#heard too many horror stories about girls getting hurt
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Watermelon Sugar
Eddie Munson x Fem Reader
summary: Eddie shows you the eight wonder of the world. his mouth.
warnings: reader and eddie are 18+, established relationship, fluff, Eddie being a munch. nicknames/pet names used (baby, honey, sweetheart, etc.) MINORS DNI 18+ smut: fem oral receiving, blowjobs mentioned, talks of past sexual experiences, praise/body worship, swearing. *Skin Color/Ethnicity not mentioned! not proofread, spelling errors and horrible writing.
if I miss anything plz lmk!
a/n: hello my loves! thank you all for the kind words and reactions on my last couple of posts! as you all know smut is not my forte but I felt the need to write this. am I projecting??? maybe but we’re gonna pretend that i'm not :)
The low hum of Steve Nicks’ voice plays through Eddie’s room, the soundtrack of your makeout session with your boyfriend. Orange glow from the late afternoon sun comes through the window, an angelic glow casting around the frizz of the mentalhead’s hair.
It started as an innocent day, hanging out together in a comfortable silence in his room. Him doodling in his notebook and you flipping through one of his old comic books. Somewhere along the way a featherlight touch turned into shared giggles, sitting in his lap turned into a chaste kiss, and it ended up with him in between your parted knees, kissing like his life depended on it.
A curtain of curls block out the skylight, tender lips on yours like melted honey, and big hands roaming down the expanse of your body. When Eddie moves away from your mouth, he takes the oxygen from your lungs with him and you whimper at the loss.
"Gonna let me have a taste of you, pretty girl?" Big doe eyes shine down to you, way too eager and excited. Your stomach twists into knots, the training you put yourself through in case of this moment, has all been for nothing. What do you say to the man that hovers over you with so much love in his eyes?
"How about I suck you off instead, hmm?" You try to come off as sensual but instead you sound scared.
It's an offer that you've made so many times over the short course of your relationship with Eddie. This was your first real relationship besides the eight grade love affair you had with Simon Willard. That only lasted a week.
You weren't anywhere near a virgin, that so called sacred part of yourself is now in the possession of a random boy you met on vacation before your senior year. Hookups weren't uncommon to you but what was uncommon to you was the affection you received during the sex.
People you've hooked up with never really cared to get you nice and ready the way Eddie does, prepping you with two or more fingers, working you open so that it doesn't hurt going in. Guys didn't care if you got off or not, they were just looking for a hole to fill and someone who wouldn't get clingy.
You had guy friends, including Eddie before you started dating, and you heard the horror stories they had of going down on a girl. It was never in mean spirit, although the discussion should've stayed in the bedroom, but it still scared you shitless. How one girl didn't properly take care of herself, causing the smell to be rancid. This girl didn't wipe the right way, leaving scraps of toilet paper down there. And the one that really settled itself into your brain, was how good or bad a girl tasted.
Of course you, and all of your guy friends, knew that girls didn't taste like ice cream, or strawberries, or candy. It was made up, another bullshit beauty standard for woman to worry about.
You had paid attention to the way guys would ask you if you wanted it done. The way they would sigh and roll their eyes like it was the biggest task of their lives. You would end up telling them that you're more of a giver than receiver, and that you just weren't interested in that whole thing. When they would release a breath of relief you would fill with shame, almost like you were the one who requested it to be done and had been turned down. The embarrassment of rejection you didn't even ask for.
So when you and Eddie first had sex as boyfriend and girlfriend, you made it your mission to never let that horrid question come from his mouth. You always made sure to offer him head first, and if it looked like he was about to ask, you'd simply tell him you couldn't wait anymore.
Now here you are, under him, ready and willing to take him in your mouth, and he's gotten the question out before you could beat him to the punch.
"Ya know I will never say no to that, sweetheart. But-"
Uh oh. That's the word that comes before a life or death sentence. It's hanging heavy over you, the once comfortable silence is now killing you. Squeezing all of the air out of your body, limbs going numb with the loss of circulation, all the while your ears ring like an explosion has gone off.
"I want to return the favor." It's so sincere when he says it and it makes you want to cry. A boyish smile taking over his mouth, deep dimples appearing on the fat of his cheeks.
You must look like you've seen a ghost because the pretty smile that was written on his face is now taken over by worry.
"I mean, I don't have to. It's just- I feel like," Eddie's a panicked mess, backing his face further away from your own. The small bubble of love that the two of you created has now been popped with your own doubts and fears.
"I don't want to make you uncomfortable, I just thought I could make you feel good s'all." The confident man that you know all too well is now reduced to a fumbling and anxious person. His fingers work at the chunky silver ring on his finger, twisting and twisting and twisting it around.
"You just always, I don't know. It just always seems like you never ask for head and I just wanted to offer it to you, I guess."
The whiskey eyes that never left your gaze won't even look at you anymore. Focusing on that damn ring that goes faster and faster the longer you wait to respond. You want to run and hide. Dig a deep hole and never come out. Your lovely boyfriend who's done nothing but treat you like the queen of the goddamn universe, now thinks he's made you uncomfortable.
Embarrassment rushes through your veins, throat closing with the grip of shame making it harder to breathe. Tears prick your eyes, hot and heavy, ready to fall at the drop of a dime. You feel so guilty for not just telling him the truth, for not saying all the concerns that you had. Even before you started dating Eddie always confided in you, telling you the deepest secrets that kept him up at night and you couldn't even tell him this one thing.
"I'm embarrassed." It comes out in a sniffle, lip wobbling beneath the teeth that hold it down, trying to make it go away.
"I'm just embarrassed I won't be good. That I'll be another conversation for you and the boys to drink to. Will I taste good? Do I smell weird? Does it look pretty? All of these questions circle my brain and I'm so fucking scared that you won't like me anymore." It comes out like word vomit, so fast and uneven in tone that you're not sure if it even made sense.
You don't have time to think it over anyway, Eddie's too quick putting his hands on your cheeks, gently making you look up at him. The same kind eyes that you always see meet yours. Thumbs gentle swipe the fat tears off of your face, his cold hands extinguish the flames of your skin.
"Honey, I promise you I would never, ever do some dumb shit like that. What the guys and I talk about is irrelevant, half the time they don't even know what they're talking about. I felt the same way when you wanted to suck me off the first time, every single question you ask yourself is what I ask myself." Eddie's eyes are searching yours, looking and waiting to see the dread leave your head.
"Like I said before, I would never want you to be uncomfortable but if you're okay with it, I'd really," He places a gentle kiss on your forehead, "really," he continues to place more delicate kisses around your face, "really love to make you feel so fucking good."
When he's done, he looks back down to you with a dopey smile, he's low and hazy drunk off of you. A smile tugs on your own lips, so warm and fuzzy off of him. You know he means it and you feel sad that you even questioned him. Childish laughter rings out between the two of you when he pinches your sides, tickling out the stiffness in your body.
When the laughter dies down, he asks you again by cocking his eyebrow up in question. Nodding your head, you give him a confident yes, something you didn't feel the first time he asked.
Moving down your body, trails of kisses are left on your skin, mapping out his journey to your center. When he reaches the hem of your pants, he looks up to you once more waiting for a reply. Encouraging him to go further, his chilled fingers douses the warmth radiating off of you.
Leaving you only in your polka dot designed panties, Eddie teases you by running his fingers up and down your thighs.
"I gotta say bub, I love the pink dots. Top notch fashion if I don't say so myself." Eddie jokes and it makes you giggle. Swatting lightly at him, he returns the laughter.
"I'm not lying, I swear! If only you know what you do to me." As much of a joker Eddie is, he was never one to joke about your beauty. He found everything you did, said, and wore so fucking breathtaking and flawless, he'd probably get hard from the sight of you in a Tin Man costume.
"If you, at any time, want me to stop just tell me. I won't get mad, just let me know, okay?" Eyebrows scrunched with seriousness, Eddie makes sure to be loud and clear with his instructions.
"I promise, Eds." You say and he takes that as the green light.
Eddie's index finger teases your cloth slit, running up and down so slowly it feels like torture. When you lift your hips looking for more friction he snorts lightly.
"Patience, my love." His fingers continue to dance over your panties, running back to the top of the band and pulling them down in a swift motion.
When the cool air hits your wet seat, you whimper slightly at the feeling. Eddie has seen your pussy multiple times, but when he spreads it with his fingers, you can't help but feel shy, closing your legs around his arm.
"Don't go shy on me, baby. I just wanna see the prettiest picture I've ever seen." His eyes are still trained on the glistening of your sex, glimmering like bright pools of water.
It feels like an hour of no movement from Eddie before he goes to change his position between your legs. Shuffling back on his knees, he picks your thighs up to place on his shoulders as he lays on his stomach.
Still having doubts, you lean up on your elbows, watching your boyfriend to see what his reaction is. To your surprise, he looks like a kid in a candy store, awe and wonder swimming around in the big brown pools of his eyes.
When an obscene sniff rings through the air, you can't help but cringe a little. Waiting for him to look repulsed, you're again astonished when all your met with is a feral look.
Very tentatively, he runs his flat tongue from your hole to the top of your clit. Moaning deeply, he moves his gave up to you. A smirk breaks out on his features, so devilishly and mischievously.
"Oh baby, you have no fucking clue how good you taste." There is no questioning in his cadence. It's smug and cocky and it makes you shiver with need.
Repeating his motions from before, you mewl at the feeling, lifting your hips again. The chuckle that comes from Eddie vibrates off of you, make you move you squirm. Reaching his strong hands around your thighs, he holds you in place with his firm grip.
When the wet muscle breaches your needy hole, you fall back onto the bed moaning out in pleasure. He works your open with it, flicking it in and out efficiently.
Pulling out of you, he moves up to your bundle of nerves. Starting slowly, he circles around once or twice, before working it in figure eights.
You melt into the bed like a popsicle on a hot summers day. There's not a single thought in your head other than the feeling of his mouth. You're a livewire come to life, so sensitive and lost in the haze of pleasure.
You think this is the precipice of ecstasy but then one of his thick fingers enter you and his mouth sucks hard on your pulsing clit.
It feels like fireworks on the fourth of July, bright and explosive, big loud bangs ringing out into the night sky. It's like the feeling of going down the big drop on a rollercoaster, tingling deep in your belly and a rush of adrenaline pumping through your veins. It's like winning first place, heartwarming and shocking all at the same time.
You feel all these things at the same time, every single one of them caused by the actions of your boyfriends mouth. It's overwhelming and so fucking delicious but you can't say anything than cry out in bliss.
Letting go of your clit with a pop, Eddie's head pokes up at you like an excited puppy. "S'it feel good baby?" You want to answer, you really do but the way he sneaks a second finger into you and crooks them at the perfect angle makes you lose all motor skills.
"Awe, honey" he coos mockingly, "Is it that good?"
"S'good Eds, so good." You're a blubbering, crying mess. So hooked on the feeling of him, hooking on the feeling of how he made you feel.
He doesn't say anything else, too busy pushing his face back between your legs. His motions go faster, fingers hitting that sweet spot inside of you that he only managed to find, his mouth switching between motions, driving you closer to the edge as he does.
The string in your belly is pulling tighter and tighter, barley hanging together by a thread. You're a thrashing, sweaty mess on his bed, gripping the pillow underneath your head that your knuckles will probably be stuck in that position. You don't care, not when he's moving his head back and forth, slurping up your wetness like a handmade milkshake.
It's filthy, down right dirty the way it sounds. The noises that carry out into his room echo so loud the neighbors could probably hear. The squelch of your wetness being pounded into by his hand, the way he's drinking you up like a dehydrated plant, the moans that escape out of your parted lips.
"Eddie, please. FUCK, please." You're blathering at him, not even sure at what you're asking for.
Separating himself from you again, he continues working his fingers deep into you.
"You wanna cum, pretty girl? S'that it? Wanna cum all over my fingers?" You moan louder in response, clenching around him harder as you do.
"Go ahead, be a good good and cum for me. Come on, honey. Cum for me." That's all you need to hear before you're hurtling off the edge of your release.
You release with a silent cry, all the air being punched right out of you. Your body feels weightless, like you were thrown up into the clouds and not being able to come down.
Your whole body shakes, tears streaming down your face, all while your hole pulses and quivers around Eddie's fingers. A gush of wetness coats his fingers, a big puddle under your ass, leaving another stain on his bed seats.
He watches in awe as you hit your peak, how your back arches off of the bed and how you look so fucking perfect like this. The shy girl that never got experience this kind joy, now swims in the ocean of euphoria of the climax. He feels so lucky to witness this, to be the first and last person to ever see you this vulnerable.
Eddie wishes he could paint this moment, make a portrait of the way your kiss bitten lips form the perfect O, make the brushstrokes of your hair and some of it sticks to your sweaty face. You're so beautiful and he doesn't know how blessed to be yours.
When you float back down to earth, to the springy mattress of Eddie's, you take a moment to catch your breath. When he removes his fingers from you, you weakly hiss from movement and he offers a quiet sorry.
Moving back up to his knees, he hovers over you and smiles brightly down at you. Smiling weakly back at you, he uses the hand that's not supporting his weight to place it on your jaw. His thumb brushes back and forth and you melt right into it.
"How was that?" Pink tints his cheeks, grinning ear to ear.
You chuckle weakly, shaking your head in disbelief.
"I think I went to outer space for a second there."
A booming laugh leaves his chest and it makes you smile even harder. Your heart feels so full and so happy. You're so in love with him and it makes you delirious. You want to see him like this for the rest of your life, big smiles and even big laughter, so pretty and delicate only for you.
"Well I'm glad you enjoyed yourself there, space cadet." Leaning down to press his lips to yours, your soak in the feeling of it. When he moves away you pout at him, and he bops you on the nose with his finger.
"I was thinkin' I could return the favor, big boy." You whisper seductively.
"Oh baby, that sounds wonderful but-," He makes eye contact with you, "I need to be in you like yesterday because that, right there was the hottest thing I've ever witness."
