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cupidsyndrome · 4 months

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ᖭི༏ᖫྀ CARELESS WHISPER.

🏹 ANGST , HURT / NO COMFORT. 639 WORDS. 💌 in which after days of searching for him-- he's finally there. now what ? 🩷 cw. none (except for the usual mentions of murder that go hand-in-hand with geto).

you’ve lost countless hours of sleep trying to get there. now, you’re unsure of what to do. you’ve thought about it again and again; unable to find answers to your own torment. you can feel him– well, not exactly him but his energy, overflowing through every nook and crack of the old house. you notice it doesn’t have the same warmth it used to have; it all feels too cold to even be his.

a shadow catches your attention in the corner of your eye. you freeze, your heart almost jumping out of your chest.

it’s him.

he looks better than the last time you’ve seen him; hell, he somehow looks healthier. your appearance seems to take him just as much by surprise– cat-like eyes widening just enough for you to notice it. the both of you spend a long time analyzing the other– still never commenting on it. it almost brings a sense of comfort. the higher-ups told you that he was a lost cause: nothing more than another curse user to get rid of.

you’ve heard of the atrocities he had committed. you’ve seen the atrocities he had committed. why is it still so hard to believe any of it was ever real ? looking into his eyes– you’re only seeing the boy you love. the same one you grew up with, the same one you’ve shared your first kiss with. while his body had grown distant, the familiar tenderness held in his gaze remained there; unaffected, never-changing.

the sight brings tears to your own orbs.

his arm reaches out on instinct.

“don’t,” it comes out as a plea. don’t make this harder than it needs to be, is what you actually mean. he gets it– like he always used to, when it comes to you. he gets it. it doesn’t stop him from taking a step closer, that’s when you notice he still wears the fragrance you’ve been desperately trying to remember for the past few weeks. “don’t– don’t come any closer, i will..” you’ll what ? the words die off your tongue, unable to find the strength to fool him (nor yourself).

he’s close, so close.

if you decide to meet him halfway you’ll be done for. you know it just as much as he does. the consequences, the warnings– it all falls on deaf ears as you take the final leap of faith. whether you’re falling into your own salvation or damnation doesn’t matter. all that matters is the way his calloused hands cradle your face oh-so gently– affection running so deep that your soul feels the soothing of his touch. his tongue darts out to wet his lips; and the fleeting thought that he might kiss you makes you blush. if it wasn’t for the underlying atmosphere, it would have been devastatingly romantic. a part of you thinks it is– no matter what.

you can tell he’s hesitant.

his lips press into a thin line as he lets his thoughts wander. his thumb grazes your bottom lip– it’s a habit of his (“it helps me think,” he once said). you have to remind yourself you’re not seventeen anymore and this house isn’t your dorm. his mouth opens– as if he was about to say something, and only now you realize how eager you are to hear anything he has to say. how eager you are to hear his voice. he chuckles at your expression, adoration adorning his features. you smile at him– and then, there it comes.

‘i’m sorry,’ he doesn’t dare say the words, only mouthing them. you get it.

‘i love you,’ you mouth back.

he lets go of your face after that, turning around and leaving like nothing happened– like he's so used to do. you can only stare at his back as you accept your faith.

freedom isn’t always a gift– sometimes it comes with a curse.

#geto x reader #geto x you #geto angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #cupid's arrows #jjk angst #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader #geto suguru

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asteria49 · 15 days

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And what if the oath sworn on flesh and spirit was because of this interaction?

Lithariya and Gortash lounged in silence for hours, staring up at a moonless, starless sky. Every so often, he stole a glance at her. And more than every so often he considered breaking the silence to ask whether she was cold, if she wanted a blanket, if she wanted to rest with him, but he suppressed the urge to ask.

Chemical. All of this was merely chemical. Given a few days of quiet and they would be back to normal.

And what was normal? An ally of decades whom he trusted more than Bane himself. This ally with whom he had mixed in pleasure. An ally to whom he had shared things he would rather die than admit to anyone else. All his plans resulted in shared power between two equals, all his plans were crafted to complement their particular brand of brilliance. He was deluding himself if he thought for one moment that he didn’t—

“He won’t let me go.”

Her sudden admission startled him.

Her gaze was distant, unfocused. “He won’t let me go,” she repeated.

Gortash slowly drew himself up to sit.

“I used to dream of ways to earn His favor. I used to give my worship freely. I would slit and cut and skewer for Him of my own free will. I led His cult.” Her voice was hoarse. Her hands trembled. “But it was never enough. He wanted control. He wants to be my puppeteer.”

He was at her side, now.

“My disobedience, my defiance is not something he will tolerate. I can feel Him now, biting at the edge of my consciousness. It is only quiet because He is planning something that will make me unequivocally compliant.”

Gortash collected her hands in his. “Lithariya…”

“If He takes me, it won’t ever end; He’ll always be there screaming murder in my head.”

He could see the fear in her eyes, but also the determination.

“He won’t let me go. He demands a fate of madness, subservience, or death.” She sucked in a breath. “He has to die. Permanently this time.”

“And He will. He will, Lithariya, I—“

“I don’t care what we have to commit to get enough power to do it. I will run the Chionthar red. I will commit atrocities that will make the gods quake in their thrones. Bhaal must die.”

Gortash cupped her face in his hands. “He will. ”

“If He claims me, Enver—“

“He won’t.” His stomach twisted again and his chest felt like it was being crushed beneath a mountain of cinderblocks. “He won’t claim you. Your will is stronger than His. You will be the one to kill Him. I will make sure of that.” He brushed his thumbs along her cheekbones. “Your mind is unlike anything I’ve seen. Let Him have his tantrum. Let Him come. When He does, you will overpower Him and I will be there to make sure that you do.”

“Enver…”

Who was he kidding? At some point he had allowed himself to fall in love with her. Everything was different now, everything had changed. He could try to hide it from Bane, from Ketheric, from the Bhaalist cult, but the only one who hadn’t seen the truth for what it really was, was him.

His lips were on hers - soft, tender, delicate. It wasn’t the fervid, rough, greedy kisses they had shared before. No, this felt like his wretched soul writing love poems on her lips, his heart rehearsing promises on her tongue, his spirit giving itself to her care. She leaned into his confession and wrote one of her own upon his mouth.

Completed fic here. It's doomed lovers. It's soft. It's tragic (emphasis on the tragic - it does not have a happy ending)

#durgetash #dark urge x gortash #soft durgetash

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islaytonlost · 11 months

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The Jigsaw Museum Part 3

cw: Assault could be seen as sexual, depending on how you take amabs shirts being ripped off.

First part, Part 2, Part 4

---

“The castle itself is large, not every room is dedicated to the day the case closed, so we’ll move through each room by case until we reach the first Forbodium case. Then things get a bit more complicated. Not to worry, I’ll be right there with you, guiding you through the process.”

The audience laughs at Lady Addems’ Joke Lucy doesn’t. She frowns instead, glancing up at the Prof. She wished she could talk to him, know what was going on inside his head. Al had been awfully nice so far.

It was just weird, he was usually snapping, ready to bite anyone and everyone’s head off. Now, he was restrained and, terrifyingly excited about this. He had to know there was no way the museum could do this justice.

They move through the rooms, Lucy keeping close behind Alfendi. Hopefully, he knew what he was doing but when it came to something that wasn’t murder it was quite rare. Running head-on into things was what he thought worked. He was wrong.

They move through the Barbane Street Stabbing room. So far Lady Addems was going over Keelan’s deal with Justin. How him having a motherless child at home meant that he couldn’t afford to go to jail and the deal with Justin was the best thing that could have happened to him.

Al looked excited. Lucy couldn’t help but feel dread pool in her stomach. Had he noticed how she sounded like she was praising Keelan for making such a good business decision? How she was happy that lives were lost because it meant Keelan lived.

Shouldn’t Al be in any way disturbed? She was. Just hearing about Justin’s betrayal hurt her all over again. Just remembering that case…

Lucy had been excited at the time, her blood pumping, ready to take on a real mystery to save Alfendi even if in a way she was betraying him. After was different though… After she’d had nightmares about getting it wrong.

Justin had been so manipulative, so friendly, and then hurt everyone. Maybe Al was just happy his lies were being brought to light.

They move to the next room without even a mention of the victims’ names.

“And now this room is to commemorate the Case of Raymond Tube. You can see here the very 32-inch analog television Keelan used to smash his head in.

