one for herself, and one for the man she once called her husband.
And every night, after eating in silence, she would take his.... His masked self the identity he killed... of her husband plate and throw away untouched.
He watched from the shadows as she did it. Every. Single. Night.
One evening, he found a third plate placed carefully next to hers.
For him.
He stared at it for a long time, his chest tightening in something unfamiliar, something suffocating. She had never said a word, but she knew.
She accepted his presence, but not his existence.
That night, she took the stack of plates she had prepared for her vanished husband.....the ones she had been setting aside in foolish hope.....and with trembling hands, she shattered them one by one.
Tears slipped down her cheeks, silent but endless.
His hands clenched at his sides. His jaw tightened. He had thought she would forget him. He had hoped she would move on.
But seeing the broken plates, he realized something terrifying.......
She had never stopped waiting.
And now, she was trying to let go.
But could he let her?
Then one night, he found the door locked.
For the first time since he started coming back, he couldn’t step inside.
He stood there in the cold, staring at the wooden barrier that now separated them. His fingers twitched at his side, itching to knock, to demand entry.
He could easily break in without any efforts .....he have always been the best to crack codes and locks... But this time.
But he didn’t.
Because he knew.
She was closing the door on him.
Inside, Y/N sat by the table, running her hands over the smooth edges of the two plates she still used—hers and his. Her fingers trembled, but she didn't cry.
She couldn't cry anymore.
For weeks, she had let him linger in the space between knowing and pretending, between guilt and longing. She had let him exist in her world, let herself feel the ghost of the love she once cherished.
But now… it had to stop.
She wasn't the same woman who had once clung to him so desperately. The blind painter who had worshipped a man without a face. The foolish bride who had given him her everything, only to be left with nothing .......
She was done.
The next night, he returned.
And found the door locked again.
No brush of her shoulder in the hallway. No silent gestures of acknowledgment. No extra plate on the table.
She was shutting him out.
By the third night, he stopped coming.
And just like that—everything went back to normal.
Except for one thing.
She no longer cooked for two.
Because there was noone to cook for.
The first time he saw after this was a month later...at an art gallery with one of her paintings , he stopped in his tracks.
It was him.
Not his real face, of course—she had never seen it. But the masked version of himself. The man she had loved, the man who had abandoned her the identity he killed.
The piece was breathtaking. A faceless figure, wrapped in shadows, with hands that almost reached out, but never touched. Loneliness dripped from every brushstroke.
And it was sold.
He clenched his jaw. She was moving on.
More paintings began to appear in galleries, in shops, even in private collections. Her name was spreading.
She was thriving again.
He watched from afar as she transformed, her hands.....once delicate, trembling.... now steady with purpose. She no longer locked herself away. She went to exhibitions, met people, smiled more.
She painted without restraint, without sorrow.
One evening, he found himself outside her studio again, staring at the faint glow of light from her window. He shouldn’t be here. She had locked him out for a reason.
Yet, he couldn’t walk away.
Through the open curtains, he saw her.
Sitting at her easel, painting with quiet focus.
His chest tightened.
Because this time… she wasn’t painting him.
She was painting herself.
He wasn’t sure why he did it. Maybe it was instinct, maybe it was obsession, or maybe it was just guilt.
But the moment he saw the painting in the gallery....her painting....he bought it.
Now, he sat in his dimly lit apartment, a glass of whiskey in one hand, staring at the canvas propped against the wall.
It wasn’t a painting of him.
It was her.
She had painted herself sitting alone, bathed in soft golden hues, her blind eyes turned toward a sky filled with unseen stars. Her hands were folded in her lap, serene, as if she had finally found peace.
She looked beautiful. Ethereal and untouchable.
He took a slow sip of his drink, letting the burn spread through his chest, but it wasn’t enough to drown the ache inside him. She was moving forward. And he was left behind, watching from the shadows. The mask he had worn as her husband.....the mask she had once adored.....sat discarded on the table beside him.
Useless. Meaningless.
Because the man she had loved no longer existed.
And the man he was now…
Was nothing but a stranger....
The ring was still on her finger....
He noticed it when he saw a photo of her at another exhibition.....standing next to a critic, smiling faintly, her hands folded in front of her. The simple gold band still clung to her left hand, gleaming under the lights.
She hadn’t taken it off.
Even after locking him out. Even after selling their memories through paint.
He closed his eyes and took another sip of his whiskey, feeling the cold weight of metal against his chest.
His ring.
It hung from a thin chain around his neck, hidden beneath his shirt, resting against his skin like a ghost of the past.... He had tried to take it off once. Held it in his palm, stared at it for what felt like hours.
But he couldn’t let go.
Just like her.
They were both trapped in something neither of them dared to name. Not love. Not hatred. Just… unfinished.
He exhaled, tipping his head back, eyes drifting to the painting of her across the room.
Still out of reach.
Still his.
It happened so fast.
One second, she was walking down the quiet street, the cool night air brushing against her skin. The next, she collided with a solid chest.....strong, familiar.
A gasp left her lips as steady hands caught her arms, stopping her from stumbling. The scent of whiskey and something deeper, something achingly familiar, wrapped around her.
No.
She didn't want to know.
Didn’t want to confirm.
Her fingers, trembling, accidentally brushed against his shirt......just where the fabric dipped slightly. And there, against his warm skin, she felt it.
A ring.
Cold metal. Hanging from a chain.
Her breath hitched. Her fingers curled into fists, as if trying to erase the touch, erase the truth.
She knew that ring. She wore its twin.
Her body went rigid, and before she could think, she turned and ran.
She didn’t care that she couldn’t see. She knew these streets. Knew every crack in the pavement, every turn. But even as she sprinted, she could hear him behind her.
His footsteps. Following. Chasing.
"Y/N—"
She shut her ears, heart pounding, panic clawing at her chest....
No. He wasn’t real. He wasn’t supposed to be real.
But the ring....His scent.... His voice....
He had never left after all.