"I happen to be a romantic. So I shall wait until my fair maiden is okay to resume our activities." Closing his eyes with pride, he places a hand on his heart.
Hiding your face with your hands, you bust out laughing at his little antics and when you peek between his fingers you see his teeth flashing back at you. Removing your hands from your face, you tuck a loose tendril behind his ear.
"You're a dork, but that sounds good to me."
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Thank you all for reading! I loves you all and hope you enjoyed!!!
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#eddie munson smut#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x you#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson fic
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𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞
Pairing | Yandere Jungkook x Reader
Word Count | 1,529
Warnings | +18, detailed descriptions of punishment, spanking, Jungkook is obsessed and angry, smut dubcon(?), fingering, male masturbation, forced cum consumption
This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.
Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.
⤷ Summary | If she had paid attention earlier to the sin that dwelt behind those obsidian irises, she would never have trusted it.
If she had noticed earlier the devouring love that dwelled in his corrupt heart, she probably would have fled.
She had done none of that, and now she had to come to terms with her new reality.
➢ Author's Note | Fifth chapter ready! Let me know what you think of the story or if you would like to be added to the taglist, i would be really happy!
Taglist: @katherine-kookie, @douknowbts, @aiiselle90210, @fewercascade
Taglist is open!
Chapter List - I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII / The End
It had been exactly four days, Y/N had been locked in that room crying, eating what she had to eat so as not to upset Jungkook, but the sadness and disgust were still there.
She still couldn't tell if it was for him or for herself.
He spent those nights as tense as a violin string, going to work during the day and hermetically locking the front door, and at night he heard her crying and that upset him. But he had factored that in as well, Jimin had explained to him how the first few days had gone.
"It's going to be hard, but if you love her you'll have to put up with it," the blond man in the principal's office had told him, while Seokjin just listened, typing occasionally on his phone.
"I hate to see her so dejected, I'm the cause and that hurts me," he had hissed with his head clenched in his hands, Jimin had denied it with his head, totally frosty.
"You are just too sensitive, she has to get used to a new way of life and certain reactions are more than normal, my wife had tried to kill me if you remember well, so consider yourself lucky," he scolded him.
"Besides," Seokjin exclaimed, "her parents reported her missing and everyone thinks something happened to her, even the neighborhood she lived in was a good cover, don't think of stopping just now."
Jungkook nodded, before freezing.
"What about Kang Yoozu?" he asked, threateningly.
Jimin let go of an icy smile, "You don't have to worry about him anymore, with the material you provided me, there will be fun to be had."
A few days later, Jungkook understood his friend's words, it was all over the news that Kang Yoozu, age twenty-three, had kidnapped and most likely tortured the now missing Y/N.
It had only taken a few rumors put out there and a lock of the girl's hair found in the student's backpack to set off alarm bells.
Jungkook thought Jimin had done a masterful job; everyone knew about Yoozu's bullying of Y/N, and as Jungkook had said at the beginning, it was those like Yoozu who had no loyal friends.
At the dinner table that evening, Jungkook avoided turning on the television, not wanting the girl to see anything inherent in her disappearance; she seemed upset enough to the boy, so he asked her how she felt.
"Like someone who hasn't seen the light of day for almost a week," she hissed, listlessly moving the contents of her plate.
"When I'm sure I can trust you, I'll take you for walks," he tried to appease her, but at those words Y/N huffed blatantly, which the man did not like.
"Y/N."
"Jungkook?" she wryly made, openly challenging him after days of unexpressed discontent, "I'm not even allowed to complain, professor?"
The ass-grabbing behind that title pissed him off, and he jerked out of his chair and marched toward her with an expression that was anything but sweet and patient, as it had always been until moments before.
Y/N caught the danger signal and tried to evade him, but Jungkook was quicker and caught her lifting her off the ground as if she had been a feather, at which point the girl screamed and full-throated, kicking in his direction, intimidating him to put her down, terrified by the man's sudden change.
Jungkook was not frightened by her hysterical threats, after all, there were not even neighbors who could hear them, and he flung her onto the living room sofa, the girl ended up between the cushions on all fours, tried to get up so she could stare openly into his eyes, but Jungkook imposed that position on her by crushing her with his own weight, in fear she felt the young man's hands lift the fabric of the skirt he had given her that day, she tried to crawl away, but once again she was blocked by him, a strong hand of the man held her head still against the cushions.
She shuddered in shock when her panties were also brutally lowered onto her thighs, she felt so much embarrassment that she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to extricate herself.
"Rule number one, Y/N, don't ever use that tone with me," he hissed furiously, before his free hand came down on a soft buttock of the young woman, who squealed in shock and pain at the searing lash, the dry sound lost in the room along with her voice.
Jungkook settled down better behind her, taking sadistic pleasure in seeing his imprint getting darker and darker on her tender and delicate skin, "Rule number two, finish your meal without complaining like a naughty and rude child," he hit the same area of skin with an even more deafening spanking than the previous one, the girl wriggled in tears under his body, Jungkook felt the blood run miles through his veins, his cock now throbbing in his pants at that fantastic sight. Adrenaline raced through his body, painfully clutching Y/N's hair in its hard grip.
"Rule number three, never question what I say to you in that insolent way!" he continued to hit her repeatedly on the other side as well, ignoring the tears now soaking the cushions of his couch or the girl's constant attempt to slip away from his blows, writhing.
He stopped only when the girl began to give in, begging him to stop.
"P-Please stop!" she screamed against the fabric of the cushions, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'll be good, I won't misbehave anymore," she continued, Jungkook pulled away slightly, watching with hungry eyes the buttocks now red and irritated by his punishing blows, the girl's body trembling, shaken by sobs and whimpers.
"Ah..." he sighed, "My love," he murmured bending over her, tenderly kissing the skin now burned and alive with pain, the girl tried to block her sobs, feeling only more discomfort at the boy's attentions, who not content left a long trail of saliva from the abused area to the column of her back, stopping shortly after at a corner of her neck, Y/N shuddered, feeling him push the covered cock against her buttocks which, if possible, burned even more.
Jungkook sucked and bit the skin of her neck expertly, Y/N did not have the strength to evade, not even when one of the man's hands descended on her pussy .
"Since you get it... you deserve a reward, don't you?" he highlighted those sick words of his with another thrust of his pelvis, "I'm going to make you feel so good, love," he moaned, running two fingers along the folds of the girl, who widened her eyes at the same time Jungkook did, finding her soaking and quivering, "Fuck. .. you liked it," he laughed surprised, Y/N instead wanted to disappear, tried to stop her moans by sealing her lips, shocked by that new realization, but she tensed at the rhythmic and insistent movement of the fingers around her taut and shiny clitoris, no ... it couldn't be true.
She could not feel pleasure at such a time, with such a boy!
But her body thought otherwise when the man's fingers tapped on her clitoris, which contracted and forced the girl's hips to push against the young man's hand involuntarily, seeking a more direct and steady touch.
She opened her mouth wide for air, but was only able to gasp for breath, only causing Jungkook to increase the speed of his intimate caresses, reaching up to penetrate her lightly with the tip of his fingertips, Y/N stiffened writhing wordlessly, her brain now mush thinking only of finding more friction, which Jungkook granted her with a kiss in her hair, slipping his fingers from her tight slit to move up toward her clit, rubbing on the now overly sensitive pearl, he expertly pinched one last time before and Y/N let out a choked scream that confirmed her orgasm, which continued to shake her body for endless minutes.
Now almost fainting in his arms, Jungkook turned her body over, lost himself in looking at her distraught face before glancing at her soaked red intimacy, biting his lip, god he couldn't take it anymore.
He began to unbuckle the belt from his pants, releasing the thick, throbbing cock without lowering anything else, reached up to the young girl's tear- and saliva-wet lips, running the already wet tip of white, shiny cum over them, cupped his hand several times over the velvety, warm skin of his cock, continued to pump himself, moaning loudly, he accompanied the gestures with sloppy, slick movements of his hips, Y/N barely registered the boy's actions, too shocked by what had happened, a choked scream escaped her throat as a warm, foreign-tasting substance poured onto her face and hair, a few drops managed to enter her mouth as well, only later did she realize what it was.
Jungkook slipped two fingers into her mouth, filling her with his cum, forcing it to the back of her throat, which made the girl swallow for air.
"My beautiful girl is also a perfect slut for my cock."
#bts#bts fanfiction#bts smut#bts x reader#yandere bts#yandere bts x reader#yandere jungkook x reader#yandere jungkook#bts yandere smut#yandere bts smut#jungkook x reader#bts fanfic#yandere#yandere jeongguk#jeongguk x reader#jeon jungkook x reader
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Boss
Let’s be honest I am around booktok too much, but mmmmhm vampires, amirite?
Fandom: Original Content
Pairings: Yandere!Vampire x GN!Reader
Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Innuendos, Violence (Biting Mention, Death Mention off-screen, Whipping Mention, Blood Mention), Slavery in terms of vampires being superior over humans, Mention of selling blood for services, “Blood Virgins/Blood Mates”, Reader gets brought up under cult-like circumstances, Reader is supposed to get auctioned off
Prompt: @sintember
Taboo - Polite, civilised people don’t do these sorts of things. But some choose not to care.
»»———————— ♡ ————————««
The sound of laughter and glasses clinking together reached you.
A bustle of noise, hushed voices, and polite questions echoed through the room. You were all the more receptive to it, with your eyes blindfolded and your senses sharpening. The air was heavy with cigar smoke and flowery perfumes, and despite not being able to see, you felt a strong light shine down on you as you kneeled on the floor, two burly men standing next to you and keeping you sitting upright.
Even though you knew what was going to happen, you gulped, feeling nervous.
You had waited for this day for the better part of your—still young—life. Your coming of age had been ritualized and celebrated, and you were washed, clothed, and prepared for the occasion. Many nights you had wished the day would never come. The other girls and boys you grew up with and lived with until your early adulthood, liked to tell horror stories about your future as much as they liked to romanticize all of it.
"Ladies and gentlemen, revered guests!" The booming voice coming close to you made you flinch, tearing you out of your memories. You had been waiting for this moment all your life, but it still surprised you, perhaps a given without being able to see. The voices around you slowly died down, a few last laughs being exchanged before the room got quiet, and you heard your heartbeat quicken, resulting in a constant thrumming in your head.
"We've come together today to decide the fate of our lovely blood virgin!"
Fingers brushed beneath your jaw, urging you to let your head fall back and show your neck. The touch of who you assumed must have been the auctioneer was almost reverently gentle, which made sense for ware as precious as you were. Truth be told, you never thought of yourself as especially pretty or incredibly clever. Still, the delightful moans going through the crowd as you presented your perfectly unscathed neck went straight to your ego, tingling your core and sending heat to your head which seemed to rouse the people's passion even more.
People might have been a stretch. In a world ruled by vampires, someone like you—a blood virgin, unbitten and kept locked away until you were ripe to be sold—was a delicacy. Usually, every remaining human had a bite or a dozen on them, selling their blood for loans and protection. Even your instructors had them, and you weren't shielded from the ugly truths about how much biting hurt and how humans were barely better than cattle to vampires. That was, frankly said, what scared you.
Someone like you, who was prepared from childhood to be property, had no rights and no means of saving yourself from what was to come. Sure, the other blood virgins liked to dream about being taken in as personal blood slaves to some wealthy, handsome vampires that would spoil them and treat them as well as a human could be expected to be treated. But you didn't believe in that. You only believed in the screams you heard as you walked to the room your big sister had been brought to after her auction. No one had stood guard, and you fearfully took a glimpse through the keyhole. Only to hear gurgles and see… blood. So much blood.
Your sister never came back.
Even when they tried to tell you she was merely taken to the vampire that bought her, you didn't believe it after what you saw. And you didn't believe there was any hope for you either. When the touch of the auctioneer slipped beneath the velvety blindfold, you wished you could have kept it on. You didn't want to see the faces of murderers enjoying their lives. You didn't want to see the vampire that would take you from your home. You had been trained for this occasion your whole life, but in the end, you weren't ready.
No matter how well they had whipped good behavior into your body, you couldn't do it. When the blindfold lifted from your face, appreciative murmurs going through the mass below the stage, your world seemed to slow down. For a few seconds, your anxiety made everything come to a halt as you breathed heavily. The spotlight shining down on you hurt your eyes, and you couldn't see anything really, in the darkness below the stage you were on. But in a moment of fear-induced clarity, you knew this was your only chance. The only moment they didn't expect you to act.
Before you could think it through, you bolted.
Slipped right out of the guards' grip and pushed aside the gentle auctioneer, not even having seen that man's face if he even was one. Your feet lost their footing as you couldn't see where the stage ended, dropping you off the edge into soft but smelly carpet floor. Your body was pounding blood through it, making it thrum in your ears and filling you with adrenaline. The sound of the crowd gasping in surprise barely reached you as your mind was filled with the symphony of your body and the desire to escape.
You got up before anyone could reach you in time, just running forward despite not seeing anything in the darkness yet. Vaguely, the humanoid shapes of the guests darted by you as you hoped to reach the end of the room to escape it. You'd not end up like your sister. That was your only thought as you hurled your body into a door, fumbling to find a door handle to push it open.
This wasn't normal. You shouldn't have to accept your fate as cattle for vampires, a blood bank for just one night. Even if all your life led up to this moment, no one should have the right to treat you as less than worthy of living. It was insane to just sit and wait for someone to buy you so they could drink your blood and kill you when they had no use for you anymore. You never even kissed someone, much less experienced the world outside of the walls of the monastery where you were kept!
Finally, you managed to push the door open, slipping out the smallest gap you managed to pry open while you felt dozens of hands reach for you from behind. Hungry, greedy hands wanting to pull you back and devour you with hair and skin. They didn't care if you got hurt or even if you were still alive when they got to you, but now that you broke the most important rule—absolute obedience—you were free game. Monsters. All of them!