It was instinct to grab Al’s arm as the spotlight turned on. There it was, the television, still blooded, out there for a crowd to gawk at. Evidence put out as if a spectacle. As if the crime should be preserved just for morbid fascination.

Al glances at her, “you’ve seen blood before.”

“Where did she get it?” Lucy’s voice came out too faint. She just couldn’t tear her eyes away from the television. Sure she’d seen blood before, she’d seen this before but this was just disrespectful to the families who’d suffered. To the decided.

Lady Addems locks eyes with Lucy from across the room, everyone else were too busy inspecting evidence, evidence that shouldn’t be out there. She knew what she was doing. Reality seemed to smash into her.

“Even you could figure out she has contacts,” he snaps, Lucy felt frozen. She’d known this was a bad idea, she’d told him and he hadn’t listened, he never listened, why hadn’t he listened?

Alfendi hadn’t listened then either, he hadn’t listened when she told him he was innocent, he’d admitted to a murder she’d never committed, one mistake, just one mistake that night-

“Lucy,” Al grabs her hands, “Lucy listens to me, this is just a museum, it’s just entertainment for the people, we’ll get on to the rest, the emotional bits, after. You like that, you always sympathise with the criminal.”

“Dianne was different.”

Al cups her hands in his, his actions were weirdly tender for the purple look on his face, like he wanted to yell at her for her daring to sympathise with Dianne.

They move rooms and again, the victims were not named. Alfendi drops Lucy’s hands as he moves, “Get a hold of yourself. We confront her at the end. Worst case scenario we shut them down!”

Al had only spoken in a whisper, but Lucy understood from the spark in his eye he was deathly serious. They could deal with this, she knew they could deal with this.

A rich lady had nothing on years worth of conspiracy after all.

13 cases later and Lucy was less optimistic.

“And finally we’re up here on the roof. The place where Alfendi Layton got shot and put into a coma,” everyone turns to stare at him.

Lucy stood steadfast next to him. Some people glanced at her, whispering, clearly wondering who she was. They’d find out soon enough.

“Some say you never woke up the same Alfendi,” she used his first name like they were close. It made Lucy shudder, but Al stood firm against that. She shouldn’t know that.

“Some say that a part of you died.”

“I am not dead!” he yells. Teeth bared. The first sign of anger, Addems smiles.

“Now if you’ll come downstairs you can look at the evidence, away from the elements, to preserve them. I have Keelan’s clothes.”

“Just a bit longer,” Lucy whispers. His head tilts, tiny, imperceptible.

“Here you can see Keelan’s clothes,” Lady Addems actually sticks her head in the cabinet to take a whiff. Her fingers trace the bullet hole, then she picks something out of the cabinet, “and here’s the bullet, fired by Justin from Alfendi’s gun.”

The metal was still tinged a coppery red. No, no she was reaching in again she couldn’t be so sick. Lucy holds her breath as she sees Alfendi’s bloodied suit being held up. There was so much blood.

Her fingers find themselves around Alfendi’s arm. Traveling down feeling his pulse. Still alive. The bullet that should have killed him didn’t. Her fears were unfounded she shouldn’t even be having them she was never there.

“Now, I have a treat for us, if Alfendi is willing,” Lucy’s hand slips into his, giving it a squeeze. She could only be there for him. She’d always be there for him. “could you show us your scar?”

Eyes land on him, the room silent. Al stares intently at Lady Addems, “No, and how did you get your hand on all these pieces of evidence? Seems pretty sus to me.”

Lucy grins, immediately catching on, and he used her word!

“Well Alfendi,” the way his name rolled off her tongue, gave Lucy goosebumps, “I brought them.”

“Who did you buy them off?” she stayed cool, calculated, eyes on the prize.

“Detective Lawson,” so she wasn’t on a first-name basis with anyone else. Why Alfenid then? What did she have to gain?

“That’s illegal, I need to take all this back in, and any documents you may have.”

“No that’s alright. Minister of State for Crime and Policing signed off on it himself. Bill Hawks.”

Lucy glances up at Alfendi, there was a blank look on his face, and then through gritted teeth he demands, “Proof,” the Lady pulls the document from her bag. Al scans them, leafing through each page.

“excuse me for asking but aren’t you on break Alfendi,” Lady Addems’ hand had found its way to his chest, just where the scar was.

“How dare you! How dare you do this!” It wasn’t Alfendi yelling it was someone from the crowd, “You glorify the people who killed my son and now you’re going after the detective the one good detective who brought his killer to justice!”

A blonde-haired man walks up, he was shorter than Lucy but built stocky. He could take any one of them in a fight with a good chance to win.

“Apologise, apologise at once for inviting me and my wife!”

“No!” Lady Addems yells back, clearly uncaring for the feelings of those in the room. Lucy averts her eyes, feeling this matter to be deeply personal and if the man were to attack her she at least would not be able to testify against him.

That’s when she saw it, the tiny camera on the wall, more than one, there were a few, observing their every move. Not security cameras. They were obvious for a reason. A thief deterrent reason. She didn’t want them to know they were being filmed.

“Prof.”

“Not the time,” the words came through gritted teeth.

“She’s filing us Prof, surely that’s illegal.”

“Not in a public setting it isn’t. We need something better to catch her, to close this thing down.”

The man punches her, sound echoing through the room. Silence.

“and a camera,” there’s a hint of a smile on his face, “I need to commemorate this dastardly place being created in my name.

Then two stocky men in all black drag the man away, “Call the police! Po0lice that are on duty, I want him arrested, charged with assault.” Lady Addems cries. The man’s wife tries to get involved but only ends up being dragged out too.

“Keep calm Prof, we’ve got to be able to do something.”

“How did you get this information?” Alfendi asks, “Some of it is top secret, not available to the public.”

“I spoke to Justin. I’ve a whole room dedicated to our chats, it was so much fun to visit him in jail, Potty.”

To anyone else that’d seem like an oddly placed insult. To Lucy and Alfendi it was reminiscent of an affectionate, yet slightly offensive nickname Lucy had given him. Before that discussion on boundaries.

“How dare you!” Al had lost it, that façade of calm gone to reveal the mountain of rage that he was, “How dare you go to that lying traitor and not me, why you deserve to be locked away for this.”

He leers at her, crossing the distance between her until they were almost a hairs with apart.

She then does it, something unthinkable, something Lucy hadn’t even thought of in the dozens of worries she had that this would end poorly. She ripped open his shirt in one fell swoop, revealing his scar.

They grin at each other, “I wouldn’t have done that, assault on an officer, that wouldn’t hold up in court.”

“Oh, it will. Bill Hawks said he’d personally back this project,” a long finger traces his scar before digging into the wound.

Lucy wanted to help but Al was more than capable of defending himself besides Lady Addems had already turned away.

“Behold, the wound that should have killed him!” the guests stood there, too stunned to speak.

Alfendi pushes her back and then grabs the collar of her dress, dragging her up until she was balanced on her toes, “apologise!” he hisses at her. Lady Addems doesn’t answer, looking almost amused.

She doesn’t answer, which just aggravates Al more. He slams her against a wall, “I said apologies,” this time it was a yell.

The crowd remains silent, until someone tries to leave, discovering the door to be locked.

---

Right around the 5th case where Lady Addems was explaining how cunning Justin’s betrayals were and how clever Keelan Makepeace was Chelmey decided it was time to leave. Florence, unwilling to leave her new friend joined him.

They found a plush sofa in the lobby and after asking to see if it was the only way out, they both sat there, tired.

“Barton’s going to be annoyed.”

“Alfendi is an adult. He doesn’t need a babysitter.”

Florence laughs, “You’d be surprised, he boils over way too often.”

“eh?”

“He has a habit of losing his temper.”

“Oh,” Chelmey considers a moment, “he’s an adult, that’s his responsibility.”

“Oh, that’s fair, I’m just…”

“He’s your friend?”

“Yes, well, sort of. I care about Alfendi. He’s always paid attention to my hunches, taken me seriously, it’s just…” Florence trails off. Chelmey lets her, not making a noise.

Florence lets the silence drag out before choosing to continue, “I’m sick, like really sick. I go to the hospital all the time. I can’t count how many times I’ve almost died. I don’t know if I can inflict that on someone else.”

Chelmey studies her, “You work at a police station?”

“Yes.”

“With people who risk their lives all the time.”

“I mean not always they use the reconstruction device.