He had taken leave from work.... He just can't leave her when she looked so fuckable.... She was sitting on the dining table wearing on of his t shirts.... The marks on thigh visible... He was cooking humming.... She grabbed the butter knife and softly padded to him . But before she could strike he softly took the knife away..
"You cannot even cut vegetable with that thing honey ..."
He softly said as he kissed her fingers now.
She flinched at the touch of his fingers and lips on her own... And then a chill ran down her spine when he sat her on the counter bunching up the shirt.
"I thought you are so weak that you can't even walk... After all you were squealing like a dying goose as I fucked you...saying it was too much... But thinking you are still able to walk... I think I was wrong.... Let's change that hmmm??? Breakfast can wait ...
SYNOPSIS: Abby is obsessed with you, the pretty dog trainer that spends most of her time in the kennels and listening to audio books. She knows there's something special about you, but she didn't know how special... Why did no one tell her from the beginning?
WARNINGS: Canon-typical violence, blood and gore, stitches, Soft!Abby, assertive!reader, honestly pretty tame
A/N: There will be another part to this! Next will be NSFW but enjoy some pining for now! I had this idea years ago and I just now found the motivation to finish it! ENJOY!
Everyone knew who you were at the WLF stadium. New recruits were almost unheard of and to say everybody was suspicious of you was a gross understatement. No one truly knew how long you had been here, but now that you were just starting to make yourself known, everyone thought you were fresh blood. Whispers circled around the base like wildfire and the scrutiny you faced on a daily basis was debilitating. However, you stood strong against adversary and blocked out the rumors of how you got here and why Issac let you in.
You didn’t speak to anybody, and in turn, hardly anyone spoke to you except to swear when you got in the way, or when you simply worked in your section of the stadium. You were not a soldier and weren’t meant for field work, so when Issac offered you a chance to work in the walls, with the dogs, you jumped at the opportunity.
Of course, even in the pens, you weren’t safe from the ugly words of the soldiers that came by to sign out their designated canines for patrol routes. And on this particular day, you were working with one of your favorite dogs, a sweet German shepherd named Alice.
Alice belonged to a very particular crew that had grown attached to her loyalty and smarts, just as much as you had. You were going through basic commands with the canine, the bag of treats on your hip as you directed her into a sitting position and then commanded her to stand.
You knew you had an audience, but you ignored it as you gave Alice one of the small biscuits and then crouched down, snapping your fingers and commanding “front”. The canine immediately jumped into action, sliding between your legs and standing strong while looking up at you. The brush of the dog against your legs made you smile as you offered another biscuit and gently scratched behind her ears.
“Aww, good girl! Look, you are so smart!” You praised, Alice drinking it up happily as she rolled over and showed her belly to you for rubs, You scratched at her chest and ruffled the fur on her neck before hearing the gate unlock behind you.
“Hola, señorita,” You heard that Spanish accent behind you and immediately stood up slightly straighter, stepping to the side and telling Alice to heel next to you. “Is she ready for work?”
“Make sure not to overwork her, Manny,” You stated plainly, almost with no feeling. “She’s still recovering and needs a short route to be one hundred percent.”
“Aye, lo siento,” Manny apologized with genuine sincerity. “As I’ve stated before, it was an accident that I have paid for—”
“Letting her get into your half-closed liquor is not something to be taken lightly,” You snapped. Alice noticed your tone and immediately lay down on her belly, panting in the slight heat but to also show uneasiness. “I’ve treated lots of illnesses in these canines, but never alcohol poisoning.”
“Don’t worry about Alice,” Another voice piped up and you directed your attention in the area it sounded from. “I’ll make sure she’s safe today. She won’t be alone with him for a second.”
The tone and deep rumble of the woman made you relax, and you gave a click of your tongue towards Alice. The canine responded and stood up, running to the woman across the pen that was Manny’s patrol partner. “Thank you, miss Anderson.”
“Of course, thank you Abby,” Manny jeered. No doubt that he was rolling his eyes at the tone shift from you and you smiled ever so slightly before turning back around and going about your day like nothing happened. Hard to go on when your favorite soldier stopped by and made your heart flutter in your chest… But there’s no way she thought of you outside the pens. Why would she? What would she want with the blind dog trainer?
By the time the group returned, Abby had noticed you weren’t in the pens. Which was odd because you worked the longest hours, even longer than her sometimes. Confusion was written on her features as she returned Alice to the kennels and looked around behind the person at the sign-out counter.
“Lookin’ for something?” The girl at the front inquired. When Abby said your name, the girl sighed and rubbed at her temple. “She broke up a fight about an hour ago… She’s in the infirmary gettin’ stitches.”
“Shit, is it bad?” Abby said with far too much worry in her voice for comfort. When the woman shrugged as if she didn’t know or care, Abby scoffed and left the area. There was something that grated on her nerves about the entire situation, and the worry that set in was a new kind of irritation. Why did she care about you so much? She’s spoken to you maybe seven times the entire time you had shown up in the last 2 months?
Well, in lamest terms, Abby couldn’t help but be slightly infatuated with you… You had a way with animals that she had never seen before. Your kindness for all the living creatures in the stadium always went above and beyond for what she was used to. And you seemed like you knew animals better than other people. You were cold and distant with humans, but warm and friendly to the dogs in the kennels.
It also didn’t help that Abby thought you were hot. You weren’t muscular like she was, or skinny and lean like most of the women at the stadium. Abby noticed that you carried more weight than others, but it wasn’t in a bad way. Especially when she caught herself staring at your tits when you wore low cut shirts and noticed streaks of dirt on your cleavage from the dogs that always jumped on you.
You were Abby’s type, through and through. Thick thighs, soft tummy, squishy breasts, everything she drooled about on her own time and when alone. And now she was left with the dilemma of deciding to go to the mess hall with her team, or visit the infirmary and check on you…
Fuck the team. Abby couldn’t live with the worry that was eating her brain.
