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#THAT IS TO SAY do not assume malice out of this or make this into something it very much is not.
cayde6feetunder · 20 days
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tfw you agree fully with OP but they push the complains about terms like tme/tma as being ~ transmascs complaining they’re being labelled as tme ~ like terms like tme/tma aren’t disgustingly intersexist and while there are some people who do complain because they’re being labeled “tme” (I may not have ever seen this ever but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a possibility it happens) I and many others don’t fuck with it because it’s fucking intersexist and trying to dismiss that as an actual real issue with the terminology is dishonest. Get real.
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liquidstar · 2 months
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a friend who'd wait :)
#im posting this very late because i was sort of weary of how it came out and ended up messing w it until it was like 4am oops.#and i have plans tmrw so... oh well! i did my best and ill put it out while i can!#and i tried to make the scene match barnard's colors lol#finn's ocs#finn's art#i know i said id do more sillay stuff with the simpler screentone only style but i had a couple more of these in me#and this is the first piece im making thats like an actual part of the story too rather than just setting stuff for fun#i wanna write something to go with it too but for now ill just sort of briefly explain the context in the tags here:#barnard has a pretty bad case of OCD and his compulsions have made it difficult to make friends in the past#he was never outright bullied or anything but people just didnt really have the patience to deal with it#he has compulsions that include stuff like walking through doors until it feels right and needing things to be perfectly aligned#which in group settings has lead to people having to wait for him to finish his rituals and join them#they might find it tolerable at first but eventually they grow impatient and hes just... not invited to stuff anymore#but juno is a newer member of the guild who ends up frequenting the same library. hes also kinda a little weird#and they dont become fast friends or anything but just sort of naturally spend time in the same place#though they never plan meetups they eventually fall into a routine. around the same time theyd just both be at the library#and read next to each other. and maybe talk a bit. and eventually they end up walking back to the guildhall together#since theyre going to the same place after all. and juno always waits for barnard outside the door#eventually barnard asks if this bothers him. juno kinda just tells him 'of course it does' without any malice or anything. just a statement#barnard is surprised and apologizes and juno says not to. but the next day juno doesnt show up at the usual time.#barnard assumes hes committed somekinda more by bringing it up. he ends up staying there late reading to get his mind off it & not ruminate#but when he leaves juno is in fact still waiting for him down the hall (see pic) having collected a bunch of books literally abt ocd#he fell asleep bc barnard stayed later than expected. and hes an eepy guy generally. and also one very bad at expressing himself#but now barnard gets that juno's 'of course it [bothers me]' had the implication of 'but its worth it' which no friend has previously done.#and from the interaction juno was also able to understand that this isn't something barnard just does for the hell of it so. he studies.#and checks a bunch of stuff out because he thinks it could help his friend too (theres ocd workbooks and such- i remember working w them)#and thats the point where they became more ''friends'' than ''pleasant library acquaintances''#from there on they also do get into juno's problems. whole other bag of worms. but this specific scene is more about bernard from his pov#sorry about when i said briefly explain. i lied </3#but compared to the whole sequence im picturing its brief so shhh
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abstractlesbian · 4 months
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Find someone slightly annoying but in really small harmless ways so I decide none of the behaviours are worth bringing up with them → realizing: hey, Im also annoying! solidarity! → realizing we have a lot in common and starting to bond → finding out other people find this person annoying and are vocal about it behind their back → finding out this person has ADHD like me that's (at least one reason) why we have all these traits in common → fear.
#trying to be as vague as possible even tho this is someone I know offline and no one involved follows me online#on one level I get it that relying someone who is forgetful and does things slower/differently than you can be frustrating#but like its a medical condition. and u dont need to know someones medical info to have some empathy instead of assuming malice/incompetence#i just found out they have adhd today but day one i was able to go 'wow i did not like the way they handled that but i dont think they were#being hurtful/careless we just handle this task differently. rhey didnt do anything wrong and i can let this go and adjust my expectations'#not to say im perfect and never ableist towards others. my first reaction to seeing traits i dislike in myself (from my disabilities)#in others is often to get annoyed and needing to adjust my thinking#i get annoyed with myself when I cant focus / cant be coherent or concise / cant finish tasks quickly etc#→ get annoyed sometimes when I see others doing that → realize thats not fair to them → realize thats not fair to myself#→ assume good intentions and find ways to communicate/collaborate better with them → get along better and maybe make a new friend!#sorry i am rambling#idk its scary seeing someone being disliked for adhd symptoms/traits that im mostly doing a good job of managing/hiding in this#social environment so far and knowing that could happen to me in the future#but im also like ready to have this persons back#me 🤝 them: prioritizing the wrong tasks and overexplaining things and struglging to get our points across#and not noticing when we talk too loud and forgetting tasks halfway thru etc#not to be that guy but : without love it canmot be seen!!!!#lifes so much better if u just assume ppl arent doing things a certain way to be annoying + let go of / adapt to the thing that are annoying#but not harmful#thats not exactly what without love it cant be seen means but thats one of the ways i apply it in life#just like dont assume malice. assume u dont have all the info. approach ppl/situations with empathy.#or youll make yourself more miserable needlessly#again like only for shit that's not harmful obv#i need to shut up and go to bed
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silasbug · 6 months
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my mother called me träge, and she's right.
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alastors-antlers · 3 months
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a brief take on the whole "Alastor's smile is permanent" discussion
hello all!
I've seen a lot of people theorizing lately that Alastor actually smiles all the time because his smile is magically, physically fixed onto his face. All of this seems to come from the fact that he's practically grimacing rather than smiling during the scene where he breaks down in ep8:
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As well as this frame of his deal with Charlie: (lower res sorry)
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I will say, I do like some of the implications of this theory. The sheer spite of his creditor forcing him to smile as an addition to their deal, almost like a sort of forced silence, is a neat concept. It's fun and dramatic. Plus, of all things, of course Alastor would claim the "smile at all times" policy and make it his own to pretend that it was his decision all along lol.
To be fair, though, I don't think we even need any magical compulsion to explain why he's smiling while he's having a mental breakdown. Actually, if we assume magical compulsion, I think we lose a bit of dimension from Alastor's character. (No judgement to anyone's take though, of course -- I just think this works in the direction of his established characterization, but obviously all personal takes <3)
Hear me out:
Alastor's persona is not just for others to see.
"A smile is a valuable tool, my dear. It inspires your friends; keeps your enemies guessing; and ensures that whatever comes your way, you're the one in control."
That makes sense given what we know about him. If he's always smiling, he seems like he has it together. You can't read him very well, especially not when he's actively trying to keep up appearances.
Now consider that when you think about ep8's fight with Heaven, we see that he's already been through so much in this one day.
He fights an army of angels, presumably not even at his own whim (if we go by his blurb about freedom in the Finale song); he loses to Adam, who he considers sloppy and mediocre; his staff, which we can assume holds some part of his power, is snapped; he comes close to being Angelic-power-killed; and to top it all off, he knows that others watched him get injured and then apparently die or flee, all of which would ruin the public image that he's trying to maintain. It wouldn't even be unreasonable for us to assume that he knows Vox was watching, given that Vox kind of has eyes everywhere.
In a moment like this, in the finale, you could say that Alastor has lost (at least on some level) everything that we know matters to him. He doesn't have access to all of his magic, and it's limiting him. He's reminded that he doesn't have freedom or control over his own destiny. He certainly has taken massive hits to his powerful, composed persona. But he's desperate, and furious, and terrified, and clinging on.
That's why he's smiling.
It's not that he can't stop because he physically can't. It's that he can't stop because to him, the smile is the last thing that is still within his power. When there are so many moving parts that he can't predict what happens to him next, he can control how he responds to it. In these last fragments of autonomy, there is solace.
He needs to keep telling himself that he has it together and that he'll eventually scheme his way free, that there's a solution, that he won't be in chains forever; because letting his pretense slip would be admitting that it's all starting to actually get to him. That maybe this time, he doesn't have an escape plan.
In addition, if you read his interactions throughout the series, we also see something else: Alastor's reputation is of paramount importance to him. At multiple points throughout the series, when others disrespect him by discounting his power or presence, he gets visibly annoyed. And in the battle, we see a glimpse of the part of his personality he seems to be trying to leave behind - a normal Alastor, who's just some guy from Louisiana. No transatlantic accent; no unflappable malice; no sharp wit waiting at the ready. Maybe even unremarkable.
Dropping his smile - arguably the most prominent part of his brand - would be admitting that in reality, he's not the Radio Demon of legend that he aspires to project. And if he doesn't have that... where would he be?
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foldingfittedsheets · 2 months
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We had the most egregiously evil little pony horse when I was growing up. I know everyone says that. Ponies are one of the animals that truly understand how to commit crimes but she was really deeply atrocious. One time she tried to murder me. Her name was Fancy.
I feel I should slightly explain here. See, my parents bought two acres with a house and a barn and pasturage and went “We’re farmers now!” They had absolutely no idea what they were doing. And at a certain point along that journey my mom got her hands on a horse. Technically she was half pony half horse so she was this weird middle size.
Fancy belonged to a friend of hers and he showed her how to saddle Fancy. And that was it. That was all we knew about this horse. So my mom brings her home and saddles her and we decide to go for a ride on this new creature in our lives. But Fancy, being the savvy bitch she was, was far too canny for our dumb asses.
Her maiden ride went to my older brother and ended rather abruptly when the saddle slid completely sideways and my brother toppled off her, miraculously unharmed but unwilling to ever try again. This made me like Fancy somewhat, because I hated my brother.
Those familiar with horse trickery would have caught her ruse but Fancy had deliberately held her breath to make the saddle seem tight enough. But in stride she let the breath out, the saddle loosened, and my brother came toppling down. She planned that fuckup.
I was a bit more game, being a dedicated horse girl. I wanted to succeed where my loathsome brother had failed. Keep in mind: none of us had ever ridden. We had no idea what we were doing, and in the only defense I’ll ever make of that hoofed demon it was probably not pleasant to have a human flopping on her back like a sack of potatoes. But I paraded around in a circle until she scraped my leg against a fence post. I lasted longer than my brother but had to admit riding an animal radiating malice at you is not comfortable.
We didn’t really ride Fancy much after that. She was a decorative aspect to the fields. Sometimes I’d sit on her bare back while she was eating. Every so often she’d buck me off for assuming familiarity with her.
But Fany's coup de grâce took several months. Most of the pasturage had electric fence running along it to keep the livestock from testing the fences or getting a taste for freedom. My parents were constantly moving fence posts and reallocating land to different purposes which is how one of the major gates ended up with electric fence running over top. During a move the wire got left up from the last border and now it was strung over what should have been an open passage.
I was taking a ride on Fancy, living in a fantasy that I had any idea what I was doing. My mom was out working in the yard, and as she passed through she left the gate open, forgetting the wire hazard. You know who didn't forget?
Fancy.
She beelined for the open gate and I realized a second too late what her plan was. I hauled back on the reins with all my strength but she powered through, charging at the wire. If I'd caught on sooner I could have tipped forward and probably cleared it.
It was roughly chest height. But she was too savvy, keeping a slow pace right up until the passage, and I didn't have time to react. The thought of getting electrocuted sent me down into a terrified backward limbo, desperately trying to flatten myself along her back.
It almost worked. But instead the wire caught under my chin, pressing back into my neck like a garrote. The only good news was that the wire wasn't live, but I was still in terrible danger. I squealed and wiggled and managed to twist my neck enough that the wire scraped over my face instead of pressing deeper. Once we were through Fancy stopped and turned to regard me, disappointed that her assassination had failed. My neck was bleeding but my head remained attached.
My mother was absolutely terrified and I was pretty shaken myself. We unsaddled Fancy for the last time, as full on murder was a bit more than I was willing to bear for the sake of pretending to be a fantasy hero on an epic journey. My neck still has a faint scar from her homicidal tendencies.
Fancy got to remain a decorative horse for many years after that, free of our attempts to ride her. Her last torment was when my mother decided to try to breed her to achieve an animal that was less interested in murder.
But Fancy, true to form, brutally attacked the stallion sent to service her, even when hopped up on horny hormones. There would be no foals from Fancy, and her saga ended when we sold her to another unlucky soul.