Chelmey sighs, “You ruined a perfectly good speech on mortality. No, what I’m getting at is that you are deciding what’s best for other people.”

“Isn’t that what you’re meant to do you know, as an officer of the law?”

“Ex-officer of the law and no. Too many decisions for other people and you’ve got yourself a very mentally scarred officer who can’t function for fear of what power he had.”

Florence couldn’t help but wonder if he was talking from personal experience, whether or not he had been through something similar constantly chasing criminals, murderers. He’d probably danced with death.

Chelmey continues, “So you need to get out there, live while you're alive and worry about being dead when that happens.

“T-“

“Now, I’m taking a nap,” he leans against the wall, almost immediately beginning to snore.

“Thank you,” Florence whispers, grabbing her IV, and going to look for Lucy and Alfendi.

#professor layton #alfendi layton #fanfic #layton brothers mystery room #lbmr #lmbr fic #lucy baker #jigsaw museum #florence sich #inspector chelmey

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dragon-in-the-watery-bowl · 1 year

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Festering

Another part for the Ghost AU, this time for something I wanted to write for a while.

This is also a sequel for "Hit and Run".

After shambling back to his room, and trying to sleep the pain away, the first thing Makoto saw after waking up was Utsuro looking at him, with his usual blank expression, but he had a feeling that the ghost wasn't happy with him.

The memories of last night came back to him, the mysterious note, being hit in the head by someone, Utsuro's worry after he woke up and him ignoring his voice, and...

What he discovered about Sakura.

Sakura was... the mastermind's spy?

He couldn't believe it, something like that wasn't like the Sakura he knew.

Why she did that? What had happened to make her do that? Why-?

"Are you feeling better now?"

Utsuro's voice stopped his train of thought, leaving him confused for a moment, until he felt a small throb on the back of his head.

Oh yeah, he was attacked last night.

Wincing after rubbing the tender spot, now covered in dried blood, with his fingers, he thought about how worried the ghost looked when he recovered his consciousness, and, without saying anything, he nodded, not wanting to worry him further.

Utsuro looked at him for a while, making him a bit nervous, until he sighed and turned his back to him, not saying anything.

He felt that this wouldn't be the last time they would have this conversation.

---

He was glad that Makoto had woken up, but he was still not happy with his decision to sleep the attack away.

Junko could have killed him easily with that strike, or at least leaving him with severe brain damage.

It was just luck that he didn't got completely screwed by it.

That's why he felt so... annoyed, when Kyoko admitted to him that she was expecting Junko to make a move when she sent him to look.

Their conversation had ended with the detective growing distrustful of Makoto, with a reasoning that Utsuro found stupid.

She knowingly threw him to the wolves, but she stops trusting him because he wasn't comfortable about telling her about what they had discovered about Sakura, something that could have consequences if told too soon.

If anything, he had more reasons to distrust her.

But, even with that, he still trusted her.

Why?

Why he trusts everyone so easily, not matter what?

Even when they blamed him of a murder he didn't commit.

Even when they have blood on their hands.

He looked at his hands. He was trembling.

Why he trusts him so much?

---

The day had ended with Chihiro's Alter Ego revealing to the rest of class 78 about Hope's Peak original plans to protect them from the Tragedy and the reason why they were trapped in the building in the first place.

Obviously, Junko had made sure that they didn't remember all of that for the killing game, and they didn't had all the pieces of the puzzle, so they ended up speculating about what had really happened.

And he could feel Makoto's glare towards him during the conversation.

After everyone went back to their rooms, he could still feel him looking at him, and it was starting to get grating.

"Ask away, I know you want to do it"

Makoto made a noise, high in pitch, that reminded him of a bird "W-what?" He said, slightly startled.

"Since Chihiro Fujisaki's alter ego told you guys about the files he discovered, you're been awfully focused on me" He waived his hand, wanting to end this conversation already "So tell me what's in your mind already"

A tense silence fell onto the room, with no one saying anything, until Makoto finally spoke.

"Do... you know something about this 'Tragedy'?"

He didn't answered immediately, glancing at the camera. He had to be careful, with Junko constantly spying them with those things.

"I... yes, I know, but it wouldn't be wise to tell you right now" He nodded his head towards the camera, with the luckster getting what he was trying to say after a moment of confusion.

"But I can tell you something: It is not about what you can remember, but what you can't"

"What? What do you mean?" Makoto asked, but he didn't answer.

He was sure that both him and Junko were going to leave him sleeping with great questions in his mind.

---

With everything that already had happened, Makoto couldn't think that it could get worse.

But with Monokuma still in control, that was going to be impossible.

Because he had decided to reveal Sakura as his mole.

'Eye for an eye, fang for a fang': you betray me, I betray you, revealing how you betrayed everyone else.

The revelation had split almost everyone in two sides: Byakuya, Toko and Yasuhiro being against Sakura, and him and Aoi being still on her side, knowing that she was coerced into spying them.

He didn't knew where Kyoko was in this mess, she was still angry at him.

And the distrust didn't stop by the next day.

With Byakuya saying insensitive things too many towards Sakura, Aoi lost her patience, with a fight being avoided by Kyoko's intervention.

Everyone had left to their rooms, not wanting to interact with each other anymore. He thought about talking with Aoi, but he decided not to after he heard Utsuro talk.

"Why you still trust Sakura Oogami?"

"Eh?" He was pretty confused at his question "Well, I'm guess you saw her fighting Monokuma after... that" He said, putting his hand to where he was hit days ago, a gesture that, he thinks, made the ghost visibly flinch "And Monokuma mentioning a 'hostage' when he revealed everyone about Sakura being the mole..."

"What are you trying to say?" Utsuro's voice was starting to sound more angry.

"W-well, I'm saying that she was clearly being forced to spy on us by the mastermind, being blackmailed with the safety of someone dear to her, and now she had decided to stop playing their game!"

"And what if her deflection isn't truthful? What if she tries to kill someone anyways?"

"You were with me when I saw her fight Monokuma, right? Did you not heard what she said there?" Why he was acting like this? He was aware that Utsuro didn't seem to trust anyone besides him, but, after the day they discovered that Sakura was the mole, he was been acting weird "She said that she 'was going to resist him', she wouldn't go back on her word and kill someone"

The ghost was starting to get more agitated "And why you're thinking she will keep her word?!"

"Because she's my friend and I know that she's a kind and honorable person who wouldn't kill anyone willingly!"

Utsuro put his hands over his face, groaning loudly, getting more agitated the longer the argument continued.

"Ju-The mastermind doesn't care how 'honorable' or 'kind' someone is, s-they will find the way to make them kill" He spat back, not even bothering to hide his anger "You know what happened with Sayaka Maizono and Mondo Oowada..."

He flinched at the mention of his dead classmates, but Utsuro didn't stop there.

"And even if Sakura Oogami doesn't kill anyone, that doesn't mean that someone would try to kill. I can see someone else getting blood on their hands thanks to the paranoia"

He couldn't handle the ghost's pessimism anymore "What has gotten into you-?!"

"Why are you so goddamn trusting?!"

After those words got out, he was too shocked to continue talking, making Utsuro continue.

"When Sakaya Maizono died in your room, everyone pinned the crime on you without a hint of a doubt, only stopping once you proved to them that you couldn't commit the crime the way it was done, and you have the gall of still calling them your friends?! You spend almost all the time with them being ordered around and being treated like a slave, because they don't care if you get hurt or killed after they send you to, I don't know, a secret room on the school's bathroom, to test a theory they had" Utsuro was starting to pull his hair in a way it looked painful in the middle of his ranting "I don't know what the hell is wrong with you, not doing anything while they abuse you and treat you like dirt, only smiling and trying to befriend them, no matter what they do to you"

"Wait, Uts-"

The ghost didn't heard him, too lost on his rambling "Do you don't have any spine?! This servile attitude won't lead you anywhere except to a path of pain and misery, no matter how much you think that people will immediately become better if you do everything they want you to do. I don't even know why do you trust me so much, I'm just an selfish and uncaring asshole who betrayed everyone that thought I was their friend and left them to die!"

"Hey, plea-"

"CAN YOU SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO ME FOR ONE SECOND AKANE?!"

After he said that name, the room fell into complete silence, both of them trying to process what had happened in that moment. Makoto stayed completely still, but Utsuro was "breathing" haggardly, face flushed in anger.