“You may want to look away for this,” The medic stated, making you give them an expression of utter disbelief at the choice of words. “I am so sorry, it was a force of habit—”
“Do you want me to turn my head? Would that freak you out less?” You teased the woman that chuckled nervously and slowly pushed the needle into the bite marks on your arm and injected the numbing agent. You felt blood pool onto the table and seep into the sterile towels under your arm. Across your forearm sat large, jagged puncture wounds in the shape of canine teeth.
One of the newer dogs got anxious when she heard a whistle and went into attack mode almost instantly. She snapped at one of the older canines that was lying around in the pen and when you heard the commotion, instinct took over. However, the older canine was immediately jumping offensive and sunk his teeth into your forearm. And the second he realized his mistake; he released and flopped down onto his belly like he was afraid of you reacting negatively.
You had no ill will towards the dog and immediately dragged the young female back inside away from the old male and took yourself to the infirmary with your shirt wrapped around your arm to stop the bleeding as best you could.
The stitches weren’t hard to endure. You had so many over the years that you could handle stitches better than almost anything. Even popping your shoulder into place hurts more than the needles. But you’d never get used to the way your flesh was pulled together. The numbing agent couldn’t stop the odd tugging sensation you felt when the thread was knotted.
You completely zoned out as she stitched up your arm, not realizing you were staring off towards the entrance and your other senses dulled for a second before you heard a familiar voice echoing in the medical unit.
“Hey, I heard you got in a fight?” Abby teased slightly. You chuckled and gave a little nod. “Jeez, well looks like you lost, huh?”
“It wasn’t a fair fight, the other guy had some massive teeth,” You joked, leaning on your other arm as you tried to relax. But now that Abby was near you, your heart began to beat a little faster and it made the bleeding in your arm slightly worse. “What are you doing here though, miss Anderson?”
“Abby, please,” When her hand gently touched your shoulder, you jumped slightly and it made Abby jump in the process, her hand flexing on your bare skin and making a shiver go down your spine. Holy fuck, her hand was calloused and warm. And it was huge… How big was she? “Was worried about you, kennel girl.”
“What a charming nickname,” You rolled your slightly clouded eyes and felt the medic tighten another stitch, making your skin crawl at the feeling. “Why worry about lil’ old me, Abby? I’m not anything special.”
“I beg to differ,” Abby took up the space next to you, watching the stitching process and noticing your fingers twitch slightly at every tug of your skin and resisted the urge to reach for your other hand in the process. “I mean, I know that stitches suck and it’s not fun to sit through so I figured I could be moral support.”
“Well, that’s nice of you,” You smiled, genuine and warm, making her stomach twist inside of her body as you stared down directly as the medic stitched up a particular gruesome puncture wound. Abby shuddered at the sound of the needle going into your flesh and gaped when you didn’t react in the slightest.
“I’m impressed your doing so well,” She said, her braid sliding off her back and down her shoulder, brushing against your arm. “I couldn’t even watch them stitch up my cut finger, let alone my whole damn arm.”
“Eh, seen nothing once, seen nothing a thousand times before.”
Abby raised a brow in confusion. “Nothing? You seeing the same bite I’m seeing?”
The laugh you let out had the medic halting her work for a second as you turned your head, but you weren’t looking into Abby’s eyes. Instead, you were looking down at where her nose was on her face, and it wasn’t until that moment that Abby noticed the slight cloud in your irises and around your pupils, along with the scarring around your eyes.
“You can’t be seriou— Abby, I’m blind,” You stated with a chuckle.
The blonde was at a complete loss for words, her eyes widening slightly as she stared at yours. Humor played on all your features as the medic finished your stitches and began to wipe the blood off your skin, meticulously wrapping your arm with rolled gauze. And the entire time, you didn’t turn your head once. Abby suddenly felt like the biggest idiot in the world.
“You— You can’t see anything?”
You shrugged slightly, rolling your shoulder. “Some shapes, and colors usually. But beyond that, nothing. Never seen what you look like, never seen what Manny looks like, I only know what the dogs look like because I work with them all day and I become familiar with their faces through touch. It’s how we desensitize them.”
“So, you recognize through touch?” Abby said softly as she could see your fingers twitching. Very cautiously, she reached for your wrist on your uninjured arm and spread out your fingers. “You can see, or feel, what I look like?”
“…May I?” You asked softly. Abby responded by gently placing your hand on her chest and you inhaled sharply, fingers tensing up as you slid your hand up slowly across her body. It rubbed along her shoulder and then down her bicep where you almost whined at the muscle under your touch. Solid, strong, and wide. Like a fucking python under your grasp.
Your hand slid up over her shoulder again, across her neck, and to her jaw where Abby shuddered at your touch to her face, leaning against your touch and closing her eyes. Fingertips traced along her cheekbone and down her nose. You paused at the bump on the bridge of her nose before sliding up and tracing a small scar on her face and then between her eyebrows. When you reached her hairline, Abby gripped at the edge of the medical cot, feeling your touch go down her scalp and grasp the braid in your hand all the way to the end of the meticulously weaved hair.
Abby was in almost trance and when you spoke, she resisted the urge to whine. “I was right. You are attractive.”
It was like a record skipped inside of her head. The blonde paused, not saying anything for many seconds, before she responded with a very dumb sounding “Huh?”
Almost instantly, your hands pulled away from her face, and you chuckled nervously, turning away to try and hide the way your face was heating up. Even if you couldn’t see it, you knew Abby could and you wouldn’t ever live it down.
“W-Well, I uhm,” You jumped from the bench, your hip connecting with the medical tool cart and knocking the instruments to the floor. The crashing sound echoed in the tent, and you flinched, scratching the back of your neck to try and calm your racing heart. “T-Thank you for the company, Abby. I should uhm… I should head back to my room, rest my arm, you know? Uh, bye! Thanks for stitching me up, Heather!”
You waved at the medic before practically racing out of the room, your knee coming in contact with the tent post in the process. Abby winced at the echo of your bone hitting the solid metal and watched you limp away into the distance.
“Did everyone know that she was blind except me?” Abby looked at Heather, who hesitated to respond for a second. “I mean, she doesn’t act like it! H-How was I supposed to know?”