But you did it! You escaped them! And as you threw the door back in its lock behind you, a smile of relief painted your lips, knowing you made it. Your body's ache returned as you blindly ran into solid matter, forcing you to stumble back against the door as the way forward was blocked off. Not even your hands could have saved you from the wall right where you slipped out, and your senses slowly returned, the adrenaline running dangerously low now that you felt accomplished. Behind you, growly, angry vampires crashed into the wood, shaking the door and slamming their fists into it, no one managing to actually open the exit in their frenzy. All while you stayed still as a mouse, listening to their curses and then a tongue clicking right before you.
"Well-behaved and trained blood slaves don't act this way, you know? Running and creating a fuss. For what? You think you can outrun them?"
You flinched as someone crashed into the wood at your back, the man talking to you taking a step forward, caging you between him and the door, keeping the exit barred with his strength. No, once again, this was no man. With a soothing, deep voice and an expensive scent coming from him, he couldn't be human. Hesitantly, you allowed yourself to look up from beneath your lashes, the spare lightning in the hallway barely enough to illuminate all of his body. Expensive metal accessories decorated him, throwing back the light at you, but the rest was coated in darkness with only the red of his eyes shining through.
It might have been naive to think you could escape, but at least, you had nothing to lose now.
"Civilized and decent beings wouldn't auction off blood virgins into their death."
"Oh?" he hummed, amused by you speaking back. Even if your voice was barely more than a whisper and a shaky one at that, your words seemed to have reached him. Inwardly, however, you cringed. Talking back to a vampire was a big no-no, and this taboo had been burned into your very soul. Even though... you had to admit it felt kind of good to finally speak your mind. You felt his hand fall to your hair, letting the strands you had been forced to grow out, glide through his fingers, his touch running cold shudders down your spine. Without being able to see him properly and predict his movements, everything felt so much worse again, like you were back on the stage, blindfolded and devoted to your duty.
"But we don't kill our blood virgins, you know?" he tried to explain, but it only made you angrier. Of course, he'd say that.
"Liar!" you barked, surprising yourself at how strong the word left you. But you meant it, and seeing him recoil in surprise for a split second felt like a victory. If you could at least shock one of them before your inevitable death, you already achieved more than most blood virgins.
"I am not a liar," he hissed, leaning forward and pressing his body into yours. "I can't speak for everyone, but a blood virgin is a commitment forever. Once we drink the blood of one, it's the only blood we'll want, and they become our blood mates for the rest of their lives. Do you understand?"
Your mind was fighting against you to believe him, but somehow, his words sounded more genuine than you expected them to be. He spoke them with pride and conviction. Clearly, he could be lying, his honeyed voice trying to soothe you for the bite, but why would he say these things then?
"It's an obsession, pure delightful need that we want to constantly satisfy. You humans would call it… love? We want our blood mates to always be around us, and no one is allowed to touch or taste them except us. Much less kill them, little human."
"I…" you mumbled, trying to process the information you were given. But all of this didn't change your mind about the whole thing. "I don't want that… I would rather die than be someone's property like this."
"We'll see about that," he huffed, his hand gripping your arm as he pulled you back into his chest, finally allowing the door to open, bodies falling out of it that you assumed were the staff members. They groaned and slowly got up, but their sounds fell silent just as quickly, and a voice you recognized as the auctioneer perked up, hesitantly addressing the man that pressed you against his body.
"S-Sir! What a pleasure to see you! We had a small hiccup, but the auction will resume any second now!"
"No need," he waved him off, and you felt his cold hand grip the clothes you were wearing, giving off a possessive vibe. "I will take this one for myself. The auction is off; you can send everyone home."
"B-But, Boss…" the auctioneer stammered, and your eyes widened, body tensing as goosebumps erupted all over your skin hearing the auctioneer call this man his boss. Without much regard for the poor auctioneer left to handle all the angry guests grumbling behind him, you were dragged away by the auction boss, the one in charge of raising and selling the blood virgins. The most evil one of them all.
And as you stared into his face, occasionally lit by the lights in the hallway and too handsome for such a creature, no signs of aging or care about anything other than his selfish desires, his eyes found yours, a grin curling on his lips.
"We'll see if you'll still refuse to be mine when I give you pleasure beyond what you'll ever know. One you'll never get from anyone but me, Darling."
#vampire#vampires#vampire x reader#yandere vampire#yandere#yandere imagines#yandere headcanons#yandere scenarios#yandere fanfiction#yandere writing#yandere stories#yandere oneshots#yandere oneshot#yandere drabble#yandere x reader#yandere x darling#Yandere TW#yandere!vampire#Sintember 2022#OW
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so. got an idea for Another fnaf au, one that i like to call "Elizabeth's Toybox of Horrors"
@that-darn-clown if you're interested :]
long story short: Adrian died in Circus Baby instead of Elizabeth. viewing her brother as too much of a scaredy cat, she encourages him to get closer to Baby, only for him to get grabbed and killed instead. this still starts the domino effect of the fnaf timeline (well, my timeline, anyway) happening.
Liz practically becomes a shadow of who she once was. the bubbly, outgoing girl becomes quiet, withdrawn. the death of many children she and her brothers considered friends certainly didn't help. neither do the nightmares.
the day before they would go missing, Cassidy would pop by the Afton residence to give Elizabeth the plushie meant for her brother's birthday. she thanks them for it.
Cassidy never comes by the house again after that (at least, not alive, anyway...).
Elizabeth gains a morbid fascination for the animatronics, the very things that stole her brother from her (the brother she got killed, the brother she watched die before her very eyes). she'd watch the animatronics for hours on end, hardly moving. heck, even more, she sneaks into the Backstage area without her father's knowledge quite often. Michael doesn't bully her; he's honestly a bit creeped out by her, to be perfectly honest. she kinda scares him, nowadays...
she swears that she hears Cassidy's voice coming from the plushie she was gifted by them, telling her about what was happening around her, about her deepest thoughts and regrets.
but, most of all, it would tell her that her father was hiding something from her.
and the more she learns about the animatronics, the more she can't help but agree.
they didn't use to act like that before the..."disappearances."
so...what if they hadn't simply disappeared?
William brushes her off as she asks about it. but she presses him further: "The robots didn't act like that before, Daddy. We both know this. Why won't you tell me the truth?"
it's her ninth birthday. he took her to Freddy's.
she snuck into the Backstage again. she can smell the smell of death back there. Foxy is back there for repairs that day. she swears that she can see something in his mouth, inside of him...
there's a scream from back there. employees find her with a huge wound across one of her eyes.
Foxy bit her.
after a few days in the hospital, she awakens, mostly fine. she's blind in her left eye now, and she has a nasty scar from the bite, but she's alive. William talks about how Foxy is dangerous, this is why I've told you so many times now not to go back there, what if you got hurt even worse than that?
Elizabeth hardly even seems fazed. she looks up at him, smiling.
"It's fine, Daddy. Fritz told me he was sorry.
...He seemed really mad at you, though..."
William is left speechless. as is Michael.
(there's no way she could make that up. there's no way she could just randomly guess Fritz was Foxy.)
Michael leaves home, going to stay with Henry. Liz stays with her father.
Liz gets sent to a therapist, because (to a certain degree) maybe William could convince her (and himself) that this was all just her being mad about Adrian's death, as well as losing Charlie. she's just mad and bitter about what happened, so she's just making up some reason to still be mad at him.
(it was his faulty robot that killed Adrian, after all. why wouldn't she be mad about that, the therapist says. she feels like she can't truly forgive him for that, even if it was nothing more than a tragic accident. so she's just trying to find some more justifiable reason to still be mad. at least, that's what everyone else seems to tell her.)
but it doesn't manage to convince her.
it just makes her stop talking about it as openly.
she knows what she saw and heard that day. and...if Fritz and the others were in the robots at Freddy's...then...is Adrian...?
she grows up. she moves out in 1993.
a few years later, she goes to find her brother. she finds him, as well as several others.
she gets them out, all her insides still, well, inside. she starts working on robots of her own, just for fun.
but, she gets an idea. William practically killed these poor children (indirectly, because Funtimes, but still), don't they want vengeance?
turns out, they do. and Adrian, horrified and disgusted by what his father has done, wants to help them.
Elizabeth gets an idea, one that all of the Funtimes are on board with:
Why don't they go pay her dear old Daddy a visit? :)
(aka: Elizabeth lives, and becomes Michael Afton, But If He Were 10% More Unhinged. And Had An Army of Robots)
#fnaf au#Elizabeth's Toybox of Horrors au#elizabeth afton#she somewhat swaps places with the Crying Child#Dandy goes 'baa!'#fnaf
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This post will be be different from my entire page. It is an information point mainly discussing girls:
As a once perceived female, I have anger. Today I walked down the streets of my beloved town and I remembered the first time I went down it on my own. I was terrified and walking quickly because I heard horror stories and I felt sad about being separated from my family (I got a little bit lost). The FIRST pub I quickly walked past I was a scared object. I don't remember what they said, but it was something about being on my own and a pretty girl and just general catcalling. I was that sort of age where I didn't have any dislikes in food or in people. That must've been the first thing I disliked. I was so scared and it took me a long time to go out by myself.
This wasn't the first time I was sexualised, nor the last. It hurts me the disparage between men and woman, or more apt between men and girls.
May I iterate at this time that there is so much good in this world. Mostly reiterating to me so I don't throw something.
Dance took up a lot of my life when young. At the age of maybe 6 I learned to "sexy dance". Couldn't have been more than 4 when I started this sport and I remember so clearly being told to suck everything in. Ballet does rely on core strength, and I thought there was something wrong with me for having a bum or having a tiny tiny stomach that stuck out in revealing leotards. I was teased by the teacher for having breakfast.
It's one of my earliest memories.
I thought for years this was the fault of the leotar, that girls shouldnt wear such things. Turns out it's the people, the teachers, our unwanted observers.
Today, my boss walked behind me centimetres past me and I froze. His towel brushed my arse a little bit that could have easily been a genuine accident. What wasn't an accident was how close he was to me than his male co-workers. All shift he treated me like an idiot for asking questions about the workplace that I'm new to. I know for a fact that if it was a man asking the same questions that he would be inquisitive and wanting to learn, but I perceived his responses to mean that I am shrill and annoying.
We are taught from a very young age that men are dangerous and it proves to be right. We are taught to fear them all. Never during lessons was I surprised to hear the horrors of the world because it's ingrained from birth.
Half of our population is scared of the other.
Half of our population feel scared when a man is behind you.
Half of our population can't deal with this fear anymore.
We have been crying out for centuries to be taken seriously.
Since women being able to vote, there has been a shift of "women have all the rights already, why do we have to change because of one bad thing that happened?"
We need to change because grown women are afraid to be alone.
We need to change because children get cat called.
Legally, we are equal.
To you, we are equal because we can do the same jobs as you.
We see the ways you treat us differently but we are AFRAID to speak up.
We can't lose our jobs over this. Many do. I was replaced by a boy in my first workplace because he would be stronger than weak little girl. I lost my next job because I spoke out about feeling not safe.
I feel afraid when there's only men in the room. I feel that I can't say anything and I'm helpless. I feel that I'm the idiot, no matter what. One man can make a room full of girls/ women feel threatened.
A 16 year old today was told off because her legs were on display and it wasn't professional. I've seen men bartenders wear shorts all of the time.
There are different standards for you and for i, all because you presume me female.
We don't want to anger you in case you strike out and hurt us.
Because we've all been hurt by people like you.
I implore for the women/ former women to find a single woman who hasn't been scared of a man just waking down the street, just being looked at for too long.
Reply if you have never been scared of men.
Reblog if you have never not been scared of men.
A poem to end this speech.
Men.
I don't care who you are
I'm scared of you.
#feminism#womens rights#cry of fear#men are scary#men are exhausting#afab#feminist#human rights#why#men and women#children#sexualized#sexualised#girls#reality#stories#do not sexualize#no sympathy#anger#sadness#not all men
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About My OC: Lexa Edition
So I said a while ago I wanted to post some stuff about my OCs and I've decided to do it now, starting with my sweet girl Lexa.
If you don't know Lexa, she's from this fic here. Not really necessary to read before this, you could read either first. I'm focusing on her Padawan era right now since that's what we've seen of her story so far. I'll be updating things as I think of them and as her story progresses. Not really in any particular order, I tried to keep them chronological but that got too hard so things jump around a bit lol.
(I am learning to draw right now so I can eventually draw my OCs and you can see what they look like instead of just relying on my garbage descriptions)
About Lexa:
Born on Ryloth in 38 BBY
She has light purple skin with darker purple spots everywhere (think like Kit Fisto's spots in the CW show).
She's tall, like most Twi'leks are (like she's almost looking the clones in the eyes when they meet).
Has a traditional Twi’leki name so she shortened it to Lexa for the sake of everyone else
She likes to let people try and pronounce it. She thinks it’s hilarious when they fail horribly.
Luminara Unduli was the Jedi that discovered her on Ryloth when she was two years old.
Her parents always wanted the best for her so they let her go.
She doesn’t really remember them since she was so young when she was discovered.
Baby Lexa was absolutely in awe of Aayla Secura when they first met and followed her around.
She’s two years older than Ahsoka so naturally they were close as younglings.
Absolutely got up to shenanigans, mostly instigated by Lexa.
Also close with Barriss since Force healing is Lexa's jam.
Was absolutely raging when Ahsoka was being framed for the attack on the temple. She knows Ahsoka wouldn't do something like that.
Was heartbroken over Barriss and Ahsoka's decision to leave, but supported Ahsoka's decision cause she just wants what's best for her friend.
Plo Koon took Lexa on as his Padawan when she was 14, two years before the war started.
This only brought Lexa and Ahsoka closer and Lexa became a sort of big sister to Ahsoka.
Plo wouldn’t let Lexa join him on any missions or campaigns for the first few months of the war. (He's secretly glad after what happened with the Malevolence).