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There is love in me, I swear (tell me there's something in you, too)
let me wrap my teeth around the world - series masterlist here
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pairing: poly marauders x reader (gender neutral)
length: 1.3k
genre: fluff, hurt/comfort
warnings: slytherin reader, they're all big partiers, reader has a bad attitude but in a nice lovable way
a/n: I warned everyone that I would be posting for someone new and now you all must suffer the consequences xoxo but also do please be nice abt it I beg
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There's always an air of confidence amongst the three of them, the way they lounge on one of the larger couches in the Gryffindor common room, legs overlapping and shoulders pushed up against one another. They're completely at ease, your brain supplies as you step up to them, and you remember vaguely that people have said the same about you more times than you can count.
There's none of that from you now, though, as you perch on the armrest and look down at James's beaming smile.
"Hey lovely, what brings you here?" The way he lets an arm grip your waist is natural, pulling you closer so that your hip is against his shoulder.
"Finally needed to come up for air? Snake pit getting to be a bit much, hm?" Sirius's tone holds no real malice and neither does the glare you shoot him or Remus's chiding look. 
"Came up here for some peace and quiet. Guess I'm not getting that, though," you shoot back good-naturedly, a hand running through James's hair as he begins to let his thumb rub circles on your hip where his arm is anchored around you.
"You, uh, came up to the Gryffindor common room for peace and quiet, love?" says Remus, amusement tinting his voice. You let your bottom lip jut out slightly in response.
"Desperate times. They're getting ready to throw another rager tonight and I'm just too tired for that," you say, a long sigh leaving your lips as you speak. James pauses his soothing hands to pull away from you enough to look up at your face, his brows furrowed and eyes big in that worried way of his. Remus and Sirius have perked up as well, and you find yourself sitting straighter at the attention.
"...You feeling alright, sweet thing?" Sirius asks. Your mouth falls open in shock.
"I'm not - I'm not that much of an alcoholic. I don't need to go to every party - you three aren't there, either." You look back and forth between the three focused gazes.
"Yea, but… what's a Slytherin party without you there? That's like - there wouldn't be a Gryffindor party without us." James points out. You arch a brow at him.
"Maybe you three just think too highly of yourselves," you respond dryly. Sirius barks out a laugh from where he's lying across Remus' lap and James makes a big show of pretending to be offended.
"Wasn't it you who called us Gryffindor's golden boys last week, dove?" Remus points out, a smile stretching across his face. You glare back.
"Alright, you can all shut up now. I didn't come up here to be accosted." You say haughtily, but Remus's smile doesn't falter and Sirius coos at you the way you assume he'd coo at something rather small and fluffy. You sniff indignantly and plant yourself more firmly on the armrest while James makes some gentle attempts to pull you down onto the couch next to him.
"Come on, lovely," James tries to coax you. You look down at him indignantly. "You can relax. It's just us," he prompts, smoothing a hand over your back. You shoot him another withering glare and, when met by nothing but his beaming smile, let your stubbornness slacken just enough that he can haul you up off the armrest, manhandling him so that you're suddenly squished on the couch between him and Remus, Sirius still lounging on his lap.
Remus puts an arm around you, the weight familiar as it falls over your shoulders and you begin to slump into it despite your stubbornness. 
"Aw, your ice melts so fast for us, baby," Sirius teases, leaning to poke your cheek gently with his forefinger. 
"I'll break that finger, Black," you shoot back, but there's no fight left in your voice. Sirius just laughs, leaning even more to press a kiss to your cheek, instead. You deflate a bit more, relaxing into the cushions and the heat of James pressed against you. He visibly sweetens at that, leaning towards you to press his own kisses up and down the side of your neck as Remus's fingers tangle with the hair at the nape of your neck, massaging slightly. 
"Alright, alright," you murmur, voice breathy as you squirm under the attention. Remus eases up, his arm wrapping around your shoulders once more to let you relax against him, James pulling back to look at you fondly. 
"Sorry, lovely," he flashes another smile. "Don't mean to overwhelm you."
"I'm fine," you say stubbornly. Sirius giggles in a way that you're sure means he doesn't believe you, and the faces of the other two reflect that sentiment. They let the silence hang, though, letting you gather your bearings.
"It's not fair," is all you finally say, in a voice too small to be your own. "I always know exactly what I'm doing and what I'm saying and what I'm feeling - until you three show up. Then I don't - I don't know." No one responds immediately and you wince internally, as you're sure it's so that they can all choose their words carefully. Like you're some kind of timebomb, your mind prompts you. Like they're waiting for you to just explode.
"I do," Sirius supplies, his voice carrying a sombre air that it doesn't typically. "I know what you mean, love."
"No you don't," you murmur petulantly, but he takes it good-naturedly, his face softening with nothing but love. The other two stay quiet - it's like they've suddenly stepped into a private conversation, even though they've been there the whole time.
"Sometimes," Sirius begins carefully. Tick, tick, tick, your mind reminds you. You bite your lip at your own perceived volatility. "When we're not loved the way we should be, it just takes a while to get used to suddenly having it. I… I do know how that feels, love." Your shoulders tighten at his words, something that feels almost like guilt burning in the back of your throat.
"I'm sorry, Sirius - I didn't mean -"
"Don't apologize. There's nothing to forgive. You haven't done anything wrong here. You aren't doing anything wrong with us." You bite your lips harder at Siriuis' words, his gentleness, tasting a hint of copper in your mouth when you bite too hard. Remus steps in at this, clicking his tongue in that gentle, reprimanding way that you recognize as he uses his thumb to smooth over your lip.
"We love you," James reminds softly, his hand finding a home on your thigh, fingers pressing into your skin ever so slightly as he holds onto you firmly. "Never-ending bad mood and all." You open your mouth to snipe back but close it again quickly when you see the humour in James' eyes. "Sirius is the biggest drama queen alive and we still love him," James continues. Sirius makes an indignant, wounded sort of noise that goes ignored. 
"Well… that's alright, I suppose," you huff, your arms crossed as you sit sullenly. James coos at you in a way that you should hate as Remus slides one hand against your cheek, guiding you to look at him so that he can pass a long kiss to your lips. You make an embarrassingly needy sound somewhere in the back of your throat and grip onto the front of his shirt, but the only evidence that Remus has noticed is the way he smiles against you. That and Sirius's jealous huff as he watches, unsure of which place he'd rather be in.
The three of you settle in as you and Remus part, him smiling lazily and thumbing over your lips. You press a quick, delicate kiss to the pad of his thumb before letting yourself relax fully into the couch, the silence that blankets the three of you forming a soft, comforting sort of thing.
"So…" Sirius begins. "You're really not going to go down to the party? At all?" You sigh and tilt your head back to stare at the ceiling.
"Yea, alright, we should go. Come on."
"Knew you couldn't stay away."
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quitesins · 5 months
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Boxer! Bakugou x Sports Journalist! Reader
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Masterlist
Tags: Sfw, drabble, aged up bakugou, boxer! bkg, sports journalist! reader, female reader, ooc bakugou? Maybe? Dialogue heavy, I’ve had this in my drafts since feb, idk anything about boxing btw
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“They say you’re a prodigy, Mr. Bakugou but do you think you can keep up with those who’ve been fighting for years?”
Bakugou Katsuki, The Dynamight.
It’s testy to ask a question like that. You’ve watched his other interviews- he’s volatile, quick to anger. So you’re surprised when he looks you over, and smirks.
“You doubtin’ me?” There’s amusement in his voice. He thinks you’re nervous, he’s already disregarded you as a threat.
“No.” You sit up a little straighter. “But you have been uncharacteristically quiet about your training recently. One can only assume why.”
Bakugou lets out a bark of laughter, it’s not one you haven’t heard before but it’s still rare, feeling almost exclusive to the journalists he really doesn’t respect.
“And you’re suspecting it’s because I have nothing to show? Hah!”
You have to force your eyebrows back up, your lips to still curve.
“If not, what else? Aren’t you a little too confident” You pause. “Izuku Midoriya is also force to beat, but even he isn’t so cocksure.”
The crowd around you hushes. No one dares mentions that name. Bakugou grits his teeth, while you smile with yours prettily. It’s a low blow, bringing up his rival, but you’re not here to play nice either.
Bakugou takes a second, then replies. “That nerd would tremble over a baby.” His arm comes out to rest on the seat beside him, and he leans back casually. “His progress has nothing to do with me. I know my skill. I don’t need to be worried.”
It ticks you off how quick he is at regaining the upper hand, like confidence runs through his veins.
Though he looks unperturbed, his team ushers another journalist to the mic, and you have to step back at last. But even as you sink back into the crowd, head lowered, scribbling away at your notes, a pair of red eyes follow you, with intensity you’d be glad not to notice.
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You’re waiting in the cold, under a darkening sky, just outside the hall, when a warmth emerges on your left side. It’s him. The Dynamight. And you jump back startled.
He stands there, clearly entertained by the fact you hadn’t noticed him and then by little gasp when you do.
“Mr Bakugou.” You’re curt, not particularly interested in getting into an argument, expecting that was what he was here for.
“Bakugou’s fine.” His shoulder nudges yours, for a second you think it’s a threat, but the foreign softness of his voice makes you realise otherwise. He’s trying to be… friendly? For what reason, it’s beyond you.
“Bakugou.” You don’t open up, but you don’t shy away either. He seems to take that as a win. “Shouldn’t you be inside, I’m sure everyone is clamouring for your attention.”
He snorts, it’s similar to his laugh during the interviews, but this time you can tell it isn’t taunting. You feel a bit guilty for assuming it had come with malice earlier.
“You’re not one bit scared of me are ya?”
“Should I be?”
Maybe he genuinely enjoys the back and fourth, because he really laughs at that. “Nah, you’d probably write a hit piece on me.”
“I- What?” When his words sink in you fluster at his claim. “No I wouldn’t? What?!”
“I read that article you did on Dabi.” Bakugou raises- without accusation. “The fucker deserved it.”
“It wasn’t like that!” It wasnt. It’s not your fault the famous boxer Dabi— Touya Todoroki had turned out to be former world champion, Endeavour’s son. You weren’t trying to expose any nepotism. It just happened to be. “It’s my job!!”
For a moment, Bakugou thinks you look like a scolded child, trying to defend yourself from the heinous allegation of stealing from the cookie jar.
“Relax. I know.” Bakugou nudges your shoulder again. “It’s why I want you to come interview my gym.”
“What?”
“My gym, Jeanist, Red, the whole lot.” He lists. “I don’t trust any other extra to do it. Either suck ups or fuckin’ liars.”
“And you think I’d be the inbetween?” You eye him warily, you don’t trust his trust.
“Yeah.” He ignores your skepticism. “Plus, it’d be nice to have a pretty girl around for a change.”
Now that’s what gets you speechless. Despite the increasing attempts of gossip mags trying to speculate about the annoyingly handsome Dynamight’s love life, he’d never actually been caught in a dating scandal. Honestly it seemed like the man was far too focussed on himself to have interest in anyone at all.
“That shut you up, huh?”
You’re actually glad he teases, because it reminds you not to fall for whatever charm he’d conjured up. You give him a frown but somewhere in your chest, it feels oddly warm.
“Think about it.” He steps back. “I’ll tell you now, best fuckin’ article you’ll ever write.” He nods over to a car you hadn’t noticed pull up.
It’s your cab, and it’s mildly embarrassing to realise how concentrated you’d been on him. He goes to take his leave and you turn to enter the car. Neither of you say goodbye, you just look away with faint smiles on your faces.
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I had the beginning of dis just floating about in ma drafts since feb, finally added to it so why not post, also yes this is a call to watch Ippo. Miyata my beloved…
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lustlovehart · 2 months
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Caught In Her Web
A/n: I love women
Summary: [Yandere] Dinner never seems to go right with Kafka
Warnings: Toxic date, memory erasure, unwanted touching, unconscious kiss
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———
Her gloved fingers tap against the wooden table, every sound only increasing the tension through the room.
"Hm? Oh, don't look at me like that, I'm not gonna eat you dear."
At this rate, you wouldn't doubt if she did take a bite out of you.
"Kafka, quit this, what do you need from me this time?"
"Don't be so heartless [Name], maybe I just wanted to have dinner with my favorite person through the universe's."