It took some seconds, but Utsuro's face started to change into a expression of mortification and shame, slowly hiding his face behind his hands, getting Makoto out of his frozen stupor, making him move a hand towards him.

"H-hey-"

"I don't want to talk anymore" Utsuro said, muffled under his hands.

Makoto didn't knew what to do, so he sat on his bed, waiting for the nighttime announcement to arrive.

---

When he opened his eyes, Utsuro was sitting at the bedside, with his back turned to him.

He had a restless night, having spent hours laying awake on the bed and, when he finally fell asleep, he only got a dreamless sleep that left him more exhausted.

Actually, he was pretty sure that it was still too soon for Monokuma's morning announcement to play.

He didn't wanted to upset the ghost even further, their argument was still fresh on his mind, so he started to quietly get up from the bed, when he heard his voice.

"I'm... sorry"

He looked back at Utsuro, but the ghost hadn't moved an inch since he talked.

"I shouldn't had snapped the way I did it yesterday, I'm... not good with emotions and... things become too intense if I start to feel" He was trying to grab the bedsheets, but they only went through his hands "I don't know how to describe it, it's like my brain gets stuck on that emotion and I can't stop it. Has been time since I felt something like this, and I wasn't prepared"

"I... think I should apologize too" Makoto finally said "You had to be so scared when the mastermind attacked me that day, but the only thing I was thinking was about how everything in the room had disappeared and how tired I was, and I didn't even tried to hear what you were trying to say to me"

With Utsuro not answering, he continued "And the next day, I just acted like nothing had happened, having been more worried about Oogami being the spy than anything else" He didn't move from where he sat on the bed "I was really stupid then, I'm sorry"

The room fell into silence, with only minutes for the morning announcement to ring on the entire building and bring sound and life onto it, even if that life had already been cut to half from what it once was thanks to the sick game they were forced to play.

He had replayed their argument in his head the entire night, being unable to stop thinking about what he had called him at the end, in that last explosion of repressed emotion, a name he had never said in front of him "Uhm, Utsuro?"

He waited until he was sure the ghost was listening to him, having turned around to face him.

Utsuro only had moved his head to the side, only one eye looking to where he was sitting.

"At the end of the..." Argument, he wanted to say, but the word couldn't get out of his mouth "we had... uh... why did you called me 'Akane'?"

Utsuro tensed up for a second, before his shoulders slumped down and moved his head to look at the floor "She... was someone close to me, and I... ruined her life... because she wanted to be at my side, forever"

"She... died?" He felt awful. What if Utsuro was so worried that day because that 'Akane' girl died in a similar situation?

"I think not, she's maybe hurt, but not dead..." He laughed slightly. That laugh sounded sad and melancholic "It was the only time in our lives together that she didn't listen to me..."

"Oh..." He didn't heard that last thing he said, he was talking too low, but he didn't wanted to press the issue further.

He got up and went to his bathroom to, at least, wash his face. This argument between the two of them was finally done, but there was still the problems that Sakura being revealed as the mole had caused between his living classmates and friends.

---

After Makoto got out of his room, they heard a scream coming from the dining room.

With how low the screaming voice was, it had to be the clairvoyant.

Makoto ran towards the room, with the scenario that greeted him being Genocide Syo towering over Aoi, with the latter on the floor, grabbing her shoulder in pain.

After Makoto and Yasuhiro got Aoi in the nurse office, they got an explanation of what had happened: Her and Toko had a fight about Sakura's situation and accidentally dropped some pepper, triggering another of the Ultimate Murderous Fiend's arrivals.

Thankfully, Aoi only got a scratch from the attack. This reminded him that, even if Syo wasn't interested in killing anyone right now, she was still dangerous.

But the person who ended up the most affected by this attack was Sakura herself, who had barged into the room in a panic, probably because she also heard Yasuhiro's scream, and fell into an impotent rage at that had happened to the swimmer.

Sakura left the nurse office after accidentally scaring Yasuhiro again, with Aoi close behind, but there was something about what she last said before leaving that didn't sit well for Utsuro.

She was going to 'draw a line'. Something told him that, whatever she was planning to do, it was going to end badly.

Like that, the only living people left in the room were Makoto and Kyoko, the latter arriving after seeing Yasuhiro running in fear from the martial artist.

Kyoko had decided to "forget" her previous antagonism towards Makoto, something that, for him, didn't felt like the apology she thought it was.

At least she admitted her behavior was stupid.

What she wanted to talk about, however, was related to Chihiro's alter ego.

Once they arrived to where they were hiding him from Junko, he told them that he wanted to be connected to the building's network and investigate further.

He already knew it was going to be a bad idea, and Makoto knew it too. Yamato's alter ego was only able to elude and overpower the Monokumas thanks to "Yuki" unknowingly using the Divine Luck, in a attempt to save everyone who was still alive and beat Akane, still unaware he was the real mastermind.

But nobody in this building had Divine Luck, so Junko wouldn't have any problem to catch and erase him once she realized about the intrusion.

But things were already decided for them, so the best thing they could do was connect him in the secret room, hoping that it could give them some time before the Ultimate Despair catched them onto their trick.

Thankfully, Junko was only interested in getting rid of the books and similar stuff, so she didn't touched whatever else it was on the room.

During the walk to the 2nd room, they bumped with Yasuhiro and Syo, who, he noticed, were acting in a stranger way than they usually acted.

Something surely had happened.

Before he started to climb the stairs to the 2nd floor, the laptop hidden in his jacket, Makoto stopped and started to talk.

"When the mastermind attacked me and took everything out of the room, did you saw if they went away with more than just the files?"

Well, he was more or less panicking over Makoto and wishing death onto her than really "looking" at what she was doing, but... "No, they were only interested in the written stuff, they don't touched anything else"

"Good..." The luckster said before starting to move again, not wanting to leave the detective waiting.

Once they got into the room and left the Alter Ego connected and working, Makoto fell asleep the second he got on his bed, only to be woken up by the sound of the doorbell.

It was Kyoko. And she told them that Aoi had came to her scared out of her mind, begging her to come to the Rec Room.

Before following her, Makoto looked back at him, worried, but he couldn't give him reassurance.

He was right, whatever Sakura tried to do had went wrong.

Once they arrived, the door to the room was stuck with a chair and Sakura was sitting in the middle of the room, errily still.

He could faintly see blood on her face.

Even if she wasn't dead, they needed to act fast.

With Aoi giving him a broom to break the glass, giving him the opportunity to get the door unstuck, Makoto opened the door and ran towards the martial artist.

But, once they were close enough to her, it was clear they were too late.

She was dead.

And there was nothing they could do about it.

#my writing #Dangan Ronpa #danganronpa #trigger happy havoc #danganronpa fangame #danganronpa another #dra #super danganronpa another 2 #sdra2 #utsuro #makoto naegi

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every-bad-thing · 2 years

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You're Being Awfully Presumptuous

Your neighbor is a vampire. It's the only thing that makes any sense. First, he dresses EXACTLY like Dracula, all the time, even when alone in the house. Second, you never see him in the day, only at night. And third, even though he has a kitchen, you've never seen him eat, and even though he has a bathroom, you never see him use it.

You learned all these things over the past few weeks, shortly after getting a telescope for your birthday. You've been watching him, every so often, through his windows. It's how you discovered his peculiarities. It kind of scares you, really, but you keep watching, night after night. Sometimes he's on the couch in the living room, reading a book. Sometimes he's playing the piano he has in the upstairs hall. Sometimes he puts on a record and dances like no one's watching, even though someone is watching. But anything to do with normal human functions? Eating, drinking, going to the bathroom? Nowhere to be found.

Weeks go by. You reach the limit of what can be learned by peeking from afar. So you break into his house one Saturday morning, throwing a rock through a window and loosening the bolt. You look into his fridge, and there's no food, but there are stacks and stacks of bags filled with a dark red liquid. It's blood. You look around some more. You realize there's no mirrors anywhere. Finally you get to a closed door upstairs. You push it open and see, pressed up against the wall and resting on a large block, a coffin. You creep over and gently lift the lid. Inside is your neighbor, with a trickle of blood running down his mouth. Up close you can see his two sharp fangs protruding over his lip. It's confirmed. Definitely a vampire. Only one thing to do.

( "Wooden Stake #2" by aneye4apicture is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0. ) You go back downstairs and smash one of the chairs in the kitchen, made from a heavy pine wood. You'd think the noise would wake someone, but the vampire remained fast asleep. You take one of the legs and, with a knife from the counter, sharpen it to a point. Finally, you grab a meat tenderizer from one of the drawers and go back upstairs, on to the coffin room.