“You’re wondering ‘how has she stayed alive this long’ aren’t you?” Heather said to Abby. When the blond didn’t respond, the medic continued. “She’s more competent than you think.”
Abby’s thoughts wandered to how you were so capable in the kennels and how you gave those commands so fluidly. The way you snapped your fingers, the concise clicks and whistles, and with just simple sounds and commands, you trained some of the best dogs in the WLF. Bear was a flight risk until you got ahold of him and within five months, he was the best patrol canine anyone ever saw.
You were far more capable than people gave you credit for, and Abby felt shitty for thinking you struggled just because you were blind. If anything, you were more capable than half the recruits that had perfect vision.
The thoughts plagued her for days after she came to this newfound knowledge of you. She suddenly became aware that you were part of her morning routine more than she realized. She saw you passing on the other side of the hall, looking slightly down at the floor and mumbling something to yourself as you held what looked like a clicking device in your hands.
Abby caught you in the gym, watching you do cardio on the treadmill or the elliptical, attempting not to stare at your chest for too long whenever you would start to speed up on the machine. She saw you in the mess hall, sitting alone and wearing over-the-ear headphones with a tape player connected to it.
Her curiosity got the better of her as she lingered by your table, looking down at the tape inside the device and seeing words scrawled on the cassette. “Stardust: Neil Gaiman”
Abby hadn’t expected an audiobook; you must have frequented the library like she did on many nights where she wasn’t allowed to stay in her dorm because, of course, Manny was appealing some poor woman who fell victim to his Spanish charm or whatever it was.
“You need something?” Abby jumped at your words as you took off your headphones and paused the tape.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt,” Abby said nervously as the sound of her voice immediately made you smile more than it should have. “You seemed—Wait, how’d you know I was here?”
The snort you tried to stifle made Abby’s cheeks heat up with admiration. “I… I don’t want to say that the vibes feel off when someone is standing near me. When someone gets closer to me, I can feel it somehow. The air shifts in a way? And it makes me shiver… You know the feeling you get when you think someone is watching you?”
“All the time,” Abby sat across from you at the table, her hand reaching out slightly. When her index finger grazed the side of your hand, you redirected your face towards her and almost made eye contact.
“It’s something like that. It’s a feeling… It’s rare that I’m wrong, but sometimes I end up just talking to myself. But it’s a calculated risk?”
“I talk to myself too, it’s alright,” Abby smiled and carefully slid her fingertips across the top of your hand against your knuckles. She watched as you shuddered slightly but didn’t back away from her touch but rather leaned into it instead. “What’s your book about? I haven’t read that one before.”
“Oh! It’s about a boy in England that’s trying to win over a girl by bringing her a star,” You beamed with excitement at being able to discuss the book with someone.
“How does someone bring someone else a star?”
“So, there’s a village in England called Wall, and it’s because there’s a wall that runs along the outside of the village that leads to a magical world called Stormhold. Tristain, the main character, crosses the wall to bring back a fallen star but the fallen star is actually a woman named Yvaine…”
Abby stared at how you described the book with pure excitement, admiring your eyes widening with enthusiasm and how they gleamed in the poor fluorescent lights of the mess hall. She noticed the slight cloudiness whenever the light hit them just right, and how you spoke with your hands a lot. Every so often, your fingers graze across her arm as you basically explained the entire book to her in one sitting.
“Why would he do so much for a girl that barely notices him though?” Abby asked after you were finished explaining how an evil witch was after the star.
“Well, we do dumb things for the people we love,” You said weakly. Abby noticed how you blinked slowly, and your hand twitched near your eyes as you leaned against your hand propped on your elbow. It wasn’t until you were this close that Abby saw the scar going across the bridge of your nose and down past your left temple. “Even if they don’t even care about us in the end.”
“Well,” Abby said softly, her hand reaching out and slowly sliding her fingertips across your forearm. You looked up, almost meeting her gaze. “If you ask me, I think he belongs with the star.”
You smiled, and it lit up her entire day. “I couldn’t agree more.”
Ever since that day in the mess hall, Abby has been looking for every excuse under the fucking sun to try and spend time with you. When she wasn’t on patrol rotation or being stationed at other bases for days on end, she was going to the kennels where she would watch you train the dogs or just exist in the pens with all of the canines simply running around and enjoying their time just being dogs until they are taken out into the field.
However, you had a silly idea, and Abby would lie if she said she wasn’t nervous.
Standing in the middle of the pen with the clicker in one hand, she noticed how you simply stood on the sidelines, hands folded behind your back and smiling as a high-pitched whistle left your teeth. One of the younger dogs pranced up to you and you gave a simple command with just a hand gesture.
The canine you named “Septimus” fell back onto his haunches and gave a little bark before you offered a small piece of bacon as a reward. “Good boy, exactly… You wanna try?”
Abby chuckled nervously. “I’m not the best whistler…”
“That’s what the clicker is for,” You gestured to your own hand and snapped your fingers. Septimus barked and you made another hand gesture with a command of “JUMP!” and the German Shepherd jumped off the ground but got a little too close. His claws caught your shirt and tugged on the collar, ripping it a small amount and exposing even more of your chest than you intended to.
Abby was staring, barely registering your voice until she saw you get closer to her. “Earth to Abby…”
“O-Oh, sorry,” Abby cleared her throat, standing up a little straighter and pressing on the clicker between her fingers. The canine’s ears perked up and he barked before running up to Abby and staring at her like he expected something. Very hesitantly, she made the hand gesture you had but it had no effect on the dog this time around. “Well, he doesn’t seem too excited to listen to me.”
“It’s because you’re nervous,” You said gently. Before Abby could ask what you were getting at, you stood behind her and grabbed at her wrists from behind. The blonde inhaled sharply, feeling your warm body pressing against her own as you realigned her hands and pulled back her shoulders. “You have to make sure they know that you are in charge. You are the authority figure and your word is law… If you are hesitant, they will not follow you… Do it again, but with feeling. Power.”