"Cut it out."
"I'm not messing with you," her leather covered hands slowly make their way into your own, both palms caging your own in hers as she makes heavy contact into your soul. "Let's just eat shall we?"
You don't reply, only looking hesitantly at your hand covered by her malice.
You knew of the existence of scripts, she never hid information from you. Whatever information she did withhold probably would’ve been stuff you wouldn’t wanna know anyway.
The food laid between you two, the steam floating off it being very visible, yet Kafkas eyes completely overshadow them, rather than being drawn to the appetizers your focus is entirely on her, you don't look into her eyes, but just staring at her gloved hands is enough.
She has that effect on people you assume.
Her left hand plays with your arm, the digits of her limb playful crawling up your skin until they catch onto your chin, forcing you to finally look at her.
"You know darling, it's common coutersy to look at someone when you talk to them is it not?"
"I'm not gonna look at you."
Her fingers quickly release you from her hold, a playful 'hm' leaving her lips as she takes a fork and, somehow, makes stabbing a steak look both violent and elegant at the same time.
"Fine, be that way, the least you could do is let me feed you."
"I doubt you'd give me a choice."
"Hm, you're smart, good," the knife cuts through the meat, her utensil slowly lifting it to your mouth, her lips telling you to say 'ahh'. "Be careful dear, it's hot."
You don't give her the satisfaction of listening to her, despite the heat of the food radiating off of it, you don't blow. You'd rather burn your tongue than make this criminal happy with you.
You were right, your mouth is in so much pain. You try to keep your face neutral, but you can't help letting a little of the pain escape.
"See, I told you it was hot. I just praised you too."
You swallowed, it hurt like hell, but you swallowed. You're sure if it wasn't boiling it would've been delicious, but what's done is done.
"Try to at least enjoy our dinner, this will be the last time I see you for a while"
"Hm, maybe you're right, that does sound like something to celebrate."
"Oh, so you're only witty when it comes to remarks against me?"
"Was that not obvious?"
"You wound me [Name]" she looked down at the food again, instead of giving you more she only sighs and pushes the plate to the side. "Seems the dinner plans fell through. That's okay, Elio saw it coming."
"So even your 'heartfelt' dinner was apart of the script."
"Not all of it, we were just meant to sit at table filled with food, that wasn't apart of the plan."
"So you decided toying with me would be funner?"
"Playing with anyone is enjoyable to me, it's just nicer when it's you." She smiles after her words. Just that, a closed lip smile at you.
You look at the clock she had set up, it felt more like a countdown than a way to keep track of time. 3 hours left, that's too long for you.
"What, so you added your flirtations into this dinner?"
The more you think, 3 hours left till what?
"Hm, I did, is there problem? I don't think I hide my liking towards you."
Your brain can't remember what it was you were waiting for. It's like the memory of what waited for you at the end wasn't there anymore.
"You don't, but I wish you did."
Keep... Date... As long... Possible...
She leans across the table, her lips ghosting over your earlobe, a deep laugh escaping from her throat.
"How will I express my adoration for you then?" Her whisper came out teasing, yet if you looked past that, you can hear her underlying annoyance slip through the cracks. "Perhaps lock you in a golden cage like an innocent bird? Or should I do like a spider and trap you in my web." You sit still, not daring to move.
"Jokes of course, though, I would like for you to stay with me."
Feint words of broken memories invade your head, beating like some painful headache.
"Once this is over, you'll be different. It's sad I won't be able to keep the [Name] I cherish, but it's the price we have to pay for the script. These last moments will be what I'll have left of you, so I hope we can enjoy it together.
The whispers felt familiar, like you've been through it before. Spirit Whsiperer...
"Now, can we please enjoy this last meal of peace before it changes ?"
Your hands grab onto her as you push her to her side of the table. Your breaths were heavy once you remembered the situation the damned clock. Looking back at the time, how could time go by so quickly?
1 hour left.
"Don't try using that shit on me Kafka. It was 3 hours left 10 minutes ago how the hell could that be."
"That's the [Name] I like to see." She doesn't answer you, not a single question. While you frantically shake her.
"I told you myelf, I really do enjoy messing with you." Her hands aren't gloved anymore. The leather long being discarded, her fingers slowly reach up to your cheek pulling you closer to her face.
Her fingers are cold, like a corpse. You don't shiver though. Her touch is the most undisturbing part about her. It's what makes her so horrifying.
"Times up dear." Her thumb ghosts over your lips, gently placing her digit on you. She stand up from her seat, being eye to eye to yourself, her other hand placing itself on your waist, seemingly pulling you closer.
"Boom."
Your vision blacks as your head falls forward, the last thing you remember being the soft feeling of your face resting on her shoulder. Ice cold fingers are left stroking your head as the sound of a door opens.
"At the end of the day," Though you're out cold, deep down she wishes you can feel the way her freezing lips place a chaste kiss on your own. "I'm a selfish woman."
------
A dim light is all your blurred vision can see, the sound of a feint hum ringing through the empty space as well. Your head is rested on what feels to be someone's thighs, whoever it is must be the one rubbing circles into your chest, more specifically, the area where a heart would be.
It's not beating. Your hearts not working.
"You're awake." Your eyes clear as you look up at the woman smiling from above. She's beautiful.
She's familar.
"Do you remember me?"
"..."
She waits.
"Do you like me?"
“I…”
She doesn’t say anymore, only tracing patterns into your skin as she waits, that unwavering smile still on her face. The lights grow darker. You don’t hear a throbbing in your ears, something someone with a heart would hear in distress. You don’t have that anymore. Well, maybe not anymore, you can’t remember if you ever did have one.
“Who are you?”
——
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thatanimeramenchick · 2 months
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Yandere! Lucifer visits the Hazbin Hotel because his daughter called him, but there he meets a human! Innocent! reader and Yandere! Alastor... Where the two of them start fighting over the reader...
Yandere Alastor vs Lucifer and Human Reader
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Ha ha ha, I live for the chaos that this would be.
---
“You mean, she’s alive? Not an official sinner?” Lucifer asked.
“Yep,” said Charlie, “Um… we’re not quite sure how she got down here, to be perfectly honest, but she definitely doesn’t fit the sinner criteria in looks or attitude.”
You hesitate before you give a small curtsy to the king of hell. You weren’t sure if the act was going to count against you when you actually died for real, but who knows, maybe he’d be as nice as Charlie was? Either way, Charlie was a good girl, and you wanted to help her out. Surely no one could blame you for being kind to someone, even if that someone is the King of Hell himself.
“Nice to meet you, your highness,” you say, voice timid.
“It’s been such a long time since I’ve seen a… living human,” Lucifer said, circling you, as if you were a rare exotic animal, “It’s been decades. Centuries even. And you don’t know how you got down here?”
“No, your highness,” you said, “I really don’t know what happened. I-I just ended up here somehow.”
“And no way to get back home either, I’m assuming?” he said, “How odd. Must find it terrifying down here, not to mention dangerous.”
Charlies chuckles a little, but you see a certain nervousness in her eyes. Your safety had been the talk of many stressful meetings.
“We do keep her as secure as we can,” she said, “Considering she’s so vulnerable down here she stays in the hotel pretty much all the time.”
“Ah, yes,” said Alastor, who seemed to be butting into every conversation poor Charlie was trying to hold with her father, “This little lady here, I assure you, she is under the strict protection of the hotel. The very best, as I tend to her safety personally.”
He wrapped his arms around your shoulders as he said it, pulling you closer to him. The touch startled you, as he wasn’t one for physical affection. In all honesty, you don’t recall him ever touching you in any way ever other than the brief handshake you had shared on meeting. You tense a little at the unexpected contact.
Lucifer’s eyes turn to Alastor and narrow. He looks at him like one would look at a spider crawling on the wall. A chill runs through you with the amount of malice in his eyes.
“… I’m sure you do,” he finally said.
His eyes return to you, a hint of curiosity in them, most of the malice gone.
“But! I’d be more than happy to assist in this matter,” he continued, “I’m not sure if there is anything we really can do as far as sending you back up to earth, but I can do my best to make sure you stay safe. Demons are fine and dandy, but there’s nothing like a royal seal of protection. You haven't made a deal, have you?”
As you shake your head, Alastor’s grip tightens, making your shoulder ache. You worry he’s going to claw through your blouse and into your skin if he’s not careful.
Saying you were uncomfortable would be the understatement of the year.
Lucifer Morningstar
Lucifer would have a clear upper hand in this situation, and oh, the nostalgia you would bring! He’s had plenty of experience getting innocent, naive human women to warm up to him, both in the romantic department and outside of it. While he is a bit out of practice, if he actually tried, I could see him using all of his experience, charm, and knowledge to seduce a shy girl out of her shell.
If you’re still a living human, he’s going to be quite protective of you. You want to leave the hotel? Have you gone straight mad? Honestly, if he had it his way, Charlie wouldn’t let you out of your bedroom with those nasty sinners crawling around the hotel. Do you want to end up as corrupt and filthy as the rest of hell? Perhaps he can talk to Charlie and convince her that you need to be taken somewhere more… secure.
Once he finally moves into the hotel, the real battle is going to begin. He'll be seeing you regularly and therefore make it impossible for him to push you out of his mind. And he has to put up with Alastor's antics now on a daily basis.
While he'd like to think he's levelheaded and mature, I can see arguments with Alastor quickly spinning out of control and getting very personal and very nasty fast. The only thing holding him back from just killing him after a certain point is the fact that Charlie likes him as much as she does.
Alastor
Part of me would wonder if he actually even likes you or if he just wants to mess with Lucifer tbh.
All jokes aside, Alastor would be pissed. He knows that Lucifer is more powerful in every sense of the word, and he can’t do a thing about it. Well, at least nothing that really matters. He’s simply going to have to be more charming than Lucifer is, to the point where you prefer him.
He’s going to pull out all the stops of being a suave southern gentleman. While Lucifer will try to wow you with bombastic displays that only he can provide, Alastor will offer himself as the sweet, traditional lover that has your back. He's a distinguished romantic compared to this circus leading clown. At least that's what he'll want you to think. When it comes down to it, Alastor has far less experience than Lucifer with women and romance.
Also I see him as being one of those people who’s like, “Since I know I can’t lift myself up more, I’m dragging this asshole down to my level.” Verbally throws barbs at Lucifer, both to piss him off and to try to make him look worse in your eyes. He’d have a real hayday if he can provoke Lucifer into saying or doing something that scares you.
Even when Lucifer’s not around though, he’s the type to plant ideas in your mind that the king of hell is simply not a good match for you. He’d use his verbal skills to make Lucifer look less attractive in your eyes or to make you feel like it would be unwise to get in a relationship with the literal Devil.
I’d like to think you’d turn them both down, but they’re both too polite towards women to be that forceful with you, so instead they just butt horns for what feels like eternity over who should have you. Clearly it’s the other guys fault that you don’t want him, not yours! Then when you finally die, you go to heaven, leaving them both quite upset about the whole situation.
But if things did get ugly and push came to shove, Lucifer would definitely win. At this point in the game, Alastor doesn't stand a chance. Hope you enjoy solitary confinement!
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kingtomura · 2 months
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Vitality | 2
Summary: You were always told heroes and villains had no place in your home.  Not when there’s an increase in crime, not when there’s monsters on the loose in Hosu and certainly not when the man in your home raises a hand to you. All it takes is one impulsive decision to change your life forever. content: shigaraki tomura x female reader, slow burn, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, reader has a quirk, graphic depictions of violence, past abuse, past sa, angst, pstd, eventual smut, found family LoV, mdni wc: 3.2k | prev | chapter 3 | m. list | read on ao3
There are tunnels under the bar. They wind and they twist and they are very easy to get lost in. 
That’s the point, Shigaraki tells you when you ask about the arrangement the next day. It had been a struggle to keep up with Kurogiri as he led you to your new living quarters for the first time – now you were able to get away with asking him to teleport you there instead. 
But you agree. 
They should be confusing so no one can easily find where you sleep. 
But not only are they confusing, they are dark, dusty and kind of spooky. Like an ancient vampire's lair or something silly like that. The rooms however, are not so creepy. They are oddly normal and have everything you need. 
Your room contains a desk, bed and empty shelves — ready and waiting to be filled with books. 