You lift the lid, place the stake, and pound down the hammer. Your neighbor wakes up, screams, then crumbles to dust right there. You did it. You killed the vampire. And it wasn't even that hard. You go home, feeling very proud of yourself.

Until later that night, when the police show up at your house. They say they have a warrant for your arrest, for breaking into your neighbor's house and killing him. But, you say, he was a vampire. And the police say yes he was, but that doesn't mean you can just kill him like that. You're impressed by how casually they agreed he was a vampire, but distressed by them believing what you did was murder.

Later, at your trial, you learn that, yes, your neighbor was indeed a vampire. A vampire who sponsored the town's youth sports league. A vampire who taught adult literacy classes at the local community college. A vampire who let people use his lawn in the summer for free movie nights. A vampire, in other words, who cared. And then, the prosecutor says pointing at you, this villain over here broke into his house, destroyed his furniture, and killed him without mercy. And doesn't even feel sorry about it! What crime, the prosecutor asks, did this vampire commit? Was he bothering anyone? Hurting anyone? Doing anything to deserve a stake through the heart? He. Was. Not.

Your own lawyer argues that all vampires must drink blood to survive and so he had to have been a monster. But then you learn that he actually bought his blood from a blood bank like any respectable vampire would. And then your lawyer actually says “well I got nothing then” and sits down and that's the end of that. The jury doesn't take long at all. In just a few minutes they come back and say they find you guilty.

You spend the rest of your life feeling like you should have thought things through a little more.

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#short story #short fiction #vampire #trial #justice

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spellwrites · 2 years

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Imogen does not kill.

(Part 1 of 2)

She can’t. It’s not an issue of morality or ability – she has no ethical objections to killing someone, not when it’s deserved, and she’s certainly powerful enough to do it without trouble – it’s the having killed, not the killing itself, that concerns her. She doesn’t think she can handle the emotional and psychological fallout of having killed.

After all, she nearly did it once, at the tender age of sixteen. She came as close to committing murder as it is possible to get, but when faced with the impending consequences… she couldn’t finish the job.

No, it wasn’t life in Azkaban that made her lower her wand – if that was the price of revenge, she thought she was prepared to pay it – it wasn’t even the idea of irreparably damaging her soul. Not really. It was the knowledge that she would have to live with having killed a man, no matter how deserving she thought he was at the time.

Even though she didn’t kill Lupin, she still carries that moment of almost having killed with her for the rest of her life. She vows she’ll never let herself go so far again…

And then the war begins anew, and she’s right in the thick of it, and the ideal that once seemed honorable becomes untenable, selfish even. They’re at war against forces that would see the entire world destroyed. If she refuses to use deadly force when it’s needed, more people – her people, good people – will die for it. There’s no place in a war for a soldier who won’t kill.

But she still can’t do it. Just the thought of crossing that line is enough to send her into a panic.

Thank Merlin she’s a good enough duelist, and a ruthless enough fighter otherwise, to work around this. Bring them right to the edge of death without sending them over. Incapacitate, not kill. Having a few prisoners in the Order’s pocket isn’t a bad thing.

For three years, this works well enough, and she thinks just maybe she can make it out of this war with her soul intact.

Then comes the Battle of Hogwarts.

(Part 2)

#the world isn't split into good people and death eaters ( headcanon )#it matters not what someone is born but what they grow to be ( meta )#you think the dead we loved truly ever leave us? you think that we don’t recall them more clearly in times of great trouble? ( verse )#i've chosen my side ( verse )

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evita-shelby · 9 months

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not only did oppenheimer leave me in a desolate state but also craving functional domesticity.

Can we get a one shot of old eva and old tommy being them. (taking a walk, or how they act with their grandkids, being crotchety old with eachother but still like moments of tenderness)

also i had a complete laugh at the last chapter, Tom just carted off the minute he said Diane’s name. I honestly re-read the whole series and remembered how Diane had that illness and they really thought it was TB, and tommy was faced with that real possibility that his only daughter (at the time) could die. As much hell as Diane has given him since he really can’t help but think of that pivotal moment that struck such fear in him, but now he’s faced with the very real possibility that this delinquent is going to take his daughter way from him. Honestly it makes sense for him to be concerned, despite Eva’s assurances he is a dad and what he’s seen of Tom wasn’t promising (even though that was partially his fault lol) and while brashness is rewarded there’s a pretty fine line between being headstrong and being stupid. I feel like Tommy is weary bc a man like Tom with that pride is either like Tommy (which he doesn’t like) or like his father (which he HATEs) but spoiler he’s his own man.

Yes omfg Tom x Eva when they old, i will het started as soon as i can.

Putting the answers for the next part under the cut

As for Diane, in the TYHTM/tie your heart to mine verse, she would have been 14 when she almost died in 1934 and has led to her being more mature for her age (she is having her 20th birthday in the next chapter, a month older than Karl) and having a very present fear of death (as seen with her reaction to knowing Tom’s going to end up in the Navy) and thinking people do not understand the seriousness of it as she was literally at death's door (due to a generational curse Tommy inherited from his mom and grandpa and accidentally passed on to her when he refused to commit suicide like them).

Tommy lets her get away with murder for that reason, and mainly because he blames himself for her illness as a teen. Eva assures him his fears are perfectly normal as she doesn't want to lose Diane so soon, but then remembers she was 21 when she met Tommy after having been exiled for treason and was a war veteran by 19.

He hates Tom because he sees himself in him despite the differences in their stories, he sees the kid who cannot find his place in the world and resents his dad who he and Lois couldn't count on when his mom died (would've been 12 when Josie Bennett died).

Now that he sees Diane in love with him, and knowing Tom is going to have a life altering experience in the war, Tommy fears his daughter will be stuck with a man who she will have to take care of, may die any second or will turn into him because history has a funny way of repeating itself.

Tom of course isn't turning into Tommy as he refuses to become like neither his dad nor Tommy.

And even if he dies in season 2, he will live forever and have Tom Jr, Josie and Douglas with Diane in a nice house in Manchester.

Eva has seen it, and Tommy better get used to him.

#diane shelby #diane shelby x tom bennett #tie your heart to mine fic #tommy shelby #eva smith shelby #tommy shelby x oc

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angelofthenight · 2 years

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Last Man Alive Pt.12

(Dano!Riddler x Reader)

(Link to list of chapters)

Warnings: Edward is a yandere, Dark themes, Batman Begins reference, Coraline reference, Slasher film elements, Light gore

Word Count: 2.5k

“Are you fucking Batman?”

Bruce looked around like he was searching for an excuse. “…No.”

(Y/n) looked at him with a sentimental feeling written with her features. “Please just admit it, say that you’re the Batman. Say that you’re the self proclaimed symbol of vengeance. I really want to hear you say it.”

Bruce was about to spout off in denial again but couldn’t bring himself to from the hopeful, happy look in her face. He slightly nodded silently before saying just above a whisper, “Yeah. I am.”

A big smile sprouted on (Y/n)’s lips, her eyes twinkling as her brows curved upwards. “It all makes sense now. This whole time, it was you.” She started to take slow steps toward him. “Right from the beginning. That’s why you funded the funeral and took me in. You’ve been protecting me through two different lifestyles.” She reached him and looked up at him with those big soppy, tender eyes like she was looking at some sort of higher power or rare angel.

“Can I hug you?” She asked softly. Bruce was so filled with a warm feeling in his chest that all he could was nod. She slowly wrapped her arms around him and melted against his body with her smile still intact, Bruce returning the hug as well. She was overflowing with joy over the fact that the two people she was most grateful for were one and the same.

She moved her torso away so she could look up at him. “I never even thanked you.” The corners of his lips lifted a bit as he laid a hand on her shoulder in an affectionate manner. “And you’ll never have to.”

Their warm and benevolent moment was cruelly ruined when the alive T.V. surrounded by computers said something in its low volume that forced them both to turn to it. “-the Riddler posted this as of last night.” The news woman said before her frame was switched the video the Riddler had posted. It first showed up as an older video of an election campaign. “I’m Thomas Wayne and I approve this message.” The man in the video said from his podium.