Abby tried not to blush, even if you couldn’t see it. Her body was practically humming with arousal at your chest pressing right against her back and the way you spoke with sultry authority in her ear had her body burning from the inside out.
The sound of clicking had you focused on the canine where you could vaguely make out his shape and color. Abby’s body jerked forward, giving a sharp command of SIT and a soft little yip left Septimus before Abby grinned from ear to ear. “He did it! Or… was that just a coincidence?”
“Nope, that was all you Abby,” You smiled before you grabbed one side of her face and pulled her down. Without thinking, you gave the woman a little kiss to her cheek and then suddenly realized what you had done. Not quick enough to stop yourself though. “I-I’m sorry, I was just um… Uh… Fuck, I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s alright,” Abby said, a hand slowly going to her cheek where your lips made contact. It felt like lightning down her spine. You created feelings from her that Abby hadn’t felt in a long time. You were so gentle and calm, but assertive with the dogs and commanded obedience with just a single hand gesture.
“Well, I suppose I should uhm…” You cleared your throat before taking a little step back, your hand pressing on the gate before sliding down the door and turning the handle. “I’m gonna go take a shower, alright? You can hang out here or you know… head out?”
It looked like you were desperately trying to escape this situation. Abby frowned as you practically bolted down the field and towards the exit. Your shoulder clipped one of the gates and you let out a loud curse before continuing back inside of the stadium.
Abby was too busy staring at you running away that feeling something wet touch her hand made her jump to the side. Septimus shoved his entire head against her thigh and licked at her fingers one more time. Abby reached into her pocket, unwrapping the deer jerky she was keeping and gave him half of the strip. “You’re lucky you’re cute, I don’t share this with anyone.”
After that day, things went on as normal. Abby continued to visit you when she could, and you offered more training tips for Alice who was becoming the model recruit with every new exercise. There was the one time before her routes where Mel attempted to check her out instead of Abby and you took more time than usual to get the canine ready. It wasn’t until Abby made herself known that you released Alice from her command and allowed her to join them.
Abby had suspicions that you weren’t a fan of Mel, but she couldn’t really prove it. But when you heard Abby’s voice? Suddenly you were all smiles and sunshine. Everybody saw the way you acted around her, and even Manny started giving you shit about it. But Abby just thought you were being friendly… Maybe she was holding back for some reason? Not crossing the line with you because of your disability—No, it wasn’t a disability. But condition felt wrong too. Special quirk?
She wasn’t sure how to address it. Or if it was even something to address. You were prone to bumping into things, but that wasn’t because you were blind. You tend to move too fast and just hit things because of your speed, which Abby thought was cute. Of course, you had loads of bruises all over because of this, many of which Abby caught sight of while you were in the gym or standing in shorts while working with the dogs.
Her mind was running a mile a minute the entire walk to the assignment board in the morning. Her breath still smelled like peppers from her breakfast, but the pine scent of her soap evened it out a little. Abby danced around the crowd around the board, and she saw her name next to the patrol route on the west side.
Everything would have been fine… but then she saw your name. On a patrol route. For the suburbs. Not with her. No, scratch that, why the fuck were you going outside?!
“Who the hell wrote this today?!” Abby immediately shouted out loud to the whole garage. Everybody flinched at her voice echoing off the walls. Someone behind the desk stepped forward, and she recognized him as Miles. Arrogant asshole that thinks the workers inside the wall have it easy. And he may be entitled to his thoughts because he was missing his ring finger after one patrol last year, but what the fuck was he thinking?
“There a problem, Anderson?” Miles stated in that stupid jersey accent she hated.
“Yeah, you’re damn right there is,” Abby pointed to your name on the list. “She should not be going outside the stadium. She is not a soldier; she is a trainer!”
“So?” Miles rolled his eyes, pulling the list away from her hands. “It’s high time she learned what it’s like out there.”
“Oh, so you’re okay with sending out someone to fuckin’ die?” Abby snapped. “She’s fucking blind, Miles! She will be torn to pieces by infected in seconds!”
“Clickers are blind,” He said flatly. “They manage to stay alive out there.”
Abby wanted to strangle him. “Yeah, because they use echolocation to see! I don’t see her making any fucking whale calls to see the walls!”
Miles didn’t seem to care about what Abby was saying as he simply walked away to where he was sitting before kicking his foot up and cleaning the rifle by the desk. Abby clearly hadn’t finished tearing into him, but for the sake of time, she needed to fix things, fast.
“Look, you want her out? Just… just put her with me on the west side.”
Miles stopped. “You want me to change the routes, now?”
“Yes, fuckwit, I want you to change the routes, now.”
“These routes have already been approved with the outside and with Issac. You want me to change everything for some useless blind—”
Abby slammed her fist against the side of the wall, and the reverberation made Miles finally shut his mouth. There was murder in her eyes, and he could see her hand twitching, seconds from grabbing her pistol and holding the man at gunpoint to change his mind. Abby spoke through clenched teeth. “Put her. On my route. Now.”
Miles quickly scribbled all over the paper before putting the list back on the countertop. Mel was now going to the suburbs, and you were going to the west side. Good, this way Abby could protect you if something went wrong.
“You’re willing to risk your golden spot with Issac to protect some blind chick?” Miles mumbled. His tone was something that Abby did not like. “We can always find another fuckin’ trainer.”
Oh… Oh, that’s what this was. Miles was trying to get you killed on purpose. All of this shit must have been his idea from the start. He planned to send you out with fucking Ingrid and Charlotte, who were just as useless as he was, in the worst area for Scar activity, in hopes that the entire team would be wiped out and he could start training the new recruits early.
Abby wanted to string him up by his damn toes in the courtyard… But she had bigger fish to fry now. You needed to be prepared, and Abby wasn’t about to let you wander into a hive of clickers and Scars and fuck only knows what else.
Without even waiting for Manny to get to the garage, Abby was sprinting over to the courtyard, racing down the hallways and trying to get to the pens before you went with the wrong team. Of course, focused on getting there, Abby turned a corner and immediately slammed headfirst into somebody, knocking them to the floor underneath her.