Papa Plo loves his Padawan though and absolutely bragged about her to his troops non stop.
Naturally they all know who she is by the time she finally gets to meet them and go on her first mission.
Wolffe was a bit hesitant at first, after all a literal child is going to join them.
Definitely gets annoyed by her and her excitement upon first meeting.
But after five minutes of knowing her he decides he will shoot anyone and anything that causes her harm.
She really wins him and the pack over after the battle when he lost his eye. I like to think it happened not long after Lexa joined, and of course she was ready to throw hands with Ventress for hurting him.
This sweet baby did everything she could for him and he decided then that this is his child and he will protec and he will attac.
Lexa loves the clones as much as Plo and would fight anyone who speaks badly of them.
Wolffe had a full blown panic attack after their first battle because Papa Plo really let this little baby out on the battlefield with no protection but a lightsaber. Unacceptable. (Not that he doubts her skills but he’s heard far too many horror stories from Cody about jedi losing their lightsabers mid-fight.)
He had armor made specially for her. She doesn’t wear all of it when she fights but she wears some protection to appease him.
Wolffe painted the Wolf Pack symbol on it himself.
Lexa definitely didn't cry when saw it.
Really tries to think up a way to attach her saber to her hand permanently during a battle because he’s not about to have her lose it and put herself at risk.
Puts up with the shenanigans she gets into with Boost and Sinker.
His trouble twins are already a pain in his ass and then add his pup in there and he's in for a long day.
Was not at all prepared for the first time Lexa and Ahsoka were together after a combined campaign with the 501st.
Lexa has trouble sleeping sometimes and thus the cuddle piles are born.
She overthinks a lot because of her perfectionist nature.
Wolffe doesn't give compliments often but absolutely will compliment his little pup.
Warthog was the one that coined the nickname as a joke since Lexa liked to follow Wolffe around in the beginning.
It stuck and now everyone knows she's the Pack's little pup.
Taglist:
@rosechi @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @wolffegirlsunite @jedi-hawkins
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More Eve!!!!! This is her coming home + her first major injury :3c From here it’ll probably stop being chronological whatever I post with her and instead spaced out whenever just for funsies
Word Count: 2,240
CW: pet whump, dehumanization, burning of the whumpee
***
The girl looked around her new home curiously, her hands clasped together behind her back. From the moment they walked through the doorway she was overwhelmed by how neat and pristine everything looked, like the modeled rooms of a furniture store. She didn’t want to risk touching anything, like she would somehow break or dirty something just by putting her hands on it.
The woman, who had explained her name was Natalia Fairfax, but she could only refer to her as Miss, or Miss Fairfax, led her from room to room, a living room with a large television mounted on the wall, a well stocked kitchen and adjoining dining room, an office with bookshelves full of more books than she’d ever seen outside a store or library. Upstairs was Natalia’s bedroom, the guest bedrooms, and the guest bathroom. They were about to walk back downstairs when she finally spoke up, her voice soft and timid.
“Uh- um, Miss Fairfax…?” She asked hesitantly.
“Yes, what is it?” She paused with her hand on the staircase railing.
“Which room will be mine? I-I just want to make sure I ask before it gets too late-“
“Room? You think that pets get rooms?” There was that hint of a smile again, she was amused by what she thought was a simple question. “No, I’m sorry to say that I don’t spoil my pets. Bedrooms are for people, come with me downstairs and I’ll show you where you will sleep.” She told her.
“Yes ma’am…” She followed her back downstairs, being mindful to hide her disappointment. She knew that not all owners were as kind of generous as others, but it still hurt a little, she’d been so hopeful about sleeping in a real bed after so long on a concrete floor or uncomfortable cot.
In the kitchen there was another door aside from the one that led to the pantry, she hadn’t questioned it the first time they went through there. Natalia opened it up and turned a light on, leading her down another flight of stairs into the basement. Each step down made her more and more nervous, she’d always hated going down into the basement as a child, there were always spiders in the house she grew up in, and before she’d been bought she’d heard so many horror stories about owners with whole torture rooms in their basements, not unlike the training rooms she hated so much.
As they actually entered the main part of the basement, she saw it wasn’t nearly as bad as she’d been expecting, nothing special but clean, no weapons of torture in sight, just a nice washer and dryer, some racks containing extra household items and cleaning supplies, what looked like a closet for extra space, and some storage containers stacked up against the wall. She let out a sigh of relief, she almost felt silly for being so afraid.
“I hope you know how to do laundry, you’ll be responsible for all of it now as part of your chores.” Natalia said, and she nodded quickly.
“Yes ma’am, I can do that.” She assured her.
“Good, and you’ll be sleeping in there.” She said, gesturing to the closet door. “I’ve already left some things you’ll need in there, but I’ll have to do something about getting you more clothes and properly fitting shoes.” She said, looking her over, it felt like she was scrutinizing every aspect of her appearance. “You can take a look and take some time to rest if you need to, come find me upstairs when you’re ready.” She told her, and she nodded again. She watched her go back upstairs, waiting until she heard the door at the top shut before she finally relaxed. Natalia put her on edge, she was very cold and her eyes were intense no matter how she looked at her, she felt like one wrong move would get her in big trouble.
Now that she was alone, she went to check out what was supposed to be where she slept. It looked like a closet that had been cleaned out just for her, it was big enough to walk into, probably big enough to comfortably lay down in, but rather narrow. The shelves were almost empty, aside from some folded up blankets, a pillow, and a digital alarm clock.
She looked around the basement a little bit longer, getting herself familiar with another part of the house she’d be working in. Finally, she went back upstairs where she found Natalia in her office. She looked up from her laptop when she entered the room, giving her a disapproving look.
“You’ll want to knock before entering a room unless I’ve called you inside from now on. Go ahead and come here though.” She said, pushing her chair back from her desk. Nervously, she walked over to her, and after Natalia gestured to the floor, she dropped to her knees. “I need to get you a new collar, which means you’ll get a name tag with it. I’ve been thinking about the name Eve for you.” She told her.
“Eve…?”
“Yes. It’s short, but I think it’ll fit you nicely. I expect you to respond immediately when I call your name, do you understand?” She’d been anxious about what Natalia may choose to name her, she’d heard of all kinds of demeaning and humiliating names pets had gotten stuck with, but Eve… she thought it was pretty, she felt lucky even.
“Yes ma’am.” Eve told her, accepting her new name without complaint. She wouldn’t say she had no attachment to her actual name, but she’d happily take this over anything insulting.
“Good girl.” Natalia smiled at her. “As long as you obey me and do your job here well, then you should be fine. I intend to keep you only as long as you’re useful, but you seem like you’ll last a while.” Eve chose to take that as a compliment, she wanted to last a while, forever even. After all, she didn’t want to find out what Natalia did with pets that were no longer useful.
***
Eve settled down n and tried to adapt to the rules here quickly. She learned the hard way the first morning he woke up in the house that Natalia would allow her to learn to cook, but that she should learn quickly as she wouldn’t be allowed to eat anything she hadn’t prepared. Natalia had put instructions for making breakfast on the counter and told her to start learning or go hungry, and sadly, she was not a natural in the kitchen. For the first few weeks her diet consisted primarily of burnt toast and overcooked eggs, most of the other food she messed up wasn’t even edible.
The rest of the chores were easy, but exhausting on a nearly empty stomach. She cleaned her mistakes in the kitchen multiple times a day and tended to the upkeep of every single other room in the house. She felt like she was cleaning before the mess could even be created, but she supposed this was just what was necessary to keep a home like this looking as picture perfect as it was.
She didn’t think it would be hard, only Natalia lived there after all, but with the amount of things that needed to be done every single day, she hardly had a moment to herself until she was allowed to go to bed. That alarm clock would go off at five thirty every morning, when she would have to get up and start everything over again.
After nearly two months there, her skills with breakfast had improved immensely, she could make a variety of things now and she felt more confident in her abilities there, but dinner was causing her to struggle. She was always overwhelmed, there were always so many things to do at once and it never came out right. She’d usually end up going to bed hungry after Natalia scolded her for messing up again.
She’d been punished for some of the most ruined meals, made to kneel on dry rice for two hours after she mistakenly burnt the rice for dinner, salt rubbed into preexisting cuts and scrapes when she seriously over salted one meal, she never resisted the punishments and as she cried, Natalia would tell her she would know better next time now, she wouldn’t have to repeat this, and she’d keep those punishments in the back of her mind whenever she went to start preparing another meal.
The worst of it came late one evening. She’d fallen behind on her chores so dinner was running late, and though Eve was doing her best, she was in a hurry and things were not going well. The chicken she’d been cooking in one pan had clearly burnt and there was no going back from that and the water she was trying to boil for pasta seemed like it would never reach a boiling point. She kept stirring the sauce in the pot on a back burner, anxiously biting her lip as she knew there was no way in which this could end well for her. She froze as she heard footsteps entering the room, Natalia approaching her.
“Again, Eve?” She asked, sounded exasperated.
“I-I’m sorry ma’am, I’m sorry, I was trying but there was just-“
“I don’t want to hear your excuses!” She snapped at her. She shoved her away from the stove, looking over the damage she’d done this time. “I feel I’ve been more than patient with you and yet you continue to fuck up completely simple tasks, I’m starting to wonder if you’re even worth keeping around!” The comment felt like a punch to the gut, Eve’s heart pounded in her chest, sweat pricked at the back of her neck and suddenly the spacious kitchen felt much smaller, much hotter, she thought she was going to be sick.
“N-no!” She blurted out. “No, please, I promise I’ll do better, please punish me, give- give me more time, I’ll do better!” She insisted, tears welling up in her eyes. She didn’t know what would happen to her if Natalia decided she wasn’t worth keeping around, she didn’t know if they’d take her back and let her work again or if they’d finally just put her down and get it over with. Natalia just looked even angrier with her, her hand wrapped around the handle of the pot of hot water.
“You do not tell me no.” She said through gritted teeth. Eve took a step back, she knew she was in danger, she hadn’t seen Natalia this angry before.
“I’m sorry…” She whimpered. Apologies meant nothing to Natalia though, and she knew that, it had never helped her before, but Natalia’s punishments were always strategic and thought out. She didn’t take even a second to think about this, she lifted the pot from the stove in one quick movement and splashed the hot water onto her, eliciting a shriek from Eve as she instinctively turned away to protect herself.
She didn’t throw the whole pot of near boiling water on her, but it was certainly enough, and she’d only managed to protect her chest and stomach from getting the worst of it. The right side of her body was still soaked, searing pain from her shoulder all the way down her leg, she could feel it in her ribs, her shorts wet and sticking to her thigh, she desperately shook water off her arm as she cried, stumbling towards the sink for cold water.
“H-hot, it’s really hot, please- please help me, I’m sorry ma’am, I’m sorry, please help!” She cried, trying to run cold water from the faucet over her arm but it just wasn’t enough, too much of her body felt like it was on fire for just the kitchen sink to help her, her legs were shaking and all she could think of was how badly she needed the pain to stop.
“Why should I? You brought this on yourself.” Natalia said, glaring at her.
“Please!” She sobbed, collapsing against the counter, barely managing to hold herself up by gripping onto the edge. After a moment Natalia sighed heavily, she stormed over and opened a drawer next to the sink to get a hand towel before shutting the water off. She used the towel to dry off the remaining water on her, she was so rough in doing so it caused Eve to start screaming again.
“Quiet! I’m trying to help you but I won’t if you’re going to keep shrieking in my ear!” She hissed, and Eve bit down on her lip, whimpering pitifully as she tried to keep quiet. Natalia took her arm in her hand, looking over the damage done with a scowl on her face. “I think you’re going to need to see someone for this.”
“Like… Like a doctor…?” She asked.
“Yes, a doctor.” She said it like Eve was stupid. “Not the kind you’re used to I’m sure.” Eve didn’t know what she meant by that, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out.
She assumed if she was going to see a doctor, she’d be given treatment, even time to recover. She was already praying that it wouldn’t take too long, Natalia was being gracious enough to get her seen at all, she just hoped she intended to keep her afterwards.
#whump#whump writing#my writing#my oc’s#Eve#Natalia#pet whump#dehumanization#Eve my beloved…..#yeah that’s gonna leave a pretty bad scar on the poor girl#lady whumpee#Natalia has been fun to write#because she’s always been the least developed of the Fairfax siblings#but I always imagined Nicholas is most similar to her#and I get to see that more the more I write her
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17, 24, and 25 for the choose violence ask game!!!
there should be more of this type of fic/art
I am usually not the type to tell ppl what they should create so take this as my personal taste but genuinely I would love more divorce/break-up fic that doesn't demonize any particular person
Like yeah these are harrowing events that often leave ppl hurt and betrayed, but looking into why a relationship fails can be just as interesting as why it works
A big problem I know is the idea that these would be inherently anti-whatever ship but really when I found a divorce fic for my otp I was excited. Honestly my big let down was the scathing critique was "they were too young to get married" rather than digging into their actual relationship
topic that brings up the most rancid discourse
Comphet fictional discourse. Genuinely a real thing, but ppl give way too much credit to cishet creators who have never heard of Adrienne Rich. Like I don't trust anything that doesn't already have five separate queer characters already to actually get into such a complex topic. If they can't write a normal straightforward gay relationship, then they ain't even thinking of comphet.