Bruce slid his arms off of (Y/n), who looked at him nervously from the mention of his last name, and gradually walked over to his desk where the small T.V. sat. “From a very young age, my family, Martha’s family, the Arkham’s, instilled in both of us that giving back is not just an obligation, it’s a passion. That is our family’s legacy.”

Shots of old newspapers covered the screen with the Riddler doing a voiceover. “The Wayne’s and the Arkham’s, Gotham’s founding families. But what is their real legacy? Twenty years ago, one reporter set out to uncover the dark truth. He found shocking family secrets.” The screen displayed photos of Martha Wayne and photos from a crime scene, (Y/n) walked up to stand next to Bruce whose shoulders were as tense as stone.

“How when Martha was just a child her mother brutally murdered her father then committed suicide and how the Arkham’s used their power and money to cover it up. How Martha herself was in and out of institutions for years and they didn’t want anyone to know!”

(Y/n) glanced over to Bruce to see his face painted with absolute terror-stricken shock, his throat pumping with deep breaths. “Thomas Wayne tried to force this crusading reporter into a hush-money agreement to save his mayoral campaign! But when the reporter refused… Wayne turned to longtime secret associate Carmine Falcone and had him murdered!” The Riddler giggled out the last part.

(Y/n)’s hand lifted up to cover her mouth to prevent a gasp. She wasn’t very involved with politics and/or celebrities and never really cared about them since she already assumed they were all secretly bad people. But she just felt so bad for Bruce. He was already a shut-in who, she recently found out, spent his nights beating up criminals so he really didn’t deserve this being laid out to him.

“The Waynes and the Arkhams, Gotham’s legacy of lies and murder!” The screen cut to a side of that question mark backdrop (Y/n) has grown to loathe. The Riddler walked into frame and said, “I hope you’re listening, Bruce Wayne. This is your legacy too.” He walked closer to the screen.

“And my darling,” (Y/n)’s senses perked up and glared at the screen, “I only unmasked him to show you that he is not the perfect little golden child you think he is.” He said with pure venomous disgust laced in his voice. “He is even more corrupted and monstrous as the other fiends that I exterminated from your life. Do not worry, soon you’ll see things my way.” His masked face was only inches away from the camera, shaking (Y/n) to her core as her pupils shrunk.

“Goodbye.” He breathed out and the camera fuzzed to black.

Bruce didn’t say a word while (Y/n) looked down at his hunched form over the desk, eyes full of sadness for him and fear for her. She gently rubbed her hand on his shoulder blade as her voice trembled, “Bruce, I-I’m so sorry. If I never got mixed up with you he wouldn’t have revealed that. I’m sorry this is all my fault.”

Bruce shook his head stiffly, still violently shocked from the exposed ugly truth. He peeked over his shoulder at her but his wide eyes didn’t meet hers. “It’s not your fault. Don’t ever blame yourself for his unpredictable madness.” He pushed himself off the desk and toward the elevator, (Y/n) following closely behind with an unsure look.

They both entered the elevator and it was sent upwards, no words spoken between them during the short ride. Once the gate opened Bruce immediately bolted out, yelling over his shoulder. “Stay here, I just- I need to talk to someone.” “Ok, be safe!” (Y/n) called back, worried even though she knew Batman could perfectly take care of himself.

It had only been around half an hour since Bruce left, the clock striking 12 for midnight. She laid on the silk and cotton blanket of her bed and fiddled with her fingers, fidgeting anxiously as her paranoia woke up from its nap. She stared up at the old, fancy ceiling while thinking back to the Riddler’s most recent. “Do not worry, soon you’ll see things my way”, those were his words.

It wasn’t what he said that unsettled her greatly, it was how he said it. He empathized on “soon”. Was this all coming to an end? Was he wrapping up his plan? What would that mean for her? Was his plan just to kill and/or expose everyone she was close with and once she was scared and all alone that’s when he would come into her life through his secret identity? Or was he going to be forward and possibly kidnap her?

She sat up. He didn’t know she was at Wayne Manor, right? It was only Bruce and Alfred who lived in the huge house, not much security other than the vigilante who resided there. She slowly pulled her legs up and hugged her knees, feeling sick and lightheaded from paranoid fear. Especially since Batman wasn’t here to protect her.

She scooted off her bed to reach the floor, maybe she should stick with Alfred to make her feel better until Bruce returned. She started walking and was about to pass her door frame when her phone on her desk started vibrating. She flinched, her heels partially bouncing, and froze in her spot with her shoulders tensed into a hunch.

Her phone vibrated again. She slowly turned around as it vibrated a third time. Her screen was facing down on the wood, a glow outlining her device. She gulped like she could just swallow up her fear as she walked back to her desk. She reached her hand down to flip her screen upwards as it showed a “no caller i.d.” was trying to call her.

She clenched her jaw and bit her cheek. She wanted to just ignore it. She wanted to just turn around and go straight to Alfred. Because she knew who would be on the other end. And she just wanted to not talk to him. Those desires couldn’t hold her back as she lifted the phone to her ear, her thumb pressing the green circle to answer.

A heavy breathing invaded her eardrums and her eyes squeezed shut in uncomfortableness, it felt like he was right there breathing in her ear in person, like the worst ASMR. She didn’t even realize she was holding her own breath. When it became clear to her that he wouldn't talk until she initiated it, she swallowed whatever was in her mouth out of nervousness and spoke. “What do you want?” She cursed the clear fear in her voice.

A quick, quiet shaky moan fell from between his lips after her voice spoke into his ear. She cringed in complete disgust, wanting to throw up over how easily the creep got turned on. A few seconds of unbearable silence filled the air until he finally spoke. “Let’s play a game, just me and you.”

(Y/n) took slow breaths. “What kind of game?” A breathy giggle came from the line, like he was getting excited. “Instead of hide and seek, let’s play run and seek. You run and I’ll seek you out. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

Her breaths became huffs, biting her tongue as to not respond as terror invaded her system. He indirectly stated that he was in the house with her. Her eyes darted all over her room to try and pinpoint any hiding spots. “Before we begin,” the Riddler added, “I have some gifts for you in your closet.”

(Y/n) swore her heart stopped beating for a moment. Her limbs tensed as she turned on her core to face the direction of the closet in her room. The Riddler stayed silent over the phone, waiting for her to find what he left for her.

(Y/n) put the phone on speaker and laid it back on her desk as she slowly, alarmingly made her way to the closet that had shade casted over it making it seem more eerie than it should’ve been. She only had one lamp turned on in the room but that was all the way in the farthest corner, right across from the closet.

Once she reached the tall wooden doors, she opened them in a slow pace to take her time to take in everything in her eyesight. It was dark in the closet but small bright colored boxes grabbed her attention.

There were two shelves near the bottom of the closet and on the top one was three heart shaped boxes, all three different colors and stacked from biggest to smallest in size. She carefully picked them up from the bottom box and brought them to her bed, not bothering to close the closet as her hands were full.

She told herself that whatever was in the boxes, she would remain calm. She had to keep her cool if she wanted to win the game of cat and mouse with the genius psychopath. She took a deep breath through her nose and decided to open the top box first. It was a small white heart shaped box with baby pink lace tied around it in a bow. She pulled both ends of the lace to undo the bow easily until it laid outside the box.

Her fingers delicately lifted the top of the heart box, her heart hammering against her ribcage in anticipated fear. There was a mini red notecard with bold white writing that read, “Pinky Promise?”. She sucked in a fast breath before moving the card to the side to be met with pink tissue paper. She pushed the paper open to reveal a severed pinky finger that was cut from the knuckle, a ring of small daisies tattooed around the cuticle.

Her throat hyperventilated behind her forced pursed lips, her pupils basically shaking. There was another thing under the tissue paper, at the very bottom of the box. She closed the tissue paper back over the pinky so she could remove it from the box and to the lid. It was a photo of her favorite coworker at the fabric shop restocking the cotton fabrics. (Y/n)’s bottom lip quivered over the realization of who was the owner of the decapitated pinky, referencing that the Riddler had eliminated the favorite coworker from her life.

She forcefully slid the small box to the side, not wanting to look at it anymore even though she guessed the last two boxes would be even worse than the one before it.

The next box in the stack was the medium sized pink heart shaped box with the same styled lace as the last one but this time in red. She repeated the process to open it to be faced with a mini white notecard with light pink writing that read, “I’ve Only Got Eyes For You”. She clenched her eyes shut for a second, not wanting to dig deeper into this box. Regardless, she removed the card and opened the red tissue paper.