Abby inhaled, attempting to catch her breath until she realized she recognized the smell of who was under her. And became painfully aware that she had her face right where she’d been fantasizing about for weeks. Abby looked up from your tits to look at your face. You had a painful expression, probably from hitting the ground too hard, and your hands went to her shoulders before she felt you trace a scar across her shoulder.
“Abby?” You slowly sat up from the concrete ground, rubbing at the back of your head and letting out a painful sigh. “Jeez, where’s the fire?”
“Huh?” Abby said, clearly still reeling from her run in and staring at your chest for far longer than she probably should have. Lucky for her, you would never notice that she was staring. You were warm as hell, and she was addicted to your smell… like a fucking dog. You smelled like rain, cinnamon, and fresh trimmed timber. Earthy, and warm.
“You were running so fast, you nearly ran right through me,” You said with a little smile. “They want me at the garage, so if you need me, I’ll be—”
“Oh no, wait!” Abby reached for your arm. “I just came from there! You uh… you’re going on patrol today!”
An emotion flashed over your face that didn’t truly reach your eyes. “Oh, okay. Uh… do you know who I’m with? I can’t exactly read the assignment list so I—”
“You’re with me,” Abby said, delight traced in her tone. A warm smile broke through on your face as you reached for her forearm and gently traced one of the veins in the crease of her elbow. “A-And Manny, if you can handle him.”
“I can handle anything, Abby,” You smiled before walking past her, your hip connecting with hers. You didn’t apologize this time around, so Abby could only assume that the bump was deliberate. Oh, you’re messing with her…
Abby watched you walk away, staring at you and groaning under her breath. “Fuck me…”
As soon as you two entered the garage, Abby led you towards the gun lockers and she signed out her usual rifle with steady hands. When they handed it over, you reached out and ran your fingers across the barrel.
“Okay, this is the one I usually check out, MOLOT-VEPR 308 with a 3-lug rotating bolt and semi-auto trigger. It’s not heavy-duty but it definitely works against hordes of infected at long range,” Abby reached for your hand and offered the rifle to you. Very slowly, you ran your fingers over the stock of the rifle before your index finger traced along the magazine and you ejected it from the gun. “Huh, how’d you—”
“I’m familiar with these models,” You said before pushing the magazine back in and handing it off to the blonde. “I prefer a shotgun myself.”
“Why’s that?” Abby motioned to the wall of shotguns, and they returned with a Remington 870. She handed it to you, and you immediately locked in, picking up the shells off the counter and loading the barrel to max capacity.
“Shotguns don’t need a ton of accuracy when there’s widespread. At close range, any shot is lethal,” You slung the weapon over your shoulder and smiled before accepting the pistol on the table and clicking on the safety. “I’ve got this, used to do this all the time.”
“You did?” Abby stared as you ran towards the truck without a second thought. For some reason, that never crossed her mind… There must have been a time when you weren’t always blind. The scars around your eyes showed an injury occurred to cause this, but Abby never asked about it.
Maybe she should have?
It was all in her head even after she jumped into the truck with you in the back. Manny asked if you wanted to sit in front with him, but you wanted to stay with Abby. It was a risk, you being exposed and not having any cover if they got ambushed… but Abby was confident she could protect you.
Things seemed to be going smoothly for the time being. A quick drive through the west side, catching two stragglers by the old hotel, but it was nothing Abby couldn’t handle while they were still in motion.
The path was fairly straightforward, but when Manny stopped the car by the train station, he could hear whistles in the distance. The Scars were too close to their base… Abby pulled on the bolt to her rifle and jumped out of the truck. You immediately went to follow, taking very cautious and careful steps right behind her.
“Manny, stay here and keep the truck running,” Abby said sternly.
“Aye aye, amiga,” Manny gave a little salute, reaching for his own pistol in case of an ambush. But the whistles sounded like they were looking for something in the distance and were too distracted to hear the car running off the side of the road.
You followed right behind Abby seamlessly, like you knew exactly what you were doing even if you hadn’t been out in the field for years. Cautious steps traced right behind her as she searched the area. You could smell something like a fire, and… fresh blood? The copper scent hit your nose, and you grabbed Abby’s arm. “There’s a fresh body nearby.”
A pause before Abby sighed. “I see it, looks like a group of runners… They’re wearing wolf patches though.”
Your nose wrinkled. “Must be infected nearby then. The Scars could have drawn them in with all their whistling.”
“Makes sense to me,” Abby slid the rifle over her chest and made sure you stayed close to her as both of you approached the open building on the left. A motel for the train station, most likely. The smell hit you with full force and you made a noise of disgust at the molding smell flooding all your senses.
“Jesus, the fuck is that?” You said through hushed tones, trying not to alert anybody nearby.
Abby chuckled. “Rain seeped into the wood… the whole place is rotting.”
“Okay well, maybe there’s supplies still in here?” You slowly stepped away from Abby, moving through the motel lobby towards the stairs. “It’s worth a shot, right—”
“Wait, stop!” Abby attempted to pull you back, but she couldn’t reach you in time. The sound of cracking echoed off the walls and the shriek that left you was loud enough to scare birds away from the trees outside. The rotted floor caved underneath you and in seconds you went from standing to falling into the basement of the motel. “Ohmygod! Are you okay?!”
Abby slid on her knees to the hole in the floor and looked down to see you holding your leg with both hands, trying not to sob with pain. You spoke through clenched teeth. “I’m alive… But… I think my leg’s broken…”
The blonde huffed and looked around, trying to find a way to get down to you. “Just stay there, okay? I’ll get you out.”
“Okay, just be—” You stopped abruptly at hearing shuffling in the darkness. Abby noticed how your entire demeanor changed as you reached for the shotgun on your back, holding the stock to your shoulder and staring at the ground. “Be quiet…”
Abby didn’t even breathe. She watched as you quite literally focused your senses, closing your eyes and tilting your head towards little sounds and shrieks that you could faintly hear in whatever was hiding within the basement. There weren’t any spores, which meant no clickers or shamblers, but probably something far worse was waiting in the dark.