And headcanons are headcanons, go wild, but the justifications some people will use for them often act like you can't be truly attracted to anyone unless they are you're one true love. It turns the vast complexity of queer experience into a little white picket fence nuclear family ideal. At worst you get annoying shipping wars where "oh this long term relationship with their love interest doesn't actually mean anything bc they aren't married with 2.5 kids to" to genuine vile abuse rhetoric like, "sexual and domestic violence doesn't happen if you are capable of being attracted to someone"
TLDR: HC Utena as a comphet lesbian all you want, but if you argue that if she was bisexual she wouldn't be actually harmed by Akio grooming and assaulting her, you are evil.
common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing
Ppl acting like the only media options are big name corporate franchises or fanfic. Fanfic can be fun and meaningful without it being the only bastion of marginalized experiences. That's so much pressure to put on ppl's silly little stories and it ignores the wealth of small time creators who are putting their heart and soul into original stories across every medium
Please just don't rely on what trends on twitter or shows up on your dash. Some of my most transformative media experiences have been bc I took a chance on a book/show with a cool cover. I've found out stories of intense familial abuse and recovery using the Arthurian mythos, horror stories about a young girl and her gay brother-in-law both being haunted by the death of her older brother in different harrowing ways, surrealistic art-pieces about family and what makes it worth returning to, and quiet meloncholy domestic stories that use magic to show both the pain of being othered, but the join in finding community that does support you.
And I am not even intentionally seeking out indies particularly often! So many people are creating the art you wish to see already, you just got to go out searching for them
#seasalt talks#thanks for the ask!!#yes i always bring up utena but I will never recover from ppl saying in one breath bi rights#then implying a bi CHILD would welcome the advances of an adult man unlike a good and pure gay one in the next#also all of those examples are real just reach out to me for the titles
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A Nightmare At Green Lake 12 - Rush of Passion
The young staff of the Foundation are making deductions from the current situation. The city girl and the town girl lie in the sofa, snuggled up against each other, and fiddle with the clutter piled up on the table.
Blonney: Look, they are trying to solve the problem, yet we can do nothing but fiddle around. Maybe I should have worked harder in college, so that I can at least understand a thing or two from the conversation.
Anne: Don’t worry, Jennifer! I don’t understand any of what they said either! You are not alone. I’m here with you.
Blonney: I’m not like you. You literally don’t know anything. I remember when we first met, you asked of everything I had on me. You grew up here, in a small town in the middle of nowhere. It is only normal that you don’t know anything about the outside world. But I’m different. I’ve been to big cities, I’ve gone to college, I’ve read books, I pretended to be well-adapted to this lifestyle. But in fact, I’m still ignorant, knowing nothing but empty pleasures. My hair colour gives away who I am. I’m a silly blondie.
Anne: Don’t speak of yourself like this, Jennifer.
Anne sits up, frowning with anxiety. She raises her voice.
Anne: You’re not silky. You are smart! You make your own movie with a script you wrote by yourself! You’re pretty and kind, and you’re the best person I’ve ever known. Please don’t hate yourself.
Blonney: Fine, I get it, but can you let go of my hand first? You’re hurting me a bit.
Anne: Oh! Sorry! Are you going to be okay? Shall I get you some ointment for these red areas on your hand?
Blonney: Haha! You’re funny. I’m not some glass doll that breaks from being held too tightly. Heh heh. Oh, I can barely breathe. You are great fun!
Anne: You’re smiling. Did I make you happy? This is good.
Blonney: Heh heh. Don’t you find me weird? My attitude changes so rapidly. I’ve been mean to you for a long time. And all of a sudden, I started to follow you around and try to use you to survive from this.
Anne: Weird? What’s so bad about that? Even if you’re weird, it’s a good kind of weird. I like you … staying by my side.
Blonney: Even if I’m a benefit-driven fence-sitter who immediately embrace arcanists after being ditched by my human friends?
Anne: Jason and Michael shouldn’t hate you, if they knew you better.
Blonney: Hah …
The laughter makes her tired. She lets her body fall on the sofa, her head leaning on the shoulder of that small-town girl.
Blonney: You seem to really like me.
Anne: …!
Blonney: You would jump off the car to rescue me, you protect me, praise me. You would even be happy because I was happy.
Anne: Because I’ve never seen anyone as pretty as you are. You’re special. You’re different to the rest of us.
Blonney: Oh, stop. I will not be embarrassed for these nice things you said about me. I’ve heard enough of them throughout my entire life. Listen, I’m very sorry for mistreating you, and I’m grateful that you came to save me. I will reward you with a secret, my secret. Do you wanna hear it?
Anne: Absolutely!
Anne’s green eyes are filled with sincerity, shining like a puppy’s.
Anne: I’d love to!
Blonney: In fact, I don’t hate horror movies.
Tooth Fairy: This is the diary I found in the attic. There were many other things, like a full warehouse.
Blonney: I actually liked them a lot when I was a kid. I spent most of my time here, in Green Lake Campsite, writing my own horror movie scripts on paper.
Tooth Fairy: The handwriting is pretty childish, so the writer might be around 8 to 13 years old. Some of the narratives are straightforward, but the story itself is very creative.
Blonney: But later, we moved to another town. Huh, hah! My parents earned great success in business, and we moved into a high-profile community where only humans are allowed. We were also given privileges that arcanists cannot enjoy. It was then I realised—nobody wants me to be an arcanist.
Tooth Fairy: It was since that day, the diary stopped updating. It might be forgotten or taken away. The story ended there.
Blonney: That’s why I decided to break off my connections with arcanists and stop showing interests in emotive things like horror movies in order to hide the arcanist side of me. Huh! I took out my energy on other things which may ease my mind, like soap operas, new clothes, fashions … People like me this way. They said this is what I’m supposed to do. They believe that I’m a dumb bimbo, believe that I hate books. I led a life they want me to have, till I graduated from high school.
Anne: I don’t like these people. You shouldn’t have been out through this. You are the smartest person I’ve ever known.
Anne reaches out a hand and clenches a fist.
Anne: If one day I run into them, I will pull their noses and mouths off, like this!
Blonney: A wonderful idea. I wish I was as creative as you are.
…
Blonney: So, in the end, I attacked one of the jerks who didn’t watch his mouth at the prom. I slapped him in the face and smashed four sandwiches and a salad on his head. Then, feeling resentful for what had happened, I applied for a degree in filmmaking, a course which was considered to be “ill-fitted” to me. And next, I started shooting horror movies for an assignment “I have to finish.” Huh! Deep down inside, I think I have never really given them up. I’ve probably never stopped loving them.
Horropedia: Keep on shooting. I will buy you a new camera.
Blonney: Hello! Have you been eavesdropping? Where is your manners?
Vertin: Actually, I heard them all as well.
Tooth Fairy: So did I.
Horropedia: We are in the same room. You can talk, we can hear, and the air helps. That’s it.
Tooth Fairy: Well, we are all here, paying attention to your voices. We heard everything you just said.
Tooth Fairy walks up, gently putting a pink diary on Blonney’s knees.
Tooth Fairy: I think this is yours. Now I should hand it back to you.
Blonney: Where did you find it? I haven’t seen this for a really long time.
A reunion after a long separation. Blonney opens the diary carefully.
Blonney: I used to do some arcanist tricks with it, but I have lost control over my power since I threw it into the la- … lak- … Aaah-choo!
Blonney suddenly gives a shiver, perhaps because she is touched by the diary, or perhaps because of something else. She raises her head and looks around.
Blonney: Aren’t you guys cold? How come it’s so chilly?
A gust of cold wind, along with a bit of rain, swirls into the cabin. Outside the opened door, a wedding ring lies in a puddle, reflecting light ominously.
Blonney: That ring? Wasn’t it on my finger a minute ago?
Vertin: Watch out. Something is approaching.
…
Blonney: How many more dead men were buried here? I’ve had enough! Can’t we just get rid of that dead woman?
Ghost Bride: Boohoo …
Blonney: She’s approaching! This is a good chance …
Ghost Bride: Aaahhh!
Blonney: Ugh! She smells like a skunk in the sewer!
Sonetto: Blonney! The ghost bride took her down. We need to help her!
Critter Crowd: Chirp …
Sonetto: Not good. The critters are coming around again!
The ghost bride murmurs something and crawls over Blonney, who has fallen to the ground.
Ghost Bride: I do … do … I do … ah …
Horropedia: Hey! Blondie! If you wanna survive, leave that ring alone!
Blonney: Hell, you think I wanted this?! This crazy woman ghost put it on me! Get off! Get lost!
The ghost bride’s oozy body is kicked back several feet.
Ghost Bride: Uuuhh …!
Blonney quickly struggles to her feet and runs toward the back of the cabin.
Ghost Bride: Hmm, boohoo … uuuhh …
Horropedia: Damn! Her whimper can summon more critters. They are going out from the ground!
Tooth Fairy: Shh.
Shaking her head, Tooth Fairy walks to the centre of the monsters. She is surrounded by sparkling powder.
Tooth Fairy: What they need is a song.
…
Sonetto: This is Ms. Tooth Fairy’s singing! Ms. Tooth Fairy, behind you!
Horropedia: Jeez! What on earth is that!
Blonney: Ahahaha! What is it, do you think? Of course, a good surpriiiiiiiiise! Ha! I didn’t know I was a talented driver! Once we get out of here, I’m gonna get myself a driver’s license!
Horropedia: Within 30 seconds, you crashed over every critter in our sight. I don’t think you are qualified to be a driver. No, no. That’s not the point. Where did you get the car?
Tooth Fairy: Pink lines. This is drawn with an oil paint pen. This is her arcane skill. Your arcane skill restored pretty fast. Seems like you’ve accepted your identity.
Blonney: May be that, or may be because I retrieved this diary. I feel something has changed inside me, making me a bit hyped.
Tooth Fairy: A good try. Please keep up with the feeling.
Blonney: That song you just sang—can I take it as a gift?
Tooth Fairy: You mean …?
Blonney: Well, you still owe me a song. Please, I wanna song from you.
Tooth Fairy: Sure, take it as a gift. For making progress in life and for your courage to embrace who you truly are.
Blonney: Thanks. This is my handkerchief. Take it. Wipe your face. Ah!
The Hummer woven with pink graffiti horns melts in the rain. Blonney stumbles backward. It’s a misjudgement of her own arcane ability—a mistake commonly made by rookie arcanists.
Horropedia: Did you just get a bit woozy from putting up a big scene to the rescue?
Blonney: I didn’t.
Horropedia: Okay … uh-huh … yeah … uh-hum …
Blonney: What are you doing?
Horropedia: I know the rules of social courtesy. You just saved my life, so I won’t embarrass you by telling others you just overestimated your ability.
Horropedia shakes his head, a grin spreading across his face.
Horropedia: If you are willing to take advice from me, I would say don’t overburden yourself.
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No One Told Me
I never knew what a Narcissistic Personality was, never knew someone could be manipulative. I had heard a few horror stories growing up of some guys either having controlling moms or wives but I always believed I’d be smart enough when it came to dating…. I was quite the opposite though. Growing up in an extremely empathetic home where I was the family care taker and I ALWAYS put other’s needs before my own, it was only natural to date a narcissist and I had NO IDEA!
Worse, I never knew what trauma bond was and that when you connect with a narcissist, you’re the one obsessed and attached with them but they’re not attached to you at all. Oh they’re obsessed with you for a quick moment but it’s fleeting and they’re moved on while you’re stuck believing you’re in this loving relationship with them but as they start to act weird with you, you get nervous and therefore, you only try to love them harder…… I made the mistake of continuing to shower my ex, Andrew with so much love and attention, trying to impress him and make him pay me attention. After the love bomb phase, it was just so confusing, the way he turned so cold that I just pushed and pushed, continuing to work so hard to get back that person I saw in the love bomb phase, but that person could never ever come back!!!
The break up with Andrew, was not only super confusing, but my heart was very broken and I was suicidal and depressed for months! It did NOT make sense why somebody would say they do not want to break up with me over and over but yet, when I break up with them, they’re not even upset or have any emotions towards me and not only that, they already have a new girlfriend so fast, which I did not realize they don’t go for someone better, they go for someone weaker but in my eyes at the time I did not think they were going for someone weaker… I felt like they were going for someone prettier, and it really tore me up and made me super jealous of her and I didn’t even know her or her story! Nor do I know what Andrew told her about me, if anything he might have not even told her I exist … she may have thought she was the only girl in his life just like I thought that prior to her!! 🥺 I went from thinking I’m his whole focus to does he even remember my name?!!
I was so incredibly hurt by Andrew and the pain was overwhelmingly poisoning. I HAD to get away from him which was very hard to do and when I did, I found myself just desperate to move on and get over him. I met my husband and married him quickly! I was only trying to push away my feelings and pain for Andrew BUT I didn’t understand what even happened. I didn’t know what narcissism was or trauma bond. After I got married, I’ve found its VERY difficult not to think of Andrew alllllllll the time. I tried to ignore it so many times and it’s gotten worse! I was confused to what happened but afraid to talk about it with my new husband because he would be hurt and jealous to hear I’m still thinking of my ex. I prayed and prayed for answers to what’s going on and BAM! One night I saw a random video on TikTok explaining what narcissism is and wow…. It hit me like a ton of bricks!!!! I quickly knew then Andrew and Cody and Jake were all narcissists and they all lied and manipulated me to use me. It made so much sense and I began to slowly put pieces together. It’s now been a little over a year that I’ve been learning about narcissistic abuse and what happened to me.
Knowing doesn’t fix what happened, doesn’t change anything, nor does it break the mental attachment my brain has towards Andrew. My brain simply can not accept what happened and my heart continues to break whenever I think of Andrew yet I’ve never been able to stop. Since I first met Andrew, I was totally obsessed with him in a bad way and it’s only gotten worse. It’s not love, it’s this creepy attachment that I can’t escape.