“Oh my god.” She quietly gagged when looking down at the two dried eyeballs with blue iris’ in the center of the tissue paper. She hurriedly wrapped the tissue paper back over them in disgust and removed them from the box, wanting to know who the Riddler cruelly stole them from.

She looked down into the box to look at the printed photograph. It was of herself talking to a blonde girl with blue highlights in a lavender lace bralet and a blue metallic fabric pencil skirt with a scale design, a thick white jacket covering her arms from the cold air of the city. (Y/n) recognized the scene in a heartbeat. It was on Halloween and the girl dressed as a mermaid actually came to the fabric store in late September for the metallic fabric since she planned on sewing the skirt herself.

(Y/n) helped her find the fabric and even helped her pick out a shade before selling it to her. She remembered she told the girl to come back to the shop one day to show her the finished product. The girl showed her in person during the daytime of Halloween. The night where (Y/n)’s world was turned upside down. She remembered the blonde girl flirted with her and asked her out before (Y/n) politely declined with the answer of her already being taken. The blonde girl took the rejection very well and still wished to be friends. (Y/n) told her to come to the shop anytime.

Tears stung in (Y/n)’s eyes, her heart squeezing itself in painful agony over the fact that she basically got this poor, sweet girl murdered just because she was simply interested in her. (Y/n) pushed the box away with a pained expression. Her eyes looked at the last box she had to face.

She really didn’t want to open it. But she did anyway.

Taglist: @kpopgirlbtssvt @frankiethedarkangel @chezzywezzy @21stcenturywitchcraft @phinnyizcool @plaguerat44 @danokisser @kravitzwhore @ihavenorealfriendslol @4tft-again @tbzvity @alicefallsintotherabbithole @twilightdollie @librafilms @etherealweed @crabbyman @notevanpetersbuthisgf @urmomishawtashe11 @inksplattersblog @themartiansdaughter @lauftivy @sunnnyshark @ravendgie @paradox-brody-chase @neserinda @m1ndbrand

#the batman #the batman 2022 #reader insert #yandere edward nashton #edward nashton x reader #edward nashton imagine #edward nashton #the riddler x reader #the riddler #yandere #yandere riddler #paul dano riddler #paul dano #dano!riddler #bruce wayne #battinson #Batman #robert pattinson #dc

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niqhtlord01 · 3 years

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Humans are Weird: D&D Part 3

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps) Human Barbarian: I roll to decapitate the shop keeper. Alien DM: Is there a reason you keep on decapitating LITERALLY everyone you meet? Barbarian: My character can’t die unless he falls in battle. Alien DM: But they aren’t battles if you kill them in one blow. Barbarian: True, but my guy has been around for hundreds of years and now just kills people for fun. Alien DM: *Looks at other party members* Is this normal? Wizard: Honestly it’s pretty tame for a barbarian. Rogue: At least he’s not the bard that became a necromancer. Alien: What happened with them? Wizard: They became a necromancer just so they could woo the woman that killed herself after talking to him. Alien: *Looks at Necromancer* Really? Necromancer: I was very proud of my seduction streak and I wasn’t about to let death break it. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alien: Why do you always pick humanoid characters? Alien: Why not team up with something that is as large as a bear? Thief: We used to have a Loxodon fighter in the party, didn’t end well. Alien: What happened? Monk: We got trapped in a room flooding with water and only one way out. Warlock: The Loxodon insisted on going first through the doorway because they were afraid of water, but then became wedged in the tiny frame and couldn’t get free. Alien: How did you escape? Monk: We didn’t; we all drowned to death. Alien: If you all died then how are you here talking with me? Thief: Let’s just say we owe a man of questionable magic practices a lot of money. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Warrior: Wizard, cast fireball on my sword! Alien Wizard: Why? Warrior: So it will catch on fire and do fire damage as well! DM: I’ll allow it. Alien Wizard: Okay. *rolls a nat 20* DM: Your fireball impacts the sword dead on and melts it instantly. Warrior: What? DM: What do you think happens to cheap metal after it’s been super-heated? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

DM: As you sift through the remains of the now fallen lich lord you come across his most powerful weapon. Alien players: *getting excited* DM: A cursed blade slaked in the blood of a thousand thousand victims, each one adding their strength to whomever wields this mighty blade; the most powerful weapon you have ever come across. Alien players: *Really excited now* Alien warrior: Does it have a name? DM: *Nods* It is called……the Bunny Fluffer. Alien warrior: What? You can’t be serious. DM: I did say it was a curse blade. Alien: How can a blade called the “Bunny Fluffer” be cursed?!? DM: Every time you use it in battle you must loudly announce that you are attacking with the bunny fluffer. Alien warrior: You monster! That’s so evi- Alien warrior: *Now realizing why it is cursed* ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Human: If I feed a Locathah sushi, am I committing a hate crime or unknowingly making them a cannibal? Alien DM: WTF man?!?!? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Human DM: You find yourself in a very suspicious village. Alien: You can’t just label an entire town as suspicious. Human: Roll a perception check then. Alien: *Rolls 20* Human DM: You see the town square barren save for a giant stone slab at the very center, the surface of it covered in strange red glyphs that seem to bleed the longer you stare at it. Human DM: The towns people all full length cloaks that hide their appearance with hoods so deep you cannot make out a single detail of their faces. They speak no words nor make a sound as they shift and to and fro between the buildings. Human DM: You stare up at the sky and see it thick with grey clouds that appear to bulge and retract randomly as if they are holding something within. Alien: Alright, alright, we get it. Alien: No need to be so on the nose about it. Human: You walked passed a mass murder drenched in blood because one of you saw the bar tenders dog run outside and wanted to go pet it. Human DM: I take no chances now. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alien DM: You find yourself locked in the mansion, the body of the host laying across the ballroom floor as all the guests and staff look on. Alien DM: Any one of them could be the killer. Human Warlock: I say we lock all the doors and burn the house down. Human Paladin: What? Human Rogue: That’s a bit extreme. Warlock: Listen, I’ll cast a spell that will make anyone with a guilt free conscious fire resistant. Warlock: That way when the house is on fire only the killer will catch fire and everyone else would be safe. Rogue: I guess that might work…. Paladin: Still… Warlock: Look, I’ll even stay inside to prove how trust worthy it is while you all wait outside and bar the doors. Paladin: Very well. *some time later after the mansion burned down* *Party sees only the warlock remaining among the ashes* Paladin: Impossible! Paladin: They couldn’t all have been the killer! Warlock: True, but their minds were not guilt free so I’m afraid they caught fire. Rogue: So you knowingly just had us kill an entire mansion’s worth of people. Paladin: How are you still alive?! Warlock: Simple; I did not feel the slightest bit guilty about it. Warlock: *Proceeds to remove an artifact that collects the souls of the recently deceased* ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alien DM: Pick your characters. Human: I am a Halfling necromancer. Human 2: I am an elf necromancer. Human 3: I am a human necromancer. Alien: Seriously?! Alien: Does no one want to be something else? Human 4: I am an orc shaman. Alien: Well thank y- Human 4: That dabbles in necromancy. Alien: Gods damnit! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Human DM: And with that you have finally slain the great dragon Human DM: The town of Scabersburgs will forever be in your debt. Alien Wizard: That was a stupid encounter, let’s end it here. *Human DM makes note as the group leaves for the night* *Next week’s encounter* Human DM: You return to find the town of Scaversburg in the grips of a deadly plague. Human DM: The town’s folk are being driven mad as over the last few days many of them have begun growing scales across their body, talons where their fingers once were, and some have even begun sprouting lizard like wings and tails. Human DM: As they see you all return to the village their collective shouts of anger roar across the town as the entire city springs forth to hunt you down. Alien Wizard: Wait what!? Alien Wizard: I call bullshit; how could this suddenly happen?! Human DM: Well, if you had waited long enough to hear the dragons dying words he placed a powerful curse on his blood that any who should drink of it shall become as he once was. Alien Wizard: That’s still bullshit! Alien Wizard: No way the villagers would just walk up to a dead dragon and drink its blood. Human DM: Unless because you failed to dispose of the body the blood seeped into the ground and mixed with the towns water supply, thus contaminating everyone. *Group angrily looks at Wizard that encouraged them to leave early* Human DM: Roll for initiative. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alien DM: As you make camp deep within the frost mountains of Galgieth you find that your provisions bag has torn open and you have no food to eat. Alien DM: Unless you act quickly you will starve to death. Wizard: I got this. Wizard: *Turns to barbarian* Wizard: Cut off my left arm. Barbarian: Done! *rolls a nat 20* Alien DM: *Confused* You chop off the left arm of your wizard, the limb falling lifelessly to the ground as spouts of blood pour out. Wizard: I cast regeneration to regrow my severed limb. *Rolls a nat 20* Alien DM: *Still confused* Your left arm grows back as if it was never gone. Wizard: I put my severed limb over the open fire to cook. Alien DM: You want to turn your party into cannibals? Rogue: Wouldn’t be the first time.