You waited with expert patience, and before Abby even knew what was happening, you were rolling over on your stomach and firing the shotgun in the dark. The sound of the buckshot exploding against flesh and bone echoed in the basement, blood spraying across your face and onto the floor as you hissed and slowly turned back over, pumping the shotgun and firing another shot. A stalker fell down next to your body, but before you could pump the gun one more time, a stalker jumped on top of you, snarling and shrieking near your face.
Abby didn’t hesitate. Her fear of heights went out the window as she jumped down into the basement, her boots landing on the stalker’s corpse as she slammed her massive boot against the creature’s side. The stalker rolled off of you, snarling as you pumped the shotgun and fired the last slugger, blood and brain spraying in every direction.
You huffed, falling backwards on the ground and closing your glassy eyes. “Okay, that was it…”
“You clean?” Abby immediately began checking you over, wiping the blood off your face and looking over every inch of exposed skin she could see. No bites, but a lot of cuts covered your shoulder and cheek. “Okay, don’t see anything… Damn, you have good hearing.”
A laugh rang from your throat as you slowly sat up from the ground. “Well, you gotta adapt, right?”
“Yeah, I guess so…” Abby looked down at your leg and even just seeing it, she could tell it was fucked up. You attempted to move again but Abby shook her head aggressively to try and keep you in place. But then remembered and physically stopped you. “Wait, don’t move. You’ll make it worse.”
“Fucking hell,” You cursed. “H-how are we gonna get out of here?”
“No idea,” Abby looked up from where they fell and frowned. “We’re too far away to get Manny’s attention… and the sun’s gonna go down soon, shit.”
“You sayin’ we’re stuck here?” The panic in your voice reached the soldier and she knew that without proper medical care, your leg would be next to fucking useless. Both of you needed to find a way out of the basement, now.
“Stay here, okay?” Abby said. “I’m gonna try and find a way out of here.”
Abby slowly helped you wiggle over to the wall so you could rest against the surface. Very carefully, she pushed your hair away from your face and even if you didn’t see it, she smiled down at you before looking around in the basement for an easy out towards the street.
It took way too much focus to stretch out your broken leg, attempting to relieve the pressure but just causing yourself even more pain in the process. You cried out loud, covering your mouth with both hands if only to not show Abby how much anguish you were feeling. A fresh set of sores and bruises on your back, your leg probably in a cast for weeks… You had no business being out in the field again. Not after the accident.
Your fingers traced the scarring near your eyes, and you sighed, head thumping against the wall behind you. Abby noticed your sudden silence and decided any conversation was better than no conversation at that moment.
“So…” She turned on her flashlight to look for some kind of exit. Water dripped from upstairs and the smell was nearly killing her. “Have you ever been out in the field before? You’re pretty handy with the shotgun…”
You chuckled dryly. “Before the accident, I was a pretty damn good sharpshooter… Could hit a clicker from a thousand kilometers away.”
“Damn… Bet you were a killer lookout,” Abby smiled as she pulled some vines away from what looked like a way out of the basement. The door was slightly rusted, but it was definitely an exit. Abby looked for a crowbar. “So… what happened?”
The blonde noticed your hesitation, turning around to see you leaning forward and rubbing at your eyes. “Sorry, we don’t need to talk about it if you don’t want to—”
“There’s a reason we torture the Scars, Abby,” You frowned a little, rubbing the bridge of your nose between your eyes and shivering at the memory. “When Issac found me… The damage had already been done.”
“Damage?”
“This was before the treaty was signed… Issac found me before they could gut me by the bridges. Most of what happened is fuzzy, but I remember them saying that bullshit of “let her see the truth” and then…”
Abby stopped pulling on the vines. “The Scars blinded you?”
“With a mix of toxic chemicals,” You sighed, gently tugging on your hair and trying to ignore the throbbing in your leg. “Never figured out what it was… only that it caused permanent damage to my retinas. That was over seven years ago.”
“That was before I joined the WLF,” Abby frowned, looking around in the dark before her sights were set on… what are the odds, a literal crowbar. She tapped the metal against the rusted door before jamming the teeth between the frame and the wall. “I knew it was bad before but… Jesus, I guess I never realized how bad.”
“And ever since then, Miles has been fucking itching to send me out,” The sound of the door snapping away from the wall had you flinching. “I know what he’s trying to do… I’m dead weight. Any recruit that can’t be a soldier is wasted space.”
“But if Issac knows what happened to you, why would he let you leave the stadium?”
You laughed, but it was humorless. “Issac didn’t sign off on anything today, Abby. Miles put down my name and lied about the direct order. He wants me gone, and he’s willing to disobey orders to do it… But he fucked up pairing me with you. You’ve got a record; no one has ever died in your squad…”
Abby sighed, tossing the crowbar aside and slowly approaching where you were. “He had you with Ingrid and Charlotte… I forced him to put you with me.”
Before you could question why, Abby was tucking her arms under your legs and lifting you off the concrete into her arms. A little yelp left your throat as you grabbed at the back of her neck and tried not to tear up from the pain in your leg. “Huh...?”
“I saw right through his shit,” Abby stated, slowly making her way up the stairs and back inside of the main motel room. Hopefully it would be easy to get back to the truck, she didn’t want to have to run with you in her arms. “I knew you would have better odds with me than with them.”
“I see… Oh no wait, no I don’t,” You smiled, hoping she got the joke. Abby just smirked, giving a little breathless laugh before heading through the clearing towards where the truck was still running. Manny jumped from the driver’s seat almost immediately at the sight of the both of you, specifically you covered in blood and with your foot bent at a weird angle.
“What happened?! You were gone for forty minutes!”
“Well, turns out,” You flinched as Abby carefully put you down in the truck bed, climbing in behind you and pulling you back until your back was pressed into her chest. It took all of your self-control not to literally moan at the contact. “Old floors can collapse on you.”