The sheets were neatly made and there was a small rug near your bed. You assume it's to break up the bland look of the concrete, but it's fine. For some reason it feels safer than what you've had before. 
A bed, desk and a door with a lock. Yeah, much safer.
There isn’t much time to dwell on the interior design of your new room because a knock at your door shakes you from your thoughts. 
It’s a little late at night for a visitor, but you push past the feeling, spouting a firm come in and waiting on the guest to make themselves known.
You have to will your face to stay neutral as Tomura Shigaraki walks into your room, absently closing the door behind him. He’s wearing the hand-mask, but you can still make out the carmine red of his eyes in the dim lighting of your room.
“Sorry for the intrusion,” he starts, voice sounding anything but apologetic, “but there are a few things I need to know.”
You watch as he stands by the door, hands in his pockets as he goes on, wasting no time questioning you. And you should answer him, especially if you are going to be staying here with them, but your mind cannot process whatever it is he’s saying. 
Everything around you seemed to come to a stop as your eyes and focus pinpointed on the closed door behind him. The feeling of being shut in with another person, another man, makes your throat feel dry and your hands shake. 
Shigaraki is watching, waiting for an answer but you’re frozen — stuck as the walls suffocate your words.
He tilts his head, another question ready to be fired off, maybe to ask about your lack of response, but you beat him to it.
“Could you… open the door? Please.” 
It catches him off guard, but his eyes never leave yours. “Why?”
There is no bite to the question, no malice. Just curious. 
“I just don’t like when doors are closed.” You shrug, refusing to meet his gaze. Desperate to keep some of your diffidence inside, “makes me feel claustrophobic.” 
Shigaraki hums, answer seemingly good enough for him as he turns back to open your door, wide enough that you feel comfortable, but still enough to give you privacy. You feel like you can breathe again.
“Like I was saying,” he picks up again, not missing a beat and pulling out your desk chair to take a seat. “I need a little more information. You say that you stumbled upon Giran, but how? What were you doing before?”
There’s an odd feeling in your chest. One of solid dread that weighed more than a thousand pounds. It made your eyes water and your chest tight, but you willed it all away. You would not break down here in front of a man you knew next to nothing about.
You clench your fists and meet his eyes, there was a decision to be made right now. If this place were to house you then you must do what you could to be honest. Not completely, but enough. 
“I… hurt someone. And I ran away before anyone could find me.”
“And who was the unlucky fellow?” His words are light and dripping with a sarcasm that made you feel like you were walking on eggshells.
“It was,” you stall, pondering if giving him the information would backfire. You decide that it is not something you should hide. There was no erasing the past. “My father.”
There’s a chill that passes through your body as the words leave your lips. The sticky sweet falsehood of the name makes you nauseous. That man is not your father, but it is all you know him as — and who were you to challenge that? Even without his presence. 
Tomura says nothing for a while, drowning the room in a still quiet so thick you almost think he hadn’t heard you. 
“Is he dead?” He asks, raspy voice finally breaking through the quiet. 
“What?” You ask, confusion lining your features. 
“Did you kill him?”
You shake your head, and it feels like you're in the moment again — shattering glass, splash of blood and then silence. The memory of him laying out on the living room floor, blood beginning to pool under his head sends a shiver down your spine. 
“I don't know.” And it's the truth, he could very well be dead, “and I couldn’t risk sticking around to find out. But I didn't mean to–”
“Can you defend yourself?” Shigaraki doesn't miss a beat, unphased by the possibility of you murdering your father and undeterred by your obvious incoming breakdown. 
You look to the floor, eyes focused on the rug below your bed, its curving patterns and the difference of its color against the gray cement floor. “Why?”
“If he’s not dead, if he looks for you — are you able to fight if it comes down to it?”
You can’t. You know that you can’t. You’ve never been able to hold your own against him and it eats you alive every night. So, reluctantly, you shake your head. “No.”
Tomura watches you, it feels like he’s analyzing you with every passing second. He hums, taking your answer in and standing up. “Alright.”
“That’s it?” You question, thinking there would be more to his questions. You may have killed someone and he doesn’t seem to care. Just who was this guy?
Shigaraki turns back to you, feet stopping just before your door, “Oh, yeah. We’ll get you a phone in the morning. Business only. Also, there’s a meeting tomorrow around three. Try not to be late, I hate when people are tardy.” 
You can only nod, watching as he turns away from you and leaves the room. Silence falls in his absence, a thick and loaded tension as you are left with your thoughts.
The idea of your father still being out there, alive and waiting for you makes you feel restless. Your mind races as you curl up under the sheets that were newly yours and pray sleep finds you sooner rather than later. 
—-----------
The meeting is uneventful.
It was a basic introduction, while discussing the plans and next moves for the League of Villains.
All of it feels surreal. One day you’re home wondering if the hell you lived was all your life had in store for you, and the next day you’re free. 
As free as one can be with a group of villains. 
You notice a few things in your first week amongst this new group you’ve joined. 
The first being that the league can be noisy.
It’s all you can think about as you take your place on a vacant barstool in front of the counter. 
“Would you like something to drink?” Kurogiri wastes no time, glass already prepped and ready, with two cubes of ice waiting. 
You shake your head, politely declining, “No, thank you. Alcohol’s not really my thing.” 
“Understood.” The man responds, shadows flaring around his figure like whips, “we also have nonalcoholic drinks.”
You give him a short sure and he pours you a glass of fizzy, clear soda. 
Shigaraki is a few seats down, nursing a glass of whiskey and reading the obituaries of a newspaper — easily ignoring the commotion behind you both. 
It’s hard to tune out the noise, but you try. You’ve been caught up in your thoughts all day, in the idea of your future. There is no guarantee you will be safe amongst villains, but there is nowhere else for you to go. And then there is your father. 
What really came of him? You’ve searched on the new phone Shigaraki gave you, but there are no news articles and no public meetings. If you really did kill him, if you really are free — just what does that mean for you?
“Bullshit!” 
You turn back to the group playing a game of cards. Spinner is losing against Mr. Compress for what he claims is the third time in a row. 
“C’mon Spinner, it's the rules! No, he’s cheating!” Twice and his two-toned persona calls out. The noise in the room was beginning to rise, bringing your anxiety with it. You can’t focus in here, but you don’t really know your way back to your room. 
Someone slams their hand onto the table and the sound makes you jolt, spilling a bit of your drink onto the table. 
You curse under your breath, grabbing a few napkins and cleaning the area. It’s a decent distraction and with it you try to calm your breathing down. Maybe getting lost in the depths of the hideout wouldn’t be so bad. At least no one would notice your absence. 
But someone would. 
“Hey, now,” Shigaraki starts, not taking his eyes off the newspaper in front of him. “Are you trying to give our location away? Lower your voices.”
And just like that, the tension in the room dissipates — taking your brain fog with it. 
Your shoulders relax and the group is now being subjected to Mr. Compress and his never-ending magic tricks. 
By the time night fell you were more than ready to retire to your room. 
“Kurogiri,” you start, hoping to keep your voice low enough to not draw attention. “If it’s not too much trouble, could you help me to my room again? The tunnels have still got me beat.”
To your surprise, Shigaraki raises a hand to stop Kurogiri's response. “Ah, Kurogiri, she’ll never learn if you just do it for her every time. Let me.” He offers, tone a little too flippant for something that should be an inconvenience. It feels like a trap.
You go to refuse, tell him you really don't need the help and you could probably find your own way, but he stops you — one hand held up and waving you off. You swear you could see the hint of a smile underneath the mask. 
“Don’t worry about it. We want you to feel welcomed here in the league.” He goes to stand and you follow, knowing it’s best to go along with it and not against. 
The walk is quiet and the tunnels are long. 
It's dark and decrepit while the cold air makes goosebumps spread across your skin like wildfire. 
Although, you could probably owe some of your unease to your unlikely walking partner. 
You did a little bit of research on your new phone that was given to you. A little deep dive on your new leader, Tomura Shigaraki, and just who he is. For starters, he is a villain who has one of the most destructive quirks you’ve ever seen. 
Decay. 
Tomura Shigaraki is a man with many dreams, those of which supposedly align with another villain — Hero Killer Stain. You don’t know how much of that is true, but you do know that he is dangerous, volatile and not afraid to kill to carry out his dreams.  
It's odd how fate brought you together. All you’ve known is to heal others while he seems to be a professional in death and destruction. Polar opposites. 
In your research you came across an article of the USJ incident, how the Symbol of Peace had been targeted. Shigaraki was the mastermind behind it all. 
It’s almost impressive how he seems to have captivated the attention of the public.
And now the very same Shigaraki is walking you to your room, insisting it is to make sure you don't get lost. Apparently that’s what a good leader would do. 
But there is no such thing as a free lunch. 
“You know,” he starts, interrupting your trail of thoughts, the never ending loop coming to a halt at his words. “There's something about you that's really gotten under my skin.”
Your breath hitches and you wait for him to elaborate. The quiet stretches thin between you both as your steps echo along the tunnels. 
“What’s your purpose here?”
It catches you off guard. “What?”
“Everyone in the league has a goal that they are fighting towards. The goals are like power-ups. I can't figure out yours.”
He’s got you. You don't have a goal, unless he counts survival. But they’re all just trying to survive aren't they?
“We’re all fighting for something or another. Money, freedom, revenge. Those are all important things that will drive you the extra mile in a pinch.” He keeps his tone leveled, innocuous. But you knew better. This is to gauge your resolve and you weren't sure what would come of you if you failed this test.
“What are you getting at Shigaraki?” You can't help the way your eyes narrow, waiting and watching as he brings a hand to the mask on his face. 
“I’m only asking to help you out. You can’t just go with the motions forever, you know.”
This guy thinks he’s so smart, like he’s got you all figured out. It’s irritating. “I’m not!”
Your eyes are glued to him as you both come to a stop. Your hands tremble as you watch him remove the hand from his face. The abrupt action makes you falter and you absently wonder if he’s shown anyone else in the league his face. 
Even in the dim lighting of the tunnels you could still see Shigaraki’s red gaze. 
His eyes consumed you so much that you had to take a step back. And he followed — close, but far enough away. 
“You are. You did what you had to do back then, but what will you do when you’re forced to make a choice like that again?”
The chill air of the tunnels do nothing to calm the heat you feel in your body. The fear and anxiety within your mind manifesting before you in its form of trembling fingers and labored breaths. 
What would you do if you needed to choose again? 
This situation could be over just as much as it could still be lingering. Watching and waiting for you. What would you do then? 
You hate how his tone makes you sweat. 
You hate the way his words make sense.
“An animal backed into a corner has no choice but to fight.” He continues, and you stare — taking in his features in the low light. His skin is pale and there’s something about the scars on his face that make you want to reach out. To see if you could heal them.
To see if he would let you.
You don’t. All you can do is stand before him, dumbfounded and speechless as he tells you the reality you face.  
“There will come a time when your ideals are challenged. What lengths are you willing to go to maintain that freedom? How hard would you strike at those who want to keep you down and dirty like a dog?” Shigaraki tilts his head, hint of a smile gracing his features but it is not one of joy. 
“This is your life. You are the one in control. Not me, not your father — you. I don't expect you to have all the answers now, but never regret making a choice that granted you freedom.” The words make you swallow, how someone could see right through you so easily… It felt absurd.  “And don’t underestimate the lengths you should go to maintain that.”
Shigaraki looks at you for a moment — as if to make sure you’ve taken his words in and then turns away. The silence was thick as he continued his route down the hallway. You drag your feet along to follow, unable to find the words to respond.
You're both arriving in the hall where your room awaits and you bite back a sigh of relief. This trip feels like it took years. 
You both pause in front of the door, staring each other down. It's like you're on another planet completely. 
“Goodnight.” He whispers, voice low as if there were others around to wake. 
Shigaraki places the hand back on his face and brushes by your side, his steps echoing in the vacancy of the tunnel as his words reverberate in your mind.
Tomura Shigaraki is right about one thing. 
You would do anything to keep your freedom.
—------------------
The following days within the league have been mellow. 
As the resident healer you come across all kinds of injuries and scratches that don’t take much effort to heal. It gets you into a routine of some kind. 