So not too long ago, I was really praying hard to break this strong-hold Andrew has had on my mind, as if I’m his prisoner and I felt so good about it too. I went home with a clear head but when I slept, I had the most sad dream of him!!! I dreamed first he’s sitting with me on a couch asking to make out with me and I felt a rush but then I dream he’s giving me all these “gifts” that he claims his mom helped him pick out but when he lays them all out on a table, it’s nothing but a bunch of random little items, looked like little Russian dolls(the kind you stack) or something…. And the rest I couldn’t identify!!! It was random and weird but I was thinking in the dream “Why is he giving me so much stuff??” And I’m showing someone in the dream and they’re saying “Oh he must care about you some or why else would he give you all this stuff??” Then I dream I’m sitting with Andrew on another couch at some random family’s house neither of us know them, it’s Christmas time and I see a Christmas tree against the wall. Andrew had what looked like a possible wedding ring in his hand and this random family in dream thinks he’s proposing to me, they’re congratulating me and I’m super excited BUT then Andrew looks at me and says, “oh no, I’m so sorry…. I didn’t mean to make you think I was proposing to you but you do know I think of us as just good friends.” And I’m thinking in the dream “but what about us making out and all the gifts you gave me??” THEN I dream I’m on this random family’s staircase, crying my eyes out with my face in my arms!!!! It was soo sad and I dreamt Andrew walked up and stood there awhile just watching me cry but never asked if I was okay or said anything to me, just stood there and I was thinking in my head, “Why doesn’t he care about me at all? How can he just watch me cry???” Then Andrew walked off and the wife of the random family came over to me to see if I was ok….. THEN I WOKE UP!!! I felt very VERY sad and felt like I’m still very trapped forever thinking about Andrew. Whenever I try to stop, I just think of him more!!!! I see his face constantly day and night! I pray for him but it doesn’t change.
I know you have to grieve the loss of the narcissist because the image they showed you during the “love bomb phase” is false. You don’t really know who they are and your brain is so confused. I’ve tried so hard to really grieve Andrew and then let it all go but some days it feels very difficult. I don’t hate Andrew but yet I get angry towards him. He made me feel so stupid!!!! Also I don’t talk about it all with anyone because who is going to understand me?? That’s partly the reason I started this account and started writing down my story. I’m trying to understand it all!!! 🤔
#emotional abuse#narcissistic abuse#self healing#unpacking#my story#self awareness#healingjourney#narcissism#online relationships#healing journey#trauma bonding#love bombing#love spells#cognitive dissonance#confused#dream interpretation#dream#narcissistic personality disorder#manipulation tactics#manipulation#help#therapy#sad stories#heartbreak#grief#gaslighting#empathy#intuition#spiritual awakening#tiktok
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Here's my film review from my cinema class, I'm actually relatively proud of it considering it's a mfk SCHOOL ASSIGNMENT?
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The Girl, The Android, And The Alien
Alien is a riveting science fiction/horror film released in 1979 that many can agree to be considered a horrifying classic to modern day. Directed by Ridley Scott and written by Dan O’Bannon , Alien brings the audience into a spine chilling setting with futuristic devices and beings far beyond our comprehensible world. Dallas, played by Tom Skerritt, is a captain of the ‘Nostromo’ crew, Ripley (Sigourney Weaver), Lambert (Veronica Cartwright), Kane (John Hurt), Brett (Harry Dean Stanton), Ash (Ian Holm), and Parker (Yaphet Kotto), who all traverse the galaxy in hopes to get home only to be met with acid and blood.
Our first meeting of the Nostromo crew are hushed and curious as our space cadets, along with their very furry friend, are awakened from hypersleep that was expected to occur when they reach home, but it is soon realized by the crew as well as the audience that fate would have different plans for them. As the story goes on, the Nostromo crew must grapple with absurd rules from the space station, and soon they realize that they’ve been sent on a suicide mission where a horrifying being with gangly limbs and an iconic elongated skull would hunt them down with such stealth and precision that you cant help but hold your breath. The anxiety only continues to thicken as the remaining escapees flee the spacecraft only to be met with a very unpleasant surprise that leaves the audience in a state of panic and a “what the ****!” caption hanging in your head.
The film's direction was phenomenal when it came to putting a sense of unease and heaviness into people's chests. There was something so unsettling about what Ridley Scott decided to produce for this film. Many of the scenes between characters were quiet and that almost made the entire complexity and dynamics between them all seem even more real. There wasn't too much talking to overwhelm the space created, it felt like you were experiencing what the characters were, and that made scenes all more genuine. Scenes like when Dallas is shuffling through the tight and dark air shafts, you can't help but feel confined and anxious as Dallas moves slowly through them. This use of spatial awareness dramatically set the mood of terror in the film.
Other scenes used sound to bring a chill down your spine, scenes like when Ripley (Signourny Weaver) is running back and forth through corridors and you hear nothing but her heavy breathing. Other times you would expect some ominous violin to be heard in the background to invoke fear and yet just the sound of Riply’s breathing does the trick. That lack of music made the film that much more unnerving.
The lighting is another thing to appreciate as it just made sense for it to be so dark. Even before the xenomorph is introduced, the spacecraft is filled with whites, grays and blacks and the lighting is very dim. Only when things progress does it get darker. The lighting was natural to a space like theirs, emitting from one source that was a part of the spacecraft, making it more natural. In very few parts did the lighting dramatically change to show a new detail to the plot, like the introduction of the xenomorph or the unfortunate fate for many members of the Nostromo. A very daunting scene that displays this dramatic change in lighting is after the very sudden brawl between Ripley and Ash, where it is revealed that Ash is not as human as we think. Near the climax of the movie, we see Ash’s disembodied head on the white table and the scene seems so bright that it brings this sense of importance as vital information is revealed regarding the survival of the Nostromo and how to kill the xenomorph. Ridley Scott’s and Dan O’Bannon’s decision for natural lighting and the emotion put behind it is something to be recognized and applauded for as it brought something so authentic to the film and its characters.
Moving onto a topic that made this film so enduring, was Sigourney Weaver's outstanding performance throughout the entirety of the plot. As we address the quietness once more, the conversations between our characters were limited to what needed to be said and nothing more. When conversation was held, the actors and actresses' performances made the entire experience mold better into that realism that held a nice contrast to what was surreal. Even in the beginning of the film we can see Sigourney Weaver’s character, Ripley, portray such passion and power that would stick with her and ultimately be her greatest weapon in surviving, and so it made perfect sense that Ripley would be the iconic “Last Girl Standing”. Through her many arguments with Dallas or Ash, for a say in leadership, it is evident that Ripley is a strong woman who refuses to take crap from others. Yet our gutsy heroine isn’t as strong as we may think and maybe the film is better for it. The writers of Alien build such a bold image of Ripley and so when we see scenes of desperation and fear from our heroine, it makes the experience so much more authentic. When Ripley attempts to ask “mother”, their ship's AI system, for help; she is met with answers that don't satisfy her, it drains the hope out of her and we see a moment of panic as she learns the truth about the priorities of the science station. This moment all comes to a climax when Ripley snaps and attacks “Science officer Ash” who has appeared at her side out of nowhere, saying, “There is an explanation for all this you know.” The audience feels just as frustrated about this unsatisfactory explanation as Sigourney Weaver so powerfully showed in her role as “Warrant Officer Ripley”.
It was not only Sigourney Weaver’s acting skills that made the film so great but the other actors and actresses portrayal as well. Throughout the film you see what the dynamics are between the Nostromo crew, one dynamic being the one between Brett and Parker. In the beginning of the film when the crew experiences technical troubles; Brett’s and Parker's friendship is aloof, simple and wasn’t too obvious as the “comedic relief”. It seemed like any other friendship between people; they complained to each other and goofed around and laughed together, this lightheartedness carried up until the brutally fast death of Brett. After Brett’s gruesome death, there's a stark contrast in Parker’s personality as the crew grapples with problem after problem. Soon we see that there's vengeance in Parker's eyes as he puts all his effort into hunting the xenomorph that killed his best friend in front of his own eyes. The sadness and anger Parker exhibits is something the audience can't help but feel sympathetic about.
The situations the crew had to go through were not for the faint of heart; moments of weakness, revenge and pure fear put such a riveting spin to something as original as Alien.
★★★★ Alien has a fundamental level of originality, of course it carries many similar aspects of other films such as “The Thing” (1951) but its story and character development is something to be both adored and feared. Alien gives a new outlook of what could lie beyond our minuscule solar system and maybe that is what Ridley Scott’s goal was, to give a new perspective of the unknown, either way the film was extremely well written to attend to what horror and sci-fi loving people crave. From the moment the Nostromo Crew awakes to Ripley’s sentimental last words before she is to enter hypersleep once more, the entire film's cinematography and direction was so artistically developed for its time and indubitably one of the best made films for its genre. It is definitely a movie worth watching and re-watching.
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Halloween 2022 - Day 26 - Cat People (1942)
In the rhythm of the newborn day
You know sometime you're bound to leave her
But for now you're going to stay
In the year of the cat
Cat People has a rather strange genesis in that someone came up with the title first and just handed it off for someone else to build a story around it. It doesn’t particularly strike me as some amazing title that will get butts in seats but maybe that’s what passed for the creative team back then, just a bunch of people coming up with movie names. It’s a lot of hard work to be an ideas man, someone else can write the film, direct it, score it, edit it...but these guys deserve all the credit for thinking of the idea.
Directing duties would go to Jacques Tourneur, who would later direct Night of the Demon. That’s night of the Demon singular, not to be confused with that movie we looked at the other week. Though we did look at Night of the Demon some years ago and that was fairly dull too. Cat People would later have a sequel and a remake in the 1980’s which had Malcolm McDowell and John Heard amongst its cast. It also starred Nastassja Kinski who had also starred in a Roman Polanski adaptation of Tess of the d’Urbervilles. I had to read that book in school, lots of implied rape and phallic use of strawberries as I recall.
Cat People tells the story of a young Serbian girl, Irena Dubrovna, living in New York who has a whirlwind romance with a young man, Oliver Reed (not that one). She shares with him a tale from her homeland of the great King John who slaughtered many a peasant after they turned to the dark wizardy of witchcraft and these is said to be a curse that strikes all young women in they turn into cats when the fire of passion burns within them. And we’re not talking Jocelyn Wildenstein here, like into a big cat of some kind, like a puma.
So there’s meant to be this idea that Irena is very reluctant to fall in love because of her fears of the legend coming true, worried that she would hurt the person closest to her. Only, it’s hard for that to come across because when I say whirlwind romance, these guys have met, fallen in love and got married within the first 15 minutes of the movie. The whole thing only lasts 73 minutes so, whilst I pointed at Doctor Sleep’s length recently, this would be an example of a movie that could probably do with more time to flesh things out. I know it wasn’t uncommon for films of this time to be quite short, I’ve seen a few of the old Universal movies that are about the same length or shorter like Frankenstein at 70 minutes, The Black Cat 66 minutes or The Raven at only 61. Irena does allude to some loneliness but it’s easy to dismiss that as her being in a foreign country or just being a bit shy. It would have been nice to expand on this idea and get across a bit more her reluctance to have these romantic relationships.
It would’ve helped the other side of the story as well where it’s very ambiguous as to whether or not this story is real. Certainly everyone thinks its all stuff and nonsense, with the movie setting up that Irena has this compulsion to visit this panther in the local zoo and hints at her letting it out. So when you have Irena’s love rival thinking she’s getting stalked by someone or something, it’s quite alarming to hear what sounds like a big cat’s roar.
Which is actually just a bus braking. Hey, I forgot this was this movie; it’s the Lewton Bus! This is like one of the originators of the jump scare in horror cinema.I wonder if the people behind this would regret their actions if they could see what a tired cliche it had become today.
But again, it would have been nice to actually see more to suggest one way or the other, maybe a slightly bigger body count to get across the potential threat. There is a part later on where the couple have a disagreement so you could potentially have Irena run off upset, end up at a bar where she meets some randomer who then turns up dead the next day.
I suppose you could argue that would dampen the end somewhat that has been building to this possible reveal. This moment does come across really creepy because her doctor ends up forcibly kissing her which, okay, maybe his thought was that he could ‘cure’ her of her delusions by showing her that nothing happens. But the way he talks to her and the way he was earlier trying to convince Oliver to anull the marriage makes it come across like he has slightly different motivations.
In a way these short movies can be helpful during these month long marathons, to be able to quickly breeze through a movie instead of having to think 2+ hours (or 3 in the case of Doctor Sleep) into it but I don’t recall ever having that sense of those other short movies having this problem of being hamstrung by the shortened runtime. It does seem like there would be potential here for a psychological piece on Irena’s personality, her relationships and how these ‘delusions’ are affecting them, but it all feels very rushed.
Which would actually make me somewhat curious about the remake, it often feels like remakes are only done for commercial reasons, something familiar yet new to bring in that sweet ticket money. Just look at horror, people love the original Jason movie, the original Freddy, Michael Myers...so why keep remaking them? But to take something flawed and give it another chance to be what it could have been, that makes more sense and perhaps that 1982 version could tap into that potential.
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Joyrider
(Welcome to another warm-up writing piece. cw for mild body horror)
...
The mall food court doubled rather nicely as a battle-dome.
It fit the bill: a flat and circular arena, crowned two-stories up by a hemisphere of glass windows which lapsed iridescent in the maelstrom of ecto-fire.
Spectator chairs sat empty, hastily shoved back and knocked over by the Amity Park mall patrons who knew to leg it at the first sound of explosions and the first sign of the atmosphere tipping dark. Admittedly, the patron evacuation took longer than Danny anticipated, and he backed himself into a corner playing defense for the 50 some-odd people who, worn-out on the every-day mundanity of ghost alarms, took their time gathering belongings, or shutting off burners, or working in a few last bites of a burger.
So with the crowd gone and the stage their own, Danny found himself pressed back against a vat of french fry oil, hands braced against the handle of a broom he held out horizontally, which the ghost gripped with equal measure and shoved her full weight against.
“Oh, why not take a little dip, Ghost Boy? I hear the water’s nice.”
“No thanks,” Danny answered, shoving harder. “I never was much of a hot tub guy. You on the other hand—”
Danny set a foot forward and pivoted, body fueling the torque as he spun the broom, and tore the ghost with him, a pirouette to swap their spots and jam the ghost back-pressed to the fryer.
“—you seem like you’d like it hot.”
The ghost barked a laugh, jaw stretching lower and loose than Danny was comfortable with.