“We gotta pack it in, her leg’s broken,” Abby said, feeling your heartbeat as she gently wiped away some of the blood on your neck and across the pulse in your throat. Manny immediately began driving back to the stadium and taking extra care not to run over anything to cause you further pain than you were already feeling. Abby noticed how relaxed you were while even in agony and she rested her chin on your head. “You keep getting hurt, kennel girl.”
You smiled, your fingers threading with hers. “Sorry, babe… I’m accident prone.”
Abby bit her lip. She really liked it when you called her that… This big, fat crush on you was going to cause her nothing but problems, she could just tell.
How would the mark variants treat a childhood friend turned girlfriend that became blind before childhood was over? Like how would mark treat his childhood love going blind, by adulthood shes totally blind, and how would his variants treat the same situation?
I can imagine the protectiveness going through the roof, and imagine the variants trying to hide how ugly the world outside is. I wonder which would even care that you are blind, try to help, and which would consider being blind perfect for their plaything. Harder to run away if you can't see.
There is an argument to be made that those who are born blind have it easier than those who go blind. People who were born with imperfect sight have not seen how light disperses between the ocean waves, and so they don’t fear losing that small happiness.
God can be cruel.
He had given you eyes that saw how the sun refracts through the tide, the way fireworks light up an evening sky and bring joy to everyone who witnessed their fleeting existence. God gave you Mark Grayson, with his toothy grin and honey eyes that sucked you right in. Now you may never see those things again.
Retinitis Pigmentosa. Genetic. Non-fatal, but incurable. Most people don’t completely lose their vision, but there the chances of total blindness is non-zero.
The ride home from the hospital was unbearable. Your dad cracked a few lame dad jokes every now and then, but you saw how his finger tapped the steering wheel every time he stopped the car for a red light. Your mom looked like she was going to break down at any moment. But she stayed quiet, tense, but quiet and unable to look at you. The air was awkward and the tension gnawed at your nerves. No one cried.
As soon as the car reached the garage, you made a hasty exit, spouting something about meeting with Mark for a special movie premiere, then ran straight for the Graysons’ home.
Lucky for you, your friend answered the door. You didn’t have to worry about breaking down in front of an adult.
“Wanna go to the park?” You tried to play it cool.
Mark cocked an eyebrow at you. It was already sunset. But he knew you long enough to notice your stiff shoulders, that expression in your face that looked like one wrong word would make you fall to your knees, sobbing.
So he kept the questions to himself, stepped out and closed the door behind him.
Now here you two were. Two kids in a mostly empty playground meant for much younger children. At least the swingset chairs were big enough for you.
“So…” Mark started after ten minutes of silence, “any special news you wanna tell me or did you just really miss the park?”
You stared at the overgrown grass, the tall trees Mark loved to climb, the colorful picnic tables lined next to each other. Without turning to him, you finally spoke, “We just got back from the doctor.”
Mark stomped the heels of his yellow sneakers to stop the momentum of his swing. His eyes were wide. “You’re not–”
“I’m not dying,” you cut him off. “But I am sick.”
He didn’t say anything.
“I won’t be able to see much at night, my vision won’t be… it will take a lot of effort to adapt to what I have right now. Oh, and cherry on the sundae? I could go blind, like actually blind.” You bent your elbows on your knees. “Doctor said it’s going to be slow, which I don’t know how to feel about.”
Mark was silent, trying to think. It was hard to understand for someone so young. Kids and teenagers are prone to feeling immortal, untouchable, and they can’t wrap their heads around the concept of disease, especially when it’s not affecting them directly.
But then you hid your face in your hands. Your entire body shook with each sob as he heard you cry out to a God who failed you.
And Mark understood.
His fingers gripped tightly around the metal chains of the swing. He didn’t know how to comfort you right now. Should he hug you? Pat your back?
But he couldn’t bring himself to do those things. Not now.
Instead he made a promise.
“Y-you said it won’t be an instant thing, right?”
Vaguely, he saw you nod your head.
“That’s great then! W-we can make as many memories as we can before the worst case happens.”
You wiped your tears and looked at him. “What do you mean?”
“Make a list of all the things you want to see and experience, that way we can see all of them before… before you know.”
You gave him a small smile and leaned over to kiss his cheek.
He was taught that humans are weaker than his kind, but it was only after hearing about your disease did he understand. You’re weak. Delicate. Vulnerable. Getting his powers certainly didn’t help. You are too delicate. You can’t be left alone for too long. When he has a job that requires leaving for a planet that is lightyears away he takes you with him. But if it’s safer to keep you inside your home then there will be soldiers guarding every corner and servants answering your every beck and call. He doesn’t trust others to look after you, but he trusts your human body even less, it has already failed you.
VILTRUMITE, flaxan, target
This is perfect! This way you’re all his. Sure, he feels bad that you lost something precious, but that’s why he is here–to fill the void. Mark makes you depend on him, makes it so that you cannot live in a world where he is not by your side. He scares away all your friends, isolates you from your family, convinces you that they’re tired of you, that you are too much work. But he’s here, he will protect you, provide for you, and keep you happy. And you are happy, or at the very least, satisfied. So you don’t ask him about what’s happening outside the home he built just for you. You pretend that you don’t notice how your devices cannot access the news anymore, or call anyone who wasn’t Mark. You no longer pester him for the cure that he promised you years ago. He is your everything now.
full mask, maskless, SINISTER, no goggles, prisoner
He is understanding and kind, but he doesn’t treat you like you’re broken. He makes occasional blind jokes because he knows you can take it, that laughing at yourself and your situation helps. He is perfect. Too perfect for a Mark. Truth is that he is scared shitless of everything. One false move and he can lose you forever, not just to some idiot rebel or monster of the week, but to something as stupid as a wet floor. He’s not just concerned about your physical health but also your mental wellbeing. So he hires actors and builds a paradise on a different planet, an illusion of what you thought Earth is like, what Earth used to be. He doesn’t need shapeshifters, only aliens who speak human language and human slaves who want to be free from hard labor.