Toga, with her minor cuts and bruises, to Spinner who had a massive gash in his arm from lack of practice with his katana. It’s all simple and easy. 
Your current patient, however, is not simple and easy.
Dabi is someone you have had little to no interaction with, the man choosing to spend his time elsewhere and makes his stance with the league known.
He couldn’t care less for any of it. 
Far too focused on his own goals and motives, Dabi tended to be out and about on his own business. 
Your hands tremble as they hover over his bloody arm. Apparently there was a fight and one of the guys caught Dabi off guard. He only managed to cut his arm before being incinerated. 
The heat of his quirk lingers before your hand as you focus your energy into restoring his arm. It was hot and you could only imagine the waves of his flames. 
He says nothing as you work, opting for a comfortable silence in the air of your room. The door is cracked allowing more light of the hallway to bleed into the space. His body is not one that you could ever fully heal. 
The burns were permanent, and with his constant quirk use you don’t think he would stay healed if you tried.
Your eyes trail up his arm and you notice the glint of the silver staples along his body. Then up towards the silver lining his face. You can't imagine how painful something like that must feel. 
Your eyes trail further up until you meet the cerulean blue of his. The sudden contact makes you instantly dart your gaze to the floor and the realization of being caught staring leaves you feeling unsettled. You’re not sure how long he’s been watching you, but it makes your stomach turn.  
Shigaraki has no use for harming you, but you didn’t know Dabi. 
You finish healing him and he stands, boots loud against the cement as he makes his way to the door. 
He pauses, opting to give you one last look. “You should really work on that.”
You know he’s not talking about your abilities. Your demeanor could use a lot of work.
You can’t help but agree.
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lovelybrooke · 11 months
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Omg i Love your platonic yandere spiderwebs stuff. I binged all of them basically the second I left the cinema and I was wondering if I could request something. What would happen if Reader somehow finds out what happened to her Peter (maybe she somehow gets her hands on surveillance footage) and how the spideys all react. If you’ll write this I’ll be forever thankful. I don’t really care if it’s headcanons or a oneshot, do whatever feels right to you. Luv u thanks
For the Multiverse (Yandere Spiderman Across the Spiderverse x reader)
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I swear you guys can read my mind. I wanted to go into this in my original concept, but thought it was too much, so I'm exsited to write this.
Check out my other stuff here: Masterlist.
"Peter, are you busy?"
Peter turns, giving you a lazy smile as Mayday coos in her baby carrier. He looks down, patting her on the head, be before looking back at you.
"No kid, what's up?" Your sweating, nervous even under the gaze of the notoriously calm Spiderman. You take a deep breath while picking at your fingernails.
"I-I was just, um wondering if you knew where Miguel is?" Your voice is small and wavering, nearly too quiet for Peter to even hear. He tilts his head, giving you a confused look.
"Yeah, he should be in his office." He lets out an awkward laugh, "...like always."
That does not help your anxiousness, wrapping your arms around your waist to calm your nervous breathing. "Y-yeah, I guess you're right. Stupid question." You whisper the last part, causing Peter to shake his head. He moves closer, raising his hand to pat you on the shoulder, retracting it when you skittishly move away from him, fear swimming in your eyes.
He ignores it, placing his hand back at his side like nothing happened, "It wasn't a stupid question, just...wondering why you were asking?"
You face is to the ground, so he isn't able to fully evaluate your emotions, but he can fairly assume your terrified of him right now. For what reason, he doesn't know, but he can also assume it has something to do with the person you're looking for.
"You wouldn't hide anything from me right." You look up to him with a furrowed brow, your mouth a thin line, "none of you...none of you would lie to me?"
"Of course, not kid." Peter doesn't waste a second. You nod, not looking at him like you knew something was up.
"Okay well, I'm going to find Miguel, thank you." You leave before Peter can say anything. He watches you go, fear rising up through his body as Mayday waves to you from her seat on his chest. Once he's sure you're out of earshot, Peter awkwardly pulls his wrist up, calling Miguel, who answers instantly.
"Miguel, I think they're on to something."
---
"Miguel! Miguel, I want to talk to you."
You don't hear anything for a while, seething in the silence of his dark office. You cross your arms, exhaling loudly as you wait for him to respond.
"You seem angry." Miguel says when his platform finally hits the ground. You scoff, throwing your hands in the air in frustration.
"Oh, really, I seem angry?" You give him a pointed look, frustration rising up in your voice, "Of course I'm fucking angry, Miguel!"
He turns to look at you, his face hard as stone, his gaze cold, "language" is all he says before looking back at his screens.
You let out an airless laugh, your arms falling to your side. You shake your head, staring at the back of his head in confused awe. "So, that's it. We're not going to...I don't know, talk about it?"
"I don't know about what you want to talk about?"
"About you murdering my best friend!" You scream, causing Miguel to finally face you. Your chest heaves up and down, a snarl on your face as you look at him. Miguel doesn't like it, this rage you're displaying. It makes him feel like he hasn't done a good job being your father, and he assumes he hasn't by the look on your face, one of malice and disappointment all rolled into one.
Miguel takes a deep breath, taking a careful step towards you, "It was for the multiverse."
"Oh bullshit!" You yell, pointing towards all his screens, "When has a Spiderman ever had to die for the multiverse?" Miguel closes his eyes, trying to sooth down his own frustration.
"Many times (Y/N)." You don't respond, a shaky exhale leaving your mouth. Miguel can see tears starting to stream down your face, all the frustration he felt washing away and is replaced with guilt.
"Look (Y/N) ...I didn't, I-I didn't want to you find out this way." He says, slowly moving towards you, placing a hand on your back. He can feel your heartbeat, it's erratic.
"If you didn't want to me to find out, why'd you do it." You mumble, leaning into Miguel's touch. He starts to rub your back, hoping to calm you down.
"It was for the multiverse, for you." He says before crouching down to your level, turning you towards him. His face is filled with remorse, even you can see that. But you can't help but be so incredibly angry at him for what he's done.
"He was my friend." You lip quivers as you speak, and Miguel wraps you up in a hug.
"I know." He whispers in your ear as you cry into his shoulder. His grip on you doesn't waver as he refuses to let you go.
---
"(Y/N)? Do you want to talk to us?"
It's Miles now. An hour ago, it was Gwen. Two hours ago, it was Peter. Before Peter was Pavitr, and so far, you haven't heard anything from Hobie, but you assumed he's shown up with one of them.
You don't respond, you were too tired to respond. You bury yourself deeper into your blankets and pillows, closing your eyes in hopes he'd go away.
You don't hear him move, but you assumed he did after a while. As you start to finally fall asleep, you hear whispers from more people outside your door.
The noise starts to get louder, even when you cover your ears with your pillow and groan loudly, hoping they'd catch the hint.
Suddenly, there's banging on your door. You shoot up, some of your blankets coming with you. The banging doesn't stop, even when the others outside beg them too.
"(Y/N) If you don't open up, I will kick your door down." It's Hobie's voice now. He doesn't sound angry, just worried, and you can tell he doesn't want to barge in, but you've been in your room for several hours.
"If you don't open this door soon I'll-" Hobie pauses and you can hear him take a breath, "Please, (Y/N), I-we are worried about you."
You don't respond, simply getting up and sitting down back to your door. You hear Hobie and the others whispering, mainly Pavitr rambling.
"Did you guys know?" You ask, voice drained of emotion. You wish you were stronger; wish you could demand something out of them. But you're just a child, a sad, grieving, child.
You hear Pavitr sigh, "(Y/N), we...we weren't allowed to tell you, you know that." His voice is just as shaky, you feel bad, wishing to step out there and comfort him, but you can't.
"We would've told you...if we could." Gwen adds, getting a hum from Miles. You stare down at your hands, they were shaking. Everything was shaking, you couldn't control it.
You stare back at the door, mainly the lock, questioning if there was anything you could've done. You know the fate of the multiverse isn't in your hands, but maybe there could've been something. You could've been a better friend, a better teammate, something other than the groveling mess you are now.
The sound of the door unlocking is quiet, but none of your friends miss it. Quickly, they move to look at you, you look like a mess, you know it.
"Was it my fault?" You try to steady your breathing "was there anything I could've done?"
They don't respond, you know the answer. You know that it's not that simple.
Pavitr is the first one to come in and hug you, it was warm, just like him. Then it was Miles, and Gwen, and finally Hobie, all wrapping you up in there embrace so you couldn't possibly leave them.
It felt overwhelming, the tears, the emotions, the support. You sobbed as they hugged you tighter, wanting nothing more than to be wrapped back up in your bed.
"We're sorry." You don't know who said it, but you know what they meant by it.
---
"Miguel, did we do the right thing?" Peter asks. Mayday wasn't present, he didn't want her to be here for this conversation.
"Of course, we did." Peter shakes his head.
"You sure? Because I don't know." He pinches the bridge of his nose, staring at Miguel with confusion. "The kid, (Y/N), they didn't seem so happy."
"They wouldn't be happy if they were dead."
Peter lets out a dry laugh, clearly not believing him, "You and I both know their Peter wasn't going to kill them."
Miguel huffs, moving towards Peter with frustration all over him, "If they stayed in their dimension, they would've died."
"So, we had to kill their best friend. That just isn't adding up." Peter yells, just as frustrated.
"If (Y/N) stayed in their dimension, their Peter wouldn't have been able to keep them safe and (Y/N) would've died." He said slowly.
"So, that Peter was an anomaly?" Peter questioned.
"Sure."
"What does sure mean?"
"It means stop questioning my authority." He said coldly. "Now leave, you're being annoying."
It didn't take too long for Peter to leave Miguel's office. Once he was gone, Miguel let out a deep breath, tired from everything that has happened this day.
When Miguel first met your Peter, he didn't expect you. Usually, he's able to expect the unexpected, but you were different.
Your Peter came to him, asking him to bring you along to Headquarters. Of course, he said no, but that didn't stop Peter from asking over and over again, like something was going to change.
One day, Miguel just felt the urge to ask Layla about you and after much teasing, she gave him all the information on you.
You were a friend of Peter, who, out the goodness of your heart, started helping him with his Spiderman adventures. Simple as that. Other than, of course, you dying when Peter would be away on a mission from HQ, from him.
He couldn't tell Peter about it; it would lead to so many problems later. But he couldn't just ignore it, he couldn't just let you die.
There are so many Peters at HQ, he assumed one being gone wouldn't hurt you. Even so, you made so many new friends. This was your home. He made you happy. And you made him, and so many others, happy.
Miguel knew he did the right thing. He did the right thing for him.
But for the Multiverse, maybe not.
---
A/n: I feel like the dialogue is kind of cringe, sorry.
738 notes · View notes
cinnajun · 11 months
Text
ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: one day only | zh
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summary | your friends make a bet that you and your boyfriend can’t spend one day without talking to or seeing each other, which both you and your boyfriend are convinced is untrue. so, you give it a shot—you just don’t consider whether or not the universe agrees with you, too.
genre | zhang hao x reader, established realtionship, fluff, short and sweet
wc | 1.3k
a/n: zhang hao heart eyes giggle giggle heart
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USUALLY, WHEN IT’S COLD OUTSIDE, you hold your boyfriend’s hand to keep your hands warm. Today, however, it’s cold, wet, and you’re boyfriendless, which was three negatives with not a single positive to balance them out.
You shuffle through the streets of Seoul with what you could only assume was a negative look on your face, staring into the windows of shops and cafes wondering what you could do to entertain yourself. As much as you didn’t want to, the thought of “If my boyfriend was here” popped into your head every twenty seconds, which only proved your friends right.
About a week ago, Matthew jokingly said that you and your boyfriend, Hao, would die should you be forced to spend a day apart from each other, which had sparked a heated debate within your friend group until today, which was the fated quote-unquote “trial.” At midnight today, they had you block Hao and sleep at your parents’ house, and thus the clock started—you were not to see Zhang Hao until 12:01 am.
Part of you wanted to break it off, mostly because you were cold and wanted to go home, but you had a point to prove, and about 5 people and $100 counting on you not seeing Hao until tomorrow. And, you’d made a big deal about how you were going to take yourself on a date and have the time of your life, which was not going as planned.