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #funny #short #banter #dnd #d&d

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laufeyamp · 2 years

Text

President Loki Headcanons Part 2/?

HEADCANON SERIES. ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- SFW Alphabet, Part I, Part 2.

PAIRING. president!loki x gender neutral reader WORD COUNT. 0.879k

THIS WORK CONTAINS fluff, intense fluff, slightly smutty, swearing

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

he actually included the hickey request in your agreement on the following day, highlighted in bold-

*some other normal night in the Void* y/n: Good night. *ready to go to bed* President Loki: I think we missed out a truly important event, little one. y/n: ... What event? President Loki: My supper. *climbs on top of you* y/n: BE GENTLE WITH ME .

truthfully, he’s quite tender with you compared to what you’ve expected

instead of pinning your wrists and keeping them in place, he lets your hands wander across his body to your liking so that you’ll feel safe and comfortable

he literally takes hints and observes every facial expression and body language of yours

since he genuinely cares about you, he’ll feel extremely terrible if he accidentally hurts you which is the reason why he’s so careful

he definitely picks his spot, and a different spot every . single . time .

and also, every time he does it, he has to leave at least one special love bite on a less visible area

the last time you questioned why he said it’s only for him to view and you were like “okay I guess??”

just in case if you’re wondering about the heated kiss you both shared on the night he first bit you, neither of you brought up about it

but you both felt something different for each other, which you were both too blind to perceive what exactly was it

anyways as I was saying, he teases you whenever he notices how embarrassed you are

ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU ACCIDENTALLY MOAN

y/n: *moans* Mister President- *grasps onto his horns harder* President Loki: *smirks* What was that, kitten? y/n: *embarrassed af* N-Nothing. President Loki: *bites a little harder just to hear you moan his name again* y/n: *moans* President Loki: mhm, I thought I heard something. *still smirking*

he’d definitely shower you with kisses and praises every time he’s done which is your favourite part of the whole hickey session

he is super protective of you, and it’s getting a little too over

he would never let you go out alone and you must be home by sunset

he’s just worried of your safety another thing which he would never admit either

and you being that type of person who would literally drive your way into chaos and not notice it just makes stuff ten times worse

but he also forgets the fact that you’re pretty good at getting away with it too-

y/n: I CAN PROTECT MYSELF President Loki: y/n, we all know fair well that this is a lie. Remember when you were kidnapped and held hostage by some enemies of mine in the Void? And the other time when you- *proceeds to bring up about every time you get into trouble*

on top of all of that, there’s pretty much nothing you’re worried of since you knew he’d come to your rescue no matter what

he just shows up at the perfect timing which is when you’re an inch away from death with an army of men

you consider yourself quite lucky (?) to have someone who’d go out of his way for you

and you feel rather safe under his protection, to be honest

which is one of the reasons why you’re still sticking with this president who thirsts for power

President Loki: *makes a dramatic entrance* y/n: *rolls eyes* President Loki: Whoever dares lay a finger on what’s mine will have their hands cropped. *winks at you* y/n: *eye roll intensifies*

expect him to commit a gruesome murder with the target of every single person who’s involved if he finds a scratch on you

he’s so emotionally attached to you to the point where he’d start questioning how he feels towards you whenever he realizes how his blood runs cold when it comes to you

though for someone who believes that he’s destined to be alone, he wasn’t ready to confront his feelings, nor accept any of it

especially when he’s one of the candidates in a presidential election

which leads him to deny and ignore everything he feels for you dw he’ll figure it out soon

and about him wearing his horns 24/7-

so you barged into your room to grab an item of yours since the door wasn’t locked

and with your luck, you accidentally saw him without his horns when he just finished *cough* showering *cough*

he had his towel wrapped around his waist, water droplets on his bare chest and his greasy locks damp from the shower

he was well, truth to be told, far more built up than what you’ve pictured him to be

I MEAN JUST LOOK AT HIS TIDDIES

President Loki: *teases* Enjoy what you’re watching, pet? y/n: *cough* I was just- *averts gaze* President Loki: *smirks* I’m listening. y/n: -just thinking if you’d have your horns on too when you’re in a shower. President Loki: *chuckles* Is that so? y/n: *stutters nervously* Y-Yeah. *looks at anywhere but his abs* Where else do you uhm, think I would be looking at? President Loki: ... y/n: ... y/n: *glances at his tiddies very quickly* President Loki: CAUGHT IN ACTION. y/n: ... god damn it. *doesn’t even try to hide the fact that you’re staring anymore*

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

SYD .ೃ࿐ Reblogs and interactions are greatly appreciated, thank you for reading.

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breanime · 3 years

Note

“I’d do anything for you” with Miguel Galindo as a sequel to the You Get Shot Drabble. Need some fluff after the trauma in the first part 😭

Part One

*gif not mine*

It had only been a few weeks since you’d taken a bullet for Miguel, and you were already feeling much better. You were still sore, especially around the wound, and you had to slow down considerably, but you were feeling just fine. In the spirit of transparency, Miguel had let you in on his retaliation for your pain (it involved a LOT of trips to his pew and apparently the untimely demise of a goldfish?), but his rampage was thankfully reaching a conclusion. Still, even with all the murder that he was ordering/committing for you, Miguel still made time to be with you.

“Baby,” you sighed, smiling as you took the food tray Miguel brought you, “I told you, I can do these things myself.”

“I know you can,” he reached over and pressed a loving kiss to your forehead, “but I’m here, so you don’t have to.” He looked down at you from your place on the sofa, taking in your relaxed stance, “How are you feeling, mi amor?”

“Good,” you answered, “really good. I’m excited to start physical therapy tomorrow.”

“From 11 to 11:45,” he nodded, “I’ve already confirmed her arrival time.”

You laughed, “Sit with me.”

Miguel was more than happy to fulfill your request. Since you’ve been home, Miguel had taken to cuddling you whenever he could. It wasn’t like him; Miguel wasn’t huge on PDA, and he didn’t like any distractions when he worked, but then again, that was before you’d had a life-altering event happen. Now, he always wanted to be near you, touching you. He would work with you in his lap, or with your legs draped over him, anything to have you close. Now, he shifted you on the couch so he could hold you, and you pressed your face into the crook of his neck, inhaling his expensive, personal cologne.

“You’re really going to do the session with me?” You asked, referring to your physical therapy.

“Of course,” he answered, “My plan is to learn as much as I can from the therapist so I can help you myself.”

“Miguel,” you smiled at your loving husband, “Baby, you don’t have to do all that.”

“It’s not a problem,” he answered easily, his chocolate eyes melting with love and devotion as he gazed down at you, “I’d do anything for you, mi amor. Anything.”

You leaned over and kissed him, his mouth warm and soft against yours. Miguel had been especially gentle with you since the shooting, and tonight was no exception. He held you carefully, his touch tender and reverent, kissing you gently as you melted in his embrace. The two of you were having a lot more days like this recently, slow and loving days, days where Miguel would walk away from his desk early just to have time to sit with you. You knew he had been scared out of his mind when you got hurt, and you had taken notice of how deliberate he was being with his time now; he still had to work, of course, but Miguel was considerably more aware of how much time had passed without him touching you, and he didn’t like for it to be over three hours, if he could help it. He had almost lost you, and he didn’t want to lose a single second with you.

“I love you, Miguel,” you sighed against his lips.

“I love you too,” he said back, his warm hand on your cheek, his wedding ring cool on your skin.

This was where you were both meant to be, safe, at home—and together. And Miguel, you knew, was doing everything within his considerable power to make sure things would stay that way. You also knew that, after the massacre that he’d started in your honor, the chances of anyone attacking either of you ever again was slim to none.

You were where you were meant to be.

***********************************************************************

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#miguel galindo #miguel galindo imagine #miguel galindo x reader #bre's follow up follower event #breanime's follow up follower event

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