“Ha! You sure? Not very heroic of you to deep fry this girl I’m possessing.”
Danny faltered. His grip slipped. His blood chilled to ice as the information clicked in place – as he recognized the sensation of a ghost talking through someone. This wasn’t the ghost’s own form. This was some girl. How had he not felt—
A blast took him by the ribs. Danny doubled over, immediately kicked back. A foot found contact with his face, driving him down, until the girl’s wet and slippery fingers pinned him down by the wrists.
Danny strained. He could pivot his wrist a fraction of an inch left or right, but he could not break the hold.
“Get off me!”
And a voice answered from behind him.
“I can help with that.”
Danny craned his neck. Upside down, vantage point from the floor, he registered Sam’s combat boots slam into focus. She bent to one knee, a bazooka locked on the other. It charged, whined, and erupted with an explosion of green light.
The ghost shrieked. It took only an instant of resistance before the ghost tore cleanly from the girl possessed.
“Now if you don’t mind me—” Tucker, by the voice. Danny heard the whine of a Fenton Thermos heating up. “—I’d officially like to change my order from fries to soup.”
The beam burst forth, and the writhing, shrieking, yelping form of the exorcised ghost clawed and scratched in Danny’s direction before the thermos consumed her in full.
“Really? ‘Fries to soup’? Even Danny can do better than that.”
“Hey,” Danny answered.
“I was thinking on my feet, Sam. I didn’t hear any witty quips from you.”
The conversation fell away from Danny’s focus as the full human weight of the possessed girl dropped down on him. Gently, Danny gripped her by the shoulder, lifting her as he pushed himself into a sitting position.
“Your parents’ anti-possession gear is getting good. I don’t think I’ve seen an exorcism work that quickly.” Sam’s voice, now at his side. Danny glanced over, finding her kneeling beside him. “Is she hurt?”
Danny gave the girl a once-over. She was pale, cold, lips seeping blue. A mottled, blackish bruise spread across her temple, partially hidden beneath loose red bangs.
“I don’t… totally know. I didn’t land any hits on her, thankfully. But who knows what that ghost might have done. We should call an ambulance.”
“On it,” Tucker, from behind.
“Do you… do you think the bazooka might have hurt her?” Sam asked.
Danny shook his head. “Mom and Dad have blasted each other with that thing a hundred times. Dad got himself possessed by the box ghost for a trial run. It doesn’t hurt people. …Maybe she just needs a minute.”
“Lay her down, maybe?”
“Good idea.”
Danny eased forward, careful in his movements. Something about his grip slipped, sliding loose and rolling forward, and she fell unceremoniously from his arms, shoulder knocking ground as she lay there partially turned on her side.
“Danny!”
“Sorry! I didn’t—something slipped!”
“Well don’t leave her like—” Sam gripped a hand to the girl’s shoulder, weight behind her wrist to roll the girl fully onto her back. Sam’s hand froze, and then yanked away.
“What?” Danny asked.
“That didn’t feel right.” Sam only stared down, her hand hovering, twitching in increments. “Way too cold… and loose.”
“Loose?”
“Danny, look at her hands. What’s wrong with her hands?”
Danny looked. The skin stretched and wrapped the bones of her fingers as if rotated partway around. Her fingernails sat off-center, twisted around and bunched up like a glove. Sam’s hand came back into view, and she clamped it to the girl’s wrist.
“It’s like jelly. Danny it’s like jelly. Why is she this cold? Danny, I don’t think she’s—”
Something new caught Danny’s eye, a purple discoloration peeking out from the bottom ruffles of the girl’s shirt. His hands seemed to move on their own as he reached down, and pinched the bottom of her shirt, and pulled it back.
Black bruising consumed her torso, caving deep and bloating, pruning around the trails of heavy stitching that ran along the tracks of surgical cuts carving through her abdomen.
Danny yanked his hand away as if burned.
“Danny, she’s not breathing.”
The rest of Danny’s thoughts drowned in the swelling wail of the approaching ambulance siren.
…
Outside the Fenton Portal, green lighting doused the only part of Danny’s form not hidden in shadow, and danced with the fire of his glowing green eyes. Danny uncapped the thermos in his hand, and he trailed his thumb along the eject switch.
A new consuming green light belted forth, lasting only a moment until it vanished with a twin-braided ghost in its wake. The ghost blinked, smoothing over her hair and pulling the ends of her braids over her shoulders.
“Oh, it’s the Ghost Boy again. I thought you’d just throw me back in the Ghost Zone. Are you interested in a round 2?”
“No, not interested,” Danny answered, tone colder than ice.
“Yeesh, you’re quite sour. No more puns?”
“Why were you possessing that girl?”
“Hmm?”
“Why were you possessing her?”
The ghost blinked, green portal light mixing murkily with her purple eyes. “No particular reason. It was just a joyride.”
“A joyr—she was dead.”
Another blink. “Yeah I know. She was sitting in the morgue. She was in like a car crash or something and they already took all her organs. They didn’t need her. And I was gonna give her back, but you had to go and make it a whole thing.” The girl swooped forward, eyes wide and roving over Danny. “You seem mad. Wanna call a truce?” She stuck a hand forward. “I’m Melissa, by the way.”
Danny jolted, eyes flashing brighter. “No, you’re not. That girl was Melissa.”
“Oh for real?” Melissa let out a chuckle. “Crazy coincidence. I like don’t even know that many Melissas. Anyway truce?”
“No.” Danny ran his fingers through his hair. “You were possessing the body of a dead girl and you made me fight her! Don’t you see how that’s—that’s so—how fucked up—that you’d even—”
“Well I mean, I didn’t make you fight me. You made that happen. I was minding my business.”
“Doing what?”
“Shopping. Why else would I take a body for a joyride? I stole some cute clothes to wear. Stole some food to eat. Oh! That outfit I was wearing when we were fighting? Yeah I picked that out. She was in like a hospital gown when I found her. Super cute improvement right?”
An ectoblast sounded and connected with the wall behind Melissa, missing her a foot to the right. Danny’s hand glowed, and his eyes focused with a razor sharpness.
“Stop talking like that, okay? It’s pissing me off. I need you to tell me you know this was fucked up.”
Melissa put a finger to her chin. “I mean I guess stealing is kinda wrong. They were all like, big box corporate stores don’t worry.”
“The. Dead. Body.”
And Melissa fell silent a moment, violet eyes probing deep into Danny’s before widening. “Oh. Oh you’re like for-real mad about that. Like actually. I thought you were like, making an ironic joke.”
“Why the hell would I be joking about this??”
Melissa cocked her head to the side. “Well because you’re doing it too, duh. Like, duh.”
A huff of air cut against Danny’s teeth, an involuntary noise, incredulous, a guffaw he didn’t consciously make. The jelly sensation of decomposing flesh was back under his fingers. “I am not—would never—I’ve never even seen a dead body before this thing with you and I’d never in a million years even think for even a fucking second that I’d want to possess a dead body. What’s wrong with you?!”
Melissa bobbed a little in the air, ends of her braids trailing over the straps of her ephemeral sundress. “See this is why I really can’t tell if you’re joking or not. What are you talking about? You’re doing it right now.” She clasped her hands behind her back. “The black-haired boy whose corpse you’re possessing. Why are you allowed to do it?”
Danny froze. He laughed, heavy, with an uncomfortable force. “Myself, you mean? I’m not possessing myself. I am myself. I’m a half-ghost.”
Melissa met his laugh. “Oh what? No way like, that’s your own corpse? How’d you even get back to it in time? That’s crazy lucky like you must have died right near a portal or something.”
An involuntary shiver traced down Danny’s spine.
“…I’m not dead.” His eyes shifted around, and Danny dropped to the floor. He set a hand against the wall, throwing on the lights to the Fenton basement. Rings swept around his form, green iridescent eyes sweeping blue, white hair seeping black. “Look. Literally look at me. I’m not dead.”
And Melissa swooped closer. She set a finger to her bottom lip and hovered a foot in front of Danny, drinking him in. She swept to the side, like a swimmer in the water, sweeping around him in a full arc. She edged closer and pinched her fingers against the exposed skin on Danny’s arm. He flinched.
“Oh wow there’s like, not even any decay or anything. Your human brain even feels like it’s working it’s all like, electro-magnety. How long were you dead before you got back to your body?”
“I didn’t die.”
“Then what did happen?”
“I got shocked by the Fenton Portal, okay? It was just a lab accident and it gave me powers.”
“Oh. Oh.” Melissa’s eyes shot wide. “Oh you didn’t die near a portal… You died in a portal. You didn’t even have to get back to find your body at all. You must have appeared like practically on top of your own body. That’s crazy lucky. That’s so lucky. Your body was like, probably only dead a microsecond before you hopped back in. No wonder it’s so well-preserved.”
Danny swatted her away. “You’re not listening to me.”
“You’re not listening to me.” Melissa floated backwards. “What do you think is more likely? A bajillion ecto-volts somehow gave you superpowers that exactly mirror everything a regular dead ghost can do? …Or you died, and became a regular old ghost, and did what any regular old ghost can do, which is possess a freshly-dead dead body?”
“…I’m half-ghost,” Danny answered, human heart pounding in his chest. “I know what I am.”
Melissa bobbed back, feet pointed backwards until the soles of her feet skimmed the matrix of the portal. “I see you’ve made up your mind. That’s alright. But it was still pretty mean of you to accuse me like a big hypocrite like that.”
“I’ll destroy you if you ever try that again.”
“Oh I’ll try asking permission next time okay? Promise.” Melissa’s feet sank into the surface of the portal. “But, before I go, I’ve just got one more question to leave you with.”
“Go.”
“Why should a lethal accident do anything other than kill you?”
“Go.”
“Maybe you’ll have an answer for me next time I see you. Byeee!”
A spark of white erupted from the portal, consuming, absorbing, and fizzling out as Melissa’s form vanished into the ether beyond.
…
“Hey! Yo! Danny, come check this out!”
Danny rounded the stairs, unsocked feet creaking the floorboards with each step. Danny yawned, and blinked, and rubbed at his bruised eyes with the sleeve of his pajama top.
“Still asleep? That’s fine! You don’t have to do anything. Just come over here and look at what your old pop’s been up to.”
Danny entered the living room, where Jack sat hunched on the couch surrounded by an arsenal of power tools, rags, oil, soldering equipment, and scrap metal. From beside him he hefted a bazooka into view.
“This is the Fentonzooka 3.2.17. Amped up and equipped with all the latest in ghost-busting and human-saving technology.”
Danny blinked. “3.2.17?”
“Yep. This baby’s got 17 bug patches, tweaks, and internal improvements since the 3.2.0. The 3.2.0 was the advent of the snack compartment in the side. Look!” Jack spun a dial, revealing a chamber half-filled with pistachios.
Danny only stared.
Jack hefted the bazooka onto his shoulder. “Even better, Mads and I finally got rid of the last little sting humans feel when it’s fired. It’s now completely 100% harmless to humans. It feels like the breeze from a standing fan when it hits ya.” Jack turned, and he aimed the barrel at Danny. “Wanna try it out?”
Danny stood, and Danny stared, and Danny said nothing.
What might happen when it hit him?
Would it hit like the gentle breeze of a fan? Wash over him like air conditioning? Tingle cool and pleasant against his human fingers, human face, human skin?
Would it do something else?
Why should a lethal accident do anything other than kill you?
Jack eased the bazooka a bit off center, pulling his eyes away from the sight. He stared directly at Danny. “Danny?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you want to try it out?”
Danny stood.
Danny stared.
Danny wondered if he’d have an answer for Melissa the next time he saw her.
#danny phantom#dp#dp fanfiction#long post#this idea is actually from uhhhhhh probably like 2 years ago#back when i was still in the midst of not being able to write anything so#stuck this idea in the microwave for this warm up fic
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A Family Affair
Slasher AU CannibalFamily!EraserMicxReader
We’re going with the “strange family that lives outside of a small town” trope. After a few deliveries to the Aizawa household you get pulled in to an affair you never wanted to be a part of.
Spooky season is upon us and I’ve already begun watching too many horror movies.
This fic will definitely be a two parter
Super Dark Content Warning!!! Literally do not read if you have any reservation and definitely no minors!
TW: cannibal themes, mentions of murder, mentions of corpse mutilation, kidnapping, unhealthy relationships
Part 2 is gonna include more of this and the smut
Growing up you were grateful for living in a small town. You didn't really relate to the coming-of-age stories told in the movies where the small town girl runs off to the big city for a whirlwind romance and a chance at some "big break." To you, small town life was more picturesque than any overcrowded city. You knew your neighbors, and watched a lot of their families grow and change throughout the years. A small town allows you to become a regular at several businesses, including the coffee shop and your favorite diner downtown. Going away to college was tough even though you didn't go far. The nearest city - a little over 40 miles away - had a great college with a program you were really interested in pursuing.
You went home every break and picked up delivery jobs at one of the local restaurants. It was winter break of your last year in college when you first delivered to the Aizawa residence. In all your years at the restaurant they never ordered delivery, one of the two men would always place an order for pick up. The thing about small town stereotypes is that small towns tend to self-impose said stereotypes. The Aizawa's were that family. The one that everyone whispered when they came to town and children would tell horror stories about during Halloween. They were the weird family that lived just past the outskirts of town.
You weren't entirely sure what either of the two men did. Everyone speculated that Mr. Aizawa was some sort of mountain-man-feral type and maybe did some mechanic work for the folks that tend to live in between towns. His husband, Mr. Yamada seemed like the stay at home trophy husband but you heard he did some sort of conspiracy podcast. They had children - reportedly, but no one has really met them - and other family members that live similarly further out into the middle of nowhere. The drive was absurdly long but they were loyal customers and the owners didn't want to turn their request down. Your boss handed you a chunk of bills to fill up your tank before heading out. That's no place you'd want to get stranded, he told you.