Meanwhile, Hao, who supposedly hadn’t taken a stance (which was a lie, because, when Matthew originally sent the text, he agreed, which offended you) was likely living his day like he usually would—practicing the violin, cooking an extravagant lunch, taking a nap at 2.
With a somber sigh, you wandered into a trinket store with no goal other than escaping from the cold outside. It was big and filled to the brim with glass cases housing jewelry, glass figurines, and anything else that felt worth obscuring from people prone to breaking things.
Without thinking, you stumbled over to the kids’ area. It was somewhat like a mini toy store, with Lego sets lining the walls and action figures sitting in plastic cases. To your right, there was a small basket with the label “pre-loved stuffies,” which you thought was adorable. You also thought that Hao would love it, which made you want to start crying.
You walked over to it, picking up the teddy bear on the very top of the pile. You nearly scoffed at it, staring at it with malice in your eyes. In the teddy bear’s hand was a small violin, misshapen and squishy, but still recognizable.
“They made him into a teddy bear,” you whispered to yourself, almost laughing. Well, now you had to get it for him, you reasoned, immediately beelining for the cashier. She greeted you with a smile, taking the bear from your hands and scanning the barcode that they’d haphazardly placed on the back of the violin.
“We actually just received this one today,” she hummed, bringing out a light pink paper bag to put the bear in. “From a little boy who said he was too grown up for it. It was very sweet.”
“Awe,” you smiled, trying to imagine a little boy marching in with a bag of stuffed animals and insisting that he was too old for a teddy bear. “How old was he, do you think?”
“Eight or nine, maybe? He was sweet,” she replied. You tapped your card against the card reader, shoving it back into your wallet as quickly as you could. The cashier handed you the bag, saying, “Thank you!”
“Yeah, of course,” you replied, turning to leave the shop with your new present in hand. With more resolve, you decided you were going to give up the challenge—this was stupid, and you didn’t need to be forced away from your boyfriend for 24 hours to prove a point. You knew that you could last a day without him if need be, and you didn’t need to test the theory for anyone.
The moment you were back on the sidewalk, you took out your phone, marching towards the train station. You would admit it, with pride—you loved your boyfriend and didn’t like being away from him. That didn’t mean you were incapable of being away from him for a while, so you would tell your friends that, and you would deal with the ridicule until they found a new thing to pick on.
So, you pulled up Hao’s contact on your phone, getting ready to press the unblock button, when you walked straight into someone’s back. You gasped, taking a step back and exclaiming “I’m so sorry!”
And then, you hear a familiar voice say, “No way.”
You looked up, jaw dropped as you stared at none other than Zhang Hao and Sung Hanbin, standing side by side, right in front of you. For a moment, the three of you just stared at one another in complete silence, like you were seeing each other for the first time in decades.
“No fucking way,” Hanbin repeated, finally breaking the silence. “There’s no way. Like, no way.”
“Apparently, there’s a way,” Hao replied, staring down at you with a pretty smile. You practically swooned, resisting the urge to engulf him in a hug and tell him how much you missed him. “How’s your day been, honey?”
“Fine,” you replied nonchalantly, watching as Hanbin typed furiously on his phone. “I got you a gift.”
“You did?”
You held out the bag, and Hao raised an eyebrow, taking it from you. He pulled out the teddy bear, staring at it with an incredulous look on his face. “You found a violin-holding teddy bear? Just out in the open?”
“It was on the top of a ‘pre-loved stuffies’ bin at a little shop down the way,” you replied, suppressing your smile. “And, get this, they got it today. Some kid dropped it off mere hours ago, and then I happened to show up on my no-Zhang-Hao-allowed day.”
Hao turned to Hanbin, and you felt your phone starting to blow up in your pocket, meaning Hanbin had successfully let the group know that you ran into him, unplanned, out on the open streets of Seoul, a good hour away from your apartment. “Does this mean we lose?”
“I don’t even know,” Hanbin replied, exasperated. “I—what are the odds of this? You couldn’t have even planned it. We’ve been together since last night.”
“I guess it was just fate,” you shrugged, crossing your arms. “And, for your information, I can easily spend a day without Hao.”
“Aw,” Hao said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. You finally felt warm again, and you felt a little embarrassed that this was happening. “Well, for your information, I’ve been complaining about missing you from the moment you left.”
“He has,” Hanbin agreed, holding up his phone. “Let me take a picture, ‘kay? I need to send it to everyone.”
You gave the camera a thumbs up, finally giving in and smiling (not for the picture, but at the fact that you were reunited with your beloved boyfriend). Hao, in the most Hao way possible, leaned his head on yours, also holding up his thumb.
“You and I were fate,” he chuckled, and Hanbin snapped a picture, memorializing this moment into history.
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thank you for reading !
555 notes · View notes
athenaistired · 5 months
Note
YOU GOT ME ABSOLUTELY HOOKED ON YOUR CHEATFIC WITH DILUC!
I need more of it :00
Will you be making a part two??
𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐂❞
— 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐭.𝟐 //
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plot: ᴅᴏɴɴᴀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅɪʟᴜᴄ ꜱᴛᴀʏ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴜᴇꜱᴛ ʙᴇᴅʀᴏᴏᴍ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇ ᴅɪᴅɴ’ᴛ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ʟᴏɴɢ. ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴅ ᴘʟᴀɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ʀɪᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ. ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴅ ᴅɪꜰꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴇᴛʜᴏᴅꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴏɪɴɢ ꜱᴏ.
art credit & word count: 4614
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴄʜᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ, ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ, ᴘᴏɪꜱᴏɴɪɴɢ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅɪᴠᴏʀᴄᴇ
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— 𝑴𝒀 𝑳𝑼𝑺𝑻𝑭𝑼𝑳 𝑯𝑼𝑺𝑩𝑨𝑵𝑫 !2!
“Y/N, we need to talk.” Diluc’s voice was stern. You hated that tone. That man dared to step back into your home, claim what’s right and what’s wrong, and now he thinks of assuming you’d reason with his fantasies. You waited for this sweet revenge for years. He deserved every bit of it. You were patient and cautious. Most importantly, fueled with malice.
“It’s Master Y/N to you starting from today, Diluc.” You couldn’t hold back a smirk from spreading across your face. The offended expression was just beyond amusing.
“Are you having fun humiliating me in any way you can? Did you think that stunt you pulled during breakfast was appropriate?” His voice sounded like it was about to crack from the pent-up pressure. You fake coughed into your fist and forced on a perfect smile.
“Oh? We are talking of what’s appropriate and what isn’t, Master Ragnvindr?” Diluc’s eye twitched, and he seemed to be ready to fight over this until twilight, but you had no time nor desire to spare, “Alright then, pyro-boy,” You walked up to a mirror in the hallway before the exit to fix your hair, “You see.. I’ve got errands to run, my dearest. I’ve got no time for useless chit-chat.”
And before anything else could be exchanged, you were already by the door running out of the mansion. Diluc could only burn stares into your back with a tightened fist.
-
“Master Y/N..”
Marie had no clue how to approach you with the information that she had found out. You’ve sent out so many search parties, volunteers, guards, knights, and even commissioners that have almost drained your wallet to the last coin of mora. You were about to go endlessly broke. Each day you’ve begged people to lend you a loan, however, no one could as they didn’t trust that you’d return it. Even so, none of that mattered when the love of your life was missing.
You had to find Diluc.
You knew he was not in the right mindset ever since his father had passed away. The redhead began to completely ignore you, wouldn’t speak a word in your direction, and locked himself away in one of the guest bedrooms. You gave him time. You tried staying positive, be patient, talk from the other side. You left food trays by his door, and you slid letters under the creak, in hopes that one day you’ll get at least something back.
But then, Diluc had vanished into the night.
And you fell apart.
“What is it, Marie?! Did you find him?” The desperation in your voice was painful. You have been so worried, that you’ve become ill. Your stomach was twisting in knots, your throat was sore, and you could never catch longer than an hour of sleep. Everyone watched you crumble down, but none of them could do anything.
There was no cure for a broken heart.
“No, Master Ragnvindr. But we do know where he left.”
“Then why are we still talking?! We must chase after him—!”
“He’s left to Snezhnaya. Rumors say that Master Diluc has no intentions of coming back. He had left, to take lives and execute revenge. It is impossible to go that far in Teyvat. People will die in search of him.”
Something cracked inside you. All you could do was sit back down on your chair, hunch over your back, and put both of your hands against the sides of your head. You just wanted to disappear. You couldn’t recall the last time you were this alone.
An agonic moan (or was it a painful cry?) had ripped itself from between your sealed lips. You were sobbing from inner pain; your chest felt torn apart. You’ve been humiliated, abandoned, and tossed aside like nothing. Did all those memories and promises never matter to Diluc? Was this marriage really just a contract to him enforced by his father? You were convinced that at least the two of you were friends. Turns out, it was all nothing in the end.
If he ever comes back — he will regret it.
-
The sunlight shined brighter through the colorful windows of your office. You had quite a lot of paperwork to do. Usually, you would do it at home, but with the “guests” around to make your life miserable, you preferred the office for today. You thought of getting them a separate house, or an apartment for yourself in the center of Mondstat. Maybe even moving all the way back to your motherland — Fontaine. You could finalize the divorce and rob Diluc of his last Mora, but you also were not quite satisfied. He had to feel more pain, more misery, more agony — like you did.
You wanted to ruin his life.
Not his status, health, or wealth.
Life.
You wanted to toy with his feelings, make him question his very own reasons and intentions, strip him of any power and confidence, and most importantly — break his heart into pieces, so that he’ll never recover. Same way you never could.
Your thoughts were interrupted by a gentle knock and a distant voice behind the main door. One of the guards walked in and bowed, and after your nod, he straightened up his back and proceeded to report the situation.
“The Honorary Knight and Master Jean request an audience, Master Y/N.” You blinked at the pleasant surprise. You haven’t seen Lumine for months now, and you weren’t expecting for her to come back this soon into town.
“Oh? Do let them in, of course.” The guard bowed once more before opening the front door fully to let the guests in, “My, am I dreaming, or are the two of my favorite people are in the same room as me?” You stood up with a happy smile and quickly gave the two women gentle hugs. Lumine blushed, Paimon puffed at not being mentioned, and Jean knowingly smiled, “What brings you two here?”
Lumine walked up closer to you with her sword atop her palms; there was a crack in the middle. It wasn’t broken fully yet, but with a single elemental blow, it would shatter.
“I see..” You mumbled, and picked up the sword from her, “What kind of monster have you fought to have broken blade made by my blacksmiths?” You jokingly asked.
“The Raiden Shogun..” Paimon mumbled, and your eyes widened.
“Huh—?” Before you could ask further, Lumine quietly cursed at Paimon, and then looked back at you.
“It is a very long story, but no, relations between me and Inazuma’s government are okay now.” The blonde girl reassured you as she waved her hands in defense.
“It better be, as I do not condone criminals, Honorary Knight.” Although you were being sarcastic, your tone still made the Traveler tense up, “Nevertheless, I shall have this fixed up within a week. I’ll make some changes with a few clients’ deadlines to have this as a special priority.”
“You’re the best, Master Y/N.” Jean sincerely smiled; you could see the gratitude swimming in her eyes, “I was so scared that you wouldn’t be here..”
“My dear husband came back home, so I will probably start showing up here on a daily basis from now on.” You said before you could think through your words. Well, not like this was a secret to many. After all, Donna had spoken so much about her successful affair with a married man that the news spread faster than the winds of Mondstat.
“Master Y/N has a husband?!” Paimon’s jaw almost touched the floor from shock, “No. Way?!”
“Sadly, that I do.” You groaned; already feeling a migraine building up.
“Master Y/N is married to Master Diluc.” Jean decided to speak in your stead, but you weren’t sure if the information was for the better or the worse.
“Diluc has a spouse?! But I thought that he was with Donna..” Paimon’s last sentence made everyone go quiet. Lumine lightly slapped her flying companion on the back of her head for messing up, meanwhile, the Acting Grand Master sensed that this was their queue to leave.
“A-anyway.. Thank you, Master Y/N. We will be seeing you later.” Jean forced on a smile, and soon they were all out the door.
You couldn’t help but replay the words over and over in your head. Without realizing it, you felt something warm and wet streaming down your palm. Looking down you discovered that you dug your fingernails so deep in your flesh that they broke the skin and made you bleed. You couldn’t even feel it. Almost as if you were somewhere else entirely.
-
“This is really bad! We should tell Master Y/N that Master Diluc is cheating!” Was the first thing Paimon said once Lumine and Jean were outside of the building. Both blondes had conflicted expressions on their faces, “How could he even do such a thing? Master Y/N is so nice and talented.. Ah.. This is wrong, so wrong..”
“Ahem.” Jean cleared her throat, “I guess it is only fair for me to tell the two of you a story about Master Diluc and Master Y/N.”
“There’s more to this?” Lumine raised her brows in curiosity.
“Yes.” The woman sighed, “The two of them had known each other since childhood, and got engaged at the ages of 16 for political and financial reasons. I do assume that they had young love in the beginning, but it quickly fell apart after Master Diluc’s father had passed away..” Lumine and Paimon exchanged a look of surprise.
“W-what happened?” The floating companion questioned further.
“Not many know this, but Master Y/N fell ill from a broken heart. They’ve searched and searched for Diluc in no vain.” Jean couldn’t hold back the frown that was forming. She remember those days like they were yesterday. Back then everything was different. Master Y/N had compassion, love, and care. Their heart had passion and kindness to give, but those dark times have stolen purity and light away from Y/N's mind — never giving it back.
Sometimes, Jean would see small glimpses of Master Y/N from the past, but they were barely there. Only an echo of the past. Nothing more, nothing less.
“They got better eventually, right..?” Lumine asked, and Jean nodded.
“Yes, as you can see. One day, Master Y/N left on a trip. All that I know is that at first, they visited a good doctor in Sumeru. That man aided them in quick recovery. After that, they went off to Fontaine in search of the best lawyers in case Diluc does come back. The rest is only known to Master Y/N, but even what I said just now is merely my personal speculation. I wouldn’t be surprised if they have been plotting a divorce for all these years in case their love had truly withered away.”
“And after all of that, Master Diluc came back and decided to cheat?!” Paimon could barely contain her anger at this point, as she waved her arms around and kicked her feet, “No, you know what?! Screw him! I’ll come up with an ugly nickname for him.. How about.. Hm.. Maybe.. No, that won’t do..” Jean and Lumine both sighed and left the floating fairy to her thoughts.
“Well.. I am not sure what Master Diluc is thinking.. But he is also not being his usual self.” Jean admitted with a sorrowful look in her eyes, “They both changed a lot, so.. I wouldn’t exactly jump to conclusions. Perhaps.. There is no black and white, but plainly grey.” Lumine raised a brow at the knight, but having caught a whiff of the feeling that she had said too much, the taller woman straightened her back and quickly looked away, “Well then, I must go.” She glanced up at the sky in surprise, “We’ve chatted all the way ‘till afternoon.”
“That we did..” Lumine whispered back in thought.
-
It was deep in the night when you finally decided to come back. As much as you would rather to avoid the two idiots resting under your roof, you didn’t want it to seem like you were running away. You had to come out as the winner in this situation no matter what, and you wouldn’t let some cheating bastard control where you rest, eat, and work.
“Master Y/N, welcome back.” Sometimes you wondered whether Marie ever slept. The woman waited for you by the doorstep; helping you take off your long beige coat.
“Thank you, Marie. I will not be having dinner tonight, but a snack would be appreciated.” You smiled at her, but her serious look never swayed.
“What would you like?” She asked, and a moment later you noticed a figure standing by the stairs waiting for you to finish your conversation. Suddenly, you were in a terrible mood all over again.
“A slice of shortbread with some tea, please.” You didn’t let your tone change even in the slightest.
“I will proceed immediately, Master Y/N.” Marie nodded and headed out to the kitchen area.
You decided to ignore the obvious presence for as long as possible. You took your time taking off your shoes, polishing them, and leaving a neutral essence inside so they stay fresh for the next morning. Then, you took out a roller hidden behind the shoe shelves and began picking off the dust and dirt off your coat. Of course, your maids would do this for you every evening, but you just wanted to see how long would the other person last until their patience would crack.
“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” Diluc gritted out between his teeth.
“My! Who’s there? Almost scared me to death!” You dramatically gasped and then turned around to face him with a sarcastic look.
“Stop with your fucking games.” You saw Diluc clench his fist, but that got no reaction out of you. He didn’t scare you, and never will. Even if he were to raise a knife or his claymore — you’ll never be afraid of a coward.
“What a foul language from a foul man.” You whispered under your breath, but loud enough for him to hear.
“Where have you been?” He asked and you raised a brow.
“I have no need to report to you.” You shrugged him off and began walking away down the hallway, but he quickly followed you. You stopped abruptly; almost making him smash into your frame, “But I guess I’ll indulge you. I was at work. Happy?”
“Delighted.”
“Now, what do you really want, Diluc?” You turned around to face him, and both of you stared at each other with hatred. Your rage was silent and hidden away, his was loud and clear.
“I want a divorce. You’re humiliating me. People speak about me in a bad light every single time I pass by a crowd. I’m losing respect and friends.” You could barely hold back a laugh.
“Divorce, you say..” You gestured with your finger for him to follow you. He was confused but did as you said. The two of you ended up in your personal study which you had built when Diluc was away. Silently, you walked up to your desk and took out a single document. You’ve treasured and kept this piece of paper in the safest place you could think of.
“What is this?”
“This — is the divorce that you so desire.” You refused to let go off it in case Diluc would rip it apart or set it on fire, “However, I’d advise for you to read it before agreeing. You know, there might be some elements which will make you reconsider.”
Diluc scanned the document quickly with his eyes, and the more he read, the paler and angrier he got. It stated here that the house, the business, the contracts, and everything will go to you. As someone who had been paying for everything over the past years, everything that used to be his — had become yours. Plus, with Diluc’s rage history and criminal record, he wasn’t considered to be mentally stable according to the laws of Fontaine. Thus, you were the one to stay responsible for the crucial deals.
“Criminal record..? Clinically insane..? What the fuck have you done?!”
“You amuse me, honey! You’ve done all of this yourself!” This time you laughed straight into his face. You laughed so hard that your stomach began hurting. Yes, you loved that expression on his face. The confusion, realization, panic, and finally — agony. He was feeling what you’ve been feeling for years and years at the time! He deserved it all!
“After you ran away for 3 years, I searched for you a long time. Eventually, I gave up and went to my good friend in Fontaine. That friend happens to be a divorce lawyer. We set up a defense statement, gathered evidence, questioned people for witness reports, and created a contract in advance. You were called to attend the court hearing many times, but since no one could get a hold of you, the court date was at first changed many times, until eventually the case was put on hold until I would be able to find you. Then, when you did come back, I hired a private investigator to uncover everything about where you have been and what you’ve done in the past three years. I’ve gathered further evidence and went back to court. You can probably guess how that went, but in case you haven’t figured it out — you are a wanted criminal everywhere except Mondstat, deemed irrational and insane, and you are suspected to be guilty of countless deaths.”
“You were prepared for the divorce.. All this time..?” Diluc couldn’t believe his own ears, “No.. Not even that.. You prepared everything to completely ruin my life..” He grinned and couldn’t hold back a nervous laugh. He stated at you in shock, disbelief, but most importantly — betrayal. It was written all over his face, and you loved every second of it. You wanted to see him in pain, you wanted to watch him regret his choices, you wanted him to suffer, and all because he left you. None of this would have happened had he made the right decision.
“Yes. I just wanted to see how low you would go before settling things once and for all. How many more disgusting lies and tales you would tell me.” You felt your voice increase in volume, so you fell silent for a moment, before continuing further, “The only reason I’ve endured everything thus far was because I knew that I had won even before you stepped back into this house. I knew that I would ruin your life no matter if you came back or not. I knew it, but seeing it play out like this?” You didn’t even realize that you were smiling. Your heart was blooming with joy.
“This might be the happiest day of my life.”
“You’re fucking crazy..” The man whispered in disbelief. All of this was beyond belief. For such fucked up case to go through, to be hidden away from him, and for everyone to be kept in the dark? There had to be uncountable amounts of bribery involved. And not just that; you’ve told lies, you acted your way through like an abused and damaged spouse. You had everyone fooled. Absolutely everyone, “You’re a psychopath. Y-You’re an actual psychopath.”
“You feed my ego more and more with each passing day.” You couldn’t help but take all of his ‘insults’ as compliments, “The paper that you’re looking at is confirmation of everything that had transpired. Once you sign this — the case will be officially closed. You can bring me to court if you so desire, but your chances of winning against me are estimated to be 0.05%.”
You were right. He had no chance against you, and even though admitting defeat this fast made a sour feeling creep up his back — he had already bit off more than he could chew. Before marrying you, he was warned about your family. That they were all crazy. Out of this world. But with your pure nature in childhood, he was certain you’d turn out differently — more weak and stupid. Maybe like Donna.
He was wrong.
You were a spitting image of your parents. Just as calculating and cold. He looked down at the paper in your hand, and then back at your smiling face. You had ruined a life to no repair, but there was no hesitation, no regret, no sadness. Only happiness. You were overjoyed. You seemed to be at the 9th cloud.
“What happens if we stay married?” He wasn’t sure what prompted him to ask this question.
“You get to keep your bar, your girlfriend, your friends. You will also get to stay in the guest bedroom of this house. You’ll be provided with food, water, and clothes. Your healthcare will be taken care of by me.”
“What happens if I leave?”
“You lose it all, and you flee in shame. You can never come back or start over. Any job would know of your criminal deeds and not hire you. You’ll become the man who cheated and divorced Master Y/N, and then ran away with a tail between his legs. You will also be known as a madman who in grief slaughtered innocents with the use of a delusion.” His eyes widened at the last sentence. It was shocking to him just how much you knew.
“I have no choice then.”
“You do. There’s always a choice.” You reminded him, and he could only glare at you with disgust, “I think this is a great way to put to the test how much Donna loves you!” You suddenly exclaimed, and Diluc’s eyes widened in horror at what you were suggesting, “Would she stay with a man who had lost his career, money, and status?” You got closer, and closer to him with each word, “Would she stay with him when everyone will know that she was the one to break apart a family?” You filled his brain with poisonous thoughts that he couldn’t shake off, “Would she stay knowing that you could kill when angry?“ Your hand trailed across his back towards his shoulder, as you leaned closer to his face, “You seem to love her oh so much, mustn’t you have faith in her feelings?” You whispered, and Diluc felt a nauseous wave swim across his gut.
“I’ve never met someone as sadistic as you.” He gritted out, and you bursted out laughing.
“You know, Diluc.. I am a good person to have on your side, rather than against you.” You shrugged, “You just made the wrong choice.”
Those were your last words as you finally began heading upstairs with Marie trailing behind you like a loyal puppy. Diluc was stuck downstairs with a storm of thoughts and a tonne weighting at his heart.
He had no clue what to do now.
-
Donna was getting worried about Diluc. The man began to eat less, stopped leaving their guest bedroom for weeks, and completely buried himself in books about the laws of Fontaine. He made a mind map of sorts using ripped out pages and liters of ink, but no matter how much she tried to understand what was written, she felt like she was going inside alongside him. Whenever she would attempt to communicate with him as to what was happening, he would either brush her off or ignore her altogether. She might have not been the smartest one around, but she wasn’t a complete idiot either. Sadly, all of her attempts with her lover were pointless, so that left her with a single plausible option.
“Master Y/N, Mistress Donna wishes to speak with you.” Marie knocked on your door, and you quietly murmured back a reply that Donna didn’t catch.
“You don’t have to call me a Mistress..” The brunette complained, but her voice was ignored by the maid who only gave her a small smile after opening the door.
“Donna, what an unexpected visit. Please, do take a seat.” You gestured at the chair in front of your work desk, and with hesitation, the woman took a seat, “Apologies, but you’ll have to wait until I am done. However, feel welcome to pour yourself a cup of tea.” Any other day, Donna would have insisted on their conversation being urgent, but over the past weeks she had learned that going against your word in this house was close to a sin.