The paved road got worse the further you got from town. Forty-five minutes later you were pulling down the dirt road that led to the illuminated Aizawa home. A wall of cold air slammed in to you when you opened your car door and you grumbled about leaving your gloves at home. There was no doorbell, so knocked and did that awkward please-don't-let-me-freeze dance while you waited. Two unfamiliar faces opened the door, an apathetic looking teen and an adorable little girl. Must be their children. The older one called out for his dad before taking one of the bags you held and disappearing into the home. You looked down awkwardly and wave at the girl. She smiled shyly and reached out for the other bag.
"Are you sure?" You asked her, "It's a little heavy."
She nodded.
"Okay, but use two hands," You passed her the bag. "Oh jeez, you're strong. Don't tell your brother, but I think this is the heavier bag."
You smiled when she giggled and ran off.
Mr. Aizawa appeared in the door, "How much do we owe?"
He was just as terrifying up close and for a split second your mind went blank while your basic instincts were begging you go back to the car. He raised an eyebrow at you, looking irritated at your falter.
"Uh - forty-two."
He pulled counted out a chunk of bills and then you were off. You didn't even count the amount until you parked. Forty-two with a forty-dollar tip. They may be odd but apparently they're loaded. You didn't think much of it until the following week when you were heading back to their house with another delivery. You wished that they would order earlier but at least you could hope for another generous tip. You were taken aback when the little girl answered the door by herself, jumping up and down with excitement.
Was she old enough to answer the door by herself?
"Papa," She yelled. "The lady is here!"
She turned her attention back to you with a huge grin, "Shinsou got sore that you told me I'm the stronger one."
Before you could respond to her the other man, Mr. Yamada, bounced around the corner, "Eri, what have we told you about the door? Oh no, you must be freezing come stand inside while I go get your payment. Forty-two right?"
You wanted to protest, feeling uneasy in their entryway but the little girl tugged you by the delivery bags. So you stood there quietly while she ran back in forth so she could unload the delivery for you. Shinsou peered around the corner so you gave a small wave. Then it was just you and Eri once again. In the background you could hear Yamada asking his husband where the wallet went.
"I like your shirt," You smiled, trying to fill the silence.
"I wanted a Pegasus shirt but this was the only one my daddy could find."
"Well I think unicorns are pretty cool too."
You use to babysit for some of the families in town, no part of you could imagine doing that all the way out here.
The blonde rejoined you, giving you another lush payment. You heard the little girl whine about you leaving so quickly until her father appeased her by saying you'd be back.
Something about that rubbed you the wrong way; but you were back like clockwork the next week with their usual delivery. Once again you were brought inside while they went to get your payment. But on your fourth and what should have been your final delivery of the winter break you noticed something was off when you parked. Their truck was missing from its usual spot. Strange but they probably just moved it somewhere else on the property. You had become accustom Eri running to answer the door and telling you wait for her parents in the entrance of the house. You became suspicious after she had run back and forth to take the food to the kitchen.
"Eri, where are your parents? Or Shinsou?"
The little girl's response was nonchalant, "They had to go out, one of our cattle got out. But they gave me the money."
You stuffed the money into your jacket; payment was the issue here. In the back of your mind you though about how you never saw any cattle on your deliveries. A child her age shouldn’t be left alone.
"Oh, well, can I hang out with you while we wait for them to come back?"
The little girl lit up as she pulled you to the living room. There was a kid's movie playing on the TV and she had a coloring book out. Eri divide up her crayons and tore out a page for you to join her. You kept looking to the window, waiting for the truck to pull up.
Suddenly there was banging at the door, which elicited a cry from Eri. You reached into your pocket only finding the crumpled bills. Shit, your stomach dropped. You left your phone in your car. After all, this was just supposed to be a quick delivery. The noise stopped, only for a moment, before resuming.
"Eri, sweetie," You whispered to the stunned little girl. "Do your parents have a phone here?"
She shook her head.
A man’s voice tore through the door, "Let me in dammit, you have to let me in before they come back."
You held your finger to your lip, and Eri nodded, repeating the gesture. The living room light was on and you realized that if he came to the side of the house you'd be seen through the window, but turning out the light would draw attention. Maybe he was bluffing, maybe he didn't know if anyone was inside and turning off the light would signal your presence. You pointed to the kitchen, where the lights were off and the two of you tip toed to the safety of darkness.
"Eri, honey, can you go sit in the pantry for me and be really, really quiet? I'll be right out here and don't come out until I come to get you okay?"
She looked hesitant and tearful but you were surprised at her level of composure for a kid. Finally she complied. Once the pantry door was closed you began rummaging through the drawers, looking for something that could inflict the most damage. A meat tenderizer could work. The banging continued and you swore you hear wood beginning to splinter. Your grip tightened with every bang. Finally the door gave way and a man stumbled through the splintered wood. He stopped when he saw you holding the cleaver.
He was dirty, without shoes or a shirt and his skin was red from the cold.
You hoped your voice wouldn’t crack, "You need to leave-"
"Monsters, monsters," he blabbed. "They're gonna come back and we gotta go."
You decided to bluff, "Get out of here, I already called the cops."
"Good, good, good," He mumbled, “but we still gotta go. NOW."
There was one step forward from him, one step back from you.
"If you come near me, I'll make sure you don't get up," You warned. At the very least you had to keep him away from Eri. Even if that was all you could do.
There was a desperate look in his eyes; they darted from you to the keys hooked to your jeans, then back to the keys. Finally he smiled, "You have a car, man that's perfect. Listen I won't hurt you but we need to get in your damn car, now."
Sounds like something someone who wants to hurt me would say, you thought. Apparently you took too long to respond, the man lunged toward you and you tried to swing the meat tenderizer. The tool connected with his shoulder and he howled out in pain but still managed to wrestle you to the ground. The two of you struggled with each other and the man was yelling that you'd die if you didn't listen to him. You landed a weak hit to his jaw, splitting his lip. You even tried biting at him but he was persistent and struggling to get your keys. You were telling him he could have them that he just needed to let you go but he wasn't listening to you. Managing to grab his ear you had a flashback to the self-defense seminar you had to take in college, it should be easy to rip a human ear. So you pulled. Blood began to flow from the wound down his face and on to you. He got you off him before you got the whole ear by delivering a blow to your stomach. The air rushed from your body, is this what it means to get the wind knocked out of you?
There was a loud noise and fog lights flooded through the broken door. Then saw Shinsou and Aizawa pulling the man off you. You pushed yourself and back, clutching at your stomach. Your cheeks were wet. Were you crying or was that blood on your face? Probably both.
The trio wrangled the man outside where you heard more struggling, fighting, and groaning.
Eri. You managed your way to the kitchen but realized you were covered in blood. Not wanting to traumatize the little girl any further you spoke through the door.
"Eri, can you stay there a little bit longer?"
"Can't I come out? I heard my daddies," She cried, tugging at your heartstrings.
"Not yet, okay? They're here and everything's okay, I'm gonna have them come get you okay?"
Thankfully, the door didn't open. As you shuffled toward the front door Mr. Yamada entered, wiping specks of blood off him.
You were shocked when he pulled you into a hug, "You're okay. Sho and Shinsou got everything under control. Where is Eri?"
You told him about her hiding spot and he sighed in relief and rushed to her.
The other two returned with bloodied knuckles that made your stomach churn.
"Yamada," The mountain man called, with his eyes scanning the home.
"Don't worry, Sho, I got Eri. She's fine. Our delivery girl is okay, she's got some bumps and bruises but she made the other guy look worse."
Aizawa ushered you to the couch, expecting your legs to give out at any moment.
"We need to call the police," You finally spoke.
Aizawa assured you he did. They were 45 minutes out but they'd work on getting here faster. Yamada brewed you a cup of tea, “for while we wait.” They finally calmed Eri down and Shinsou took her upstairs to get ready for bed. It felt weird for them to return to mundane evening routines so quickly after all that chaos, but maybe you were just the odd one out. Close to an hour later you were still waiting for the police to show up. Your tea was finished long ago and your nerves had calmed. You were even having trouble keeping your eyes open.
"You think they're almost here, babe" The blonde wondered, draping a throw blanket around your shoulders. "I'm sure she wants to this day to be over with."
---
It was still dark when you woke up. The blonde was fast asleep on the recliner next to you. The police must have come by now but there was no way you slept through the visit. Anxiety from earlier made it’s way back in to your chest. The clock read 4am; had they even called the police. All of the childhood rumors you heard came flooding back and you exited the house as quietly as you could, not realizing your keys were no longer with you.
When you made it outside you noticed dried blood on the ground, trailing toward what you assumed was their barn or storage shed. You were entranced. Looking back to the house, no one was awake; there was no movement, no light, just quiet. You shouldn’t follow the bloody trail, you shouldn't go near the shed; but your body moved on it's own accord and before you realized it you were at the doors. You gave a tug, expecting it to be locked, but the door swung open and inside you noticed the lock lay on the ground.
You should have turned around, got in your car, and drove away. Instead you stepped inside and found the bloody, broken body of the man who attacked you. There was a slight sway to the corpse that was hanging from a reinforced pillar. Nearly screaming your hand shot to cover your mouth.
You should've left.
You should've left.
You should've left.
Aizawa was watching you from the kitchen, cursing Hizashi for leaving the shed unlocked. His hand hovered over the secured cabinet drawer that stored a pistol. He wouldn't shoot you only scare you a bit. But you weren't running out in a panic. He didn't even hear you scream. Interesting. He went to join you, moving like any predator concealing it presence and leaving the gun safe untouched.
You should've left.
You should've left.
You finally came to your sense and whirled around only to run into your late night admirer. A terrified squeak escaped you as you jumped further into the confined space.
"Mr Aizawa! I'm sorry, I shouldn't have - I'm sorry."
He didn't look angry, although you wished he did. It would be better than the unsettling smile on his face.
"That's alright, I was heading out here anyway," He closed the door behind him and flicked on a dim light that lit up the room with shadows. "Can't leave it hanging for too long."
Your throat tightened, he stood between you and the only exit. If he noticed your terror there was no indication that he cared. He turned his back to you momentarily, rummaging through the clutter on the workbench. Now was the best chance you may get and you made a dash for the door. It was a futile attempt and part of you knew it but your nerves were ablaze with adrenaline and you were running on instinct not reason. There was a foreign tightness around your throat that kept you fighting to inhale. Struggling to breathe you didn’t even register the sharp pinch of a needle piercing your deltoid.
Aizawa pressed his nose to your hair, "Behave. Even if you get out of here, your tire has a flat, pesky nails tend to find their way on to the roads out here. A real shame."
He dragged you over to a chair across from the lifeless body cuffing both your wrists to the armrests. Stupid, stupid, he was grabbing out cuffs and I ran straight into him, you scolded yourself. You went to open your mouth and beg to be let go, but you were silenced.
"Keep it down or I'll have to find a way to keep you quiet."
Your heart was beating so hard it hurt. Once a friend said it was possible to die by fright, if that was true you wouldn't last much longer. Now that you were safely out of the way, Aizawa could make quick work dismembering the carcass. He donned his usual rubber apron and pulled back his hair. With his experience he could finish the job in less than two hours. Now was as good a time as ever for you to learn.
With a sigh he began his explanation and craft:
"Cannibalism has been around as long as we've existed: sacrificially, ceremonially, culturally, especially during times of plague, war, and famine. You can find documented accounts from pretty much every part of the world. And there's no one reason. Our family keeps it simple. We eat meat, animals are meat, and humans are animals. In times of famine and other hardships, this was a reliable food source. Of course now, there's not much of a risk for severe famine to effect people like us but it's tradition. This is how it's been for our family for years. And not just those of us around these parts but our relatives everywhere. It's important to keep old trades alive."
He paused, now splattered with blood, to take note of your dry heaving.
"Please," You gasped. "I just want to go -"
With narrowed eyes he continued:
"It's important for you to listen to our family history. Typically we don't reap a harvest until three weeks after the winter solstice and 3 weeks before the summer solstice. Twice a year is enough to get us by. Zashi and I are impressed that you managed to wrangle him in. Poetic in a way, don’t ’cha think? Consuming the flesh of someone who tried to overpower you. First reap of the harvest. Nice that it's a family affair."
The room was spinning and you were fighting the sedative as hard as you could. There was no way any of this was real, maybe you were dreaming? Maybe you'd been knocked unconscious when that man rushed you. Or better yet, maybe you were asleep at home still. It was possible that this whole delivery fiasco was just a nightmare. Your stomach churned at the speech. There was sun peaking through the cracks in the wall by the time he finished separating the ... different sections. There was no more body, just pieces. You nodded off for a few minutes before being jolted awake by the door opening and letting in the bright morning light .
"Good morning, you two night owls," Hizashi beamed. Walking to his husband handing over a tall mug of coffee. He was completely unfazed by the scene he walked in on. In fact the only frown he made was when Aizawa said he put too much sweetener in the coffee. "Anyways, grumpy pants, I called your sister. She's on her way to pick up Eri and Shinsou for a few days. To give us some time to focus on our little muse. Speaking of, I should go get her some water. Oh, plus we need to fix our door."
---
After you refused to drink anything they tried to give you they left you alone in the shed. The handcuffs were too tight for you to slip through and in your struggle you managed to topple the chair over, hitting the floor with painful slap. It was hard to ignore the buzzing of the flies swarming the space where the body once hung. You closed your eyes, your mind wandering to your family and what they would think when they realized you were missing.
Outside you heard a car pull up and were tempted to scream for someone to help you. Maybe it was the police; maybe someone realized you didn't go home last night and found out where your last delivery was. Your captors came out to greet whoever it was and you were glad you didn't yell, they sounded friendly. They were coming toward the shed but you were too defeated to react.
"Sho," Hizashi gasped, "She fell."
The response was sharp and sarcastic, "I hadn't noticed." He yanked you up with ease and the world was no longer side ways but the jolt paired with the exhaustion and drugs left the world spinning.
The woman must've been the sister they mentioned earlier