The two of you sat in silence. She held her back straight but didn’t dare to touch the ceramic cup or the teapot. Her gaze got lost staring outside the window onto the endless fields, trees, and flowers. Ever since she and Diluc ended up here, it felt like all light was getting sucked out of her bit by bit. This mansion always had its curtains closed, with only a bit of sunlight peeking through. It made Donna feel suffocated like she was about to be swallowed by the four walls of this house — never able to escape.
“I’m done.” Your voice snapped her out of her thoughts, “What did you wish to speak about?”
For a second, she was silent. You could see her emotions and thoughts right through her eyes as if she was as transparent as glass. Donna was ridiculously easy to read. She seemed to be getting tired. There was an aura of defeat surrounding her.
“Do you love Diluc?” She asked. You didn’t expect that question, but it didn’t surprise you.
“I resent him. More than anything, Donna.” You reassured her, and she weakly nodded at that.
“Thought so..” She whispered, and sighed, “Is it possible for him to earn your forgiveness?”
You chuckled at her words and poured both of you some tea. With hesitation, she accepted and pressed the cup against her lips to take a sip whilst you were still stirring the hot drink with a golden teaspoon.
“When Diluc left me.. This house started to suffocate me. It felt like the sun would burn away at my skin, but the darkness would chew at what remained of my soul. I fell very ill, Donna. I was only 18, just recently married, and still so green and naive for this world. My parents died when I was only 10, he was the only one I had left — but he betrayed me. It taught me a few crucial lessons that I will never forget—“ You were finally done stirring the tea, and gently put the cutlery away.
“To only trust myself. To never forgive. To never forget. And to never let anyone think you are weak.”
Just as you were done, Donna realized that her stomach was hurting more than usual and she had an intense burning sensation creeping up her esophagus. Before she could drop the cup, you swiftly caught it and poured its contents back into the teapot. The brunette woman couldn’t stop coughing and gasping for breath as she watched you pour out the tea outside the window — erasing the evidence.
“Marie, the homewrecker seems to be feeling unwell.” Donna didn’t even notice the maid inside the room, already grabbing at her half-paralyzed body as if she were a bag of stones, “Could you have Sebastian keep an eye on her?”
“Of course, Master Y/N.”
Donna’s eyes wouldn’t stop streaming endless tears. Her nose became stuffed deep inside, but runny at the same time. She felt like from a collected woman, she was brought down to a complete mess all because she chose to trust you. She should have known better. You were full of rage, hostility, and madness. For some reason, Donna had the impression that even if you’d do something of such sort, there would at least be a warning — a built-up — but the incident just shocked her to the bone.
“Sebastian, Master Y/N requested for you to ensure Mistress Dona doesn’t die.”
Donna’s face and throat were starting to swallow up. She felt like a bloated balloon of liquids, and the more she struggled, the more it was getting harder to breathe. She felt adrenaline rush through, her heart rate picking up, and now the tears falling down her cheeks were not just from the tea.
Before she knew it, her whole world went black.
NEXT CHAPTER!
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wibta if i asked someone to adjust how they’re writing a blind character?
this is also rp related 👋 i’m 24. you can use any pronouns for me. i’m legally blind and use screen readers to navigate the internet. i work from home which gives me a lot of freedom, so i fill my time in multi fandom rp servers. they’re a lot of fun, usually
in one server i’m in, there’s someone (28nb) writing a blind character. it’s not an oc of theirs, and the source the character is from is sort of… bad at handling the character’s disability. not offensively bad, it’s just obvious the writers didn’t put much thought into it
i know the person writing the character is not blind. here is my problem: the way they write this character concerning their disability is just… it’s really uncomfortable. the first thing i noted was that they went out of their way to mention the character is blind at basically every opportunity. most conventions the character is in they end up bringing it up, like it’s the default topic they turn to when roleplaying the character. and obviously, as a blind person, i understand it’s a big part of our lives, but to bring it up every single conversation? they had the character make an offhand comment about how they would probably struggle to learn the names of the stores in the area (??? i assume because they wouldn’t be able to read the signs, but there are plenty of other ways to learn store names?) and in another instance the character asked another character to do a google search for them, claiming they couldn’t do it themself. there are just a lot of instances of them obviously over exaggerating how difficult some mundane tasks would be for a person who is blind, in a way that comes off as belittling
the thing that really got to me though is the fact that - despite writing a character who uses a screen reader - this person clearly as no idea how screen readers function or what they do. ic, their character (character a) fussed at another character (character b) for having a slightly erratic typing style. character b does make a lot of typos, but their messages are by no means unreadable. screen readers can be pretty smart and often know how to sound things out. but character a was making a stink about character b saying things like “oki” claiming it was unreadable. any actual, decent screen reader wouldn’t have a problem with that. my screen reader doesn’t have a problem with it, i can interact with character b fine and i always have. i was literally sitting there listening to them complain about messages being unreadable by a screen reader and using a screen reader to understand those “unreadable” messages
it’s so, so obvious that this person has but no work or effort at all into understanding the disability they are trying to write here. it’s extremely uncomfortable. i don’t think it’s done out of malice, but it is lazy and, i’ll say it, reeks of ableism. on one hand i feel bad for trying to dictate how people write their characters, but on the other i feel justified in pointing it out, as someone who is blind. but also this is a casual rp server for fun so it’s… maybe not a big deal? wibta if i asked them to maybe do some research and fix their writing accordingly?
What are these acronyms?
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vaporwavebeach-writes · 7 months
Text
Kinktober Day 4 (Teratophilia)
Deadite!Ellie (Evil Dead Rise) x Reader (NSFW)
(1,351 words)
Summary: You’ve seen enough horror movies to know that having sex with the demonic version of your neighbor is dangerous.
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Warnings/Tags: 18+, gender neutral reader, dead dove do not eat (seriously, this shit gets BANANAS), graphic depictions of violence, viewing the aftermath of a murder scene, stabbing, blasphemy (kinda), head trauma, breaking in, dubcon (ish), Ellie being mean, sadism, biting, scratching, monster fucking, oral sex
Notes: MAGGOT MOMMY <3 I had her specifically in mind for this one. I saw this with my friends over the summer and they thought I was CRAZY bc I said I could fix her LMAO anyway, enjoy the fic!!!
-
You’ve seen enough horror movies to know that hearing the loud thuds of people running and falling outside your door is dangerous. You’ve seen enough horror movies to know that hearing screams, bloodcurdling enough to know there was a threat is dangerous. You’ve seen enough horror movies to know that several gunshots, sending loud enough bangs to make your ears ring, is dangerous. You’ve seen enough horror movies to know that hearing laughter, full of malice, is dangerous.
So when you decided to peek your head out the door only to be met with the dead bodies of your neighbors, splayed out and bloodied across the hallway, you knew your horror movie knowledge wouldn’t be able to save you now.
The scent of death wafted around the hallway. Blood poured from the bodies of your poor neighbors. You were grateful to be situated at the other end of the hall, if you had a closer view to the emptied chasms of their insides, you were sure you would be sick.
At the end of the hallway stood Ellie. She looked dead. Her skin was pale, littered with bruises and cuts. Her deep red hair was matted. She was covered in blood.
Ellie? There is no way she could’ve done something like this. She was kind, always making sure to hold the elevator for others when they were running late. She took no-nonsense from anyone or anything. She had three children to take care of- all of whom you saw were being raised to be good people. She knew the neighbors. She knew you. She wouldn’t have done this to them.
Or at least that’s what you thought until you saw her prowl down the hallway. What you saw, wasn’t the Ellie you recognized. It seemed as if all her bones were broken, and put together the wrong way. Somehow, she moved like a wounded animal, but also like a dangerous predator. The sound of her heels dragging and scuffing against the floor along with the garbled coughs of your dying neighbors was a sound that was sure to stick with you for as long as you lived- which you assumed wouldn’t be much longer. As Ellie continue to stalk closer to your door, decided that if you were about to die, you wouldn’t go down easy.
Slamming your door and locking it, you arm yourself with a kitchen knife, and begin to pray. You can hear the thud of her footsteps stop. For a brief moment, you feel relief, until loud and heavy pounding starts to come directly at your door.
“God won’t save you now.” A hoarse, demonic, almost inhuman sounding voice taunts from the other side of the door. Mustering enough courage to look through the peephole, Ellie stares at you. Sunken, black circles surrounded her eyes, looking bruised and bloodied. Her eyes were no longer the bright blue you had seen flash you kind glances in the past, but a ghostly, milky white. Dead. Lifeless. Yet, there she stood outside your apartment, staring back out you through the peephole with a crooked and menacing grin.
“It’s so pathetic,” she says blankly. “Praying as if you think you’re going to make it out of here…” You grip your knife tighter. “As if God can even hear you.”
“Jesus, Ellie,” you reply, hushed. “What the fuck happened to you? You don’t look so good.”
“Ellie’s rotting in hell with the rest of your sack of shit neighbors!” She shrieks. You look away from the peephole as Ellie reels back and continuously slams her head against the door. The wood begins to splinter and crack, and you can only watch in horror as the woman you once called your neighbor, makes her way into your only safe haven.
“Mommy’s home.” She drawls distortedly. She sets her sights on you, creeping over surprisingly quick where you can feel her, just inches away from your skin.
Jamming your knife into the side of her skull, she pauses for a moment. Did you get her? Is she dead? You get your answer soon enough as she pulls the knife from her head and slams it right next your hand where she has you backed up on your kitchen table. Despite the dread churning in your stomach, the proximity of her body so close to yours was enough to spike your arousal, as well as fear.
“Such a pitiful sight,” she teases, as you feel the air of her breath on your neck. You let out an involuntary whimper, cheeks beginning to heat up. Ellie sees this and barks out a cruel laugh. Her hands move across your body, clawing and grabbing at every crevice. “You are such a coward,” she chides. “Letting a monster feel you up.” She was right and all you could do was nod. “I know you’d do anything to stay alive, right?” Her voice drops to a sweet tone. It’s sick to hear such a scary and mocking voice have such a sweet tone.
“…Yes” you grit out, shaking.
“It’s always the sluts like you that make the most delicious screams.” She smiles wickedly, before violently kissing and biting at your chest. Your shirt is practically torn open as Ellie pushes you down and pins you to the table.
Moving your hands up to touch her, Ellie painfully slams your hands above your head, back to the table. Her mouth continues wandering down your chest, teeth grazing over your nipple, threatening to bite. Your breath hitches, and you let out a pained moan when she finally does. Her teeth sink down on the sensitive flesh, and she does nothing but laugh as you writhe around her.
Her nails rake down the rest your body, surely hard enough to leave a mark. You let out a moan of relief when she unattaches from your chest. She sinks down to your arousal, ripping off the pants of your legs with terrifying ease.
“You are one sick, disgusting fuck,” She sighs with false disappointment. “So fucking horny while your neighbors die all around you…” The shame washes over you, but Ellie’s ministrations as she teases you through your underwear make it hard for you to focus on anything other than getting off. “I can smell how much you’re enjoying this, you pathetic whore.”
You let out a whine as Ellie coaxes you right to the edge, stopping just before the point of no return. She sinks down, spreading your legs, leaving you splayed out on your kitchen table.
“You must be completely fucking stupid if you think I would let you off that easily.” She jabs. Pulling off your underwear, you lay there on your table, while a feral, monstrous version of your neighbor starts to violently go down on you.
Her tongue is fast as it swipes over you. She’s messy and rough, leaving no spot untouched, chuckling and murmuring filthy phrases into your sex. Your back arches and you grip the edge of the table, white-knuckled, whimpering shamelessly. The table begins to shake as her arms sling over your legs, holding you down. Her grip is harsh, marks sure to be left behind. She bites into your inner thigh, which only further spurs on your wanton feelings, starting to reach the edge.
Looking over to your side, the bloodied knife stares back at you. In the midst of your euphoric high, you hatch an idea to stab this demonic version of Ellie while distracted, give you time to possibly escape.
You don’t have much time to waste. When your orgasm quickly washes over you, Ellie gets up, spying the knife as you swing it up. She catches it, blade going directly through her hand. In your hazy state, she smilies back out you with that same malice she’s had this whole time.
“Aw,” she taunts. “Did you really think that stabbing me again would put me down?” There’s that sadistic sweetness in her voice. She drops the act almost immediately, lunging at you with her hand around your throat. “That was a naughty trick, and naughty behavior deserves to be punished.”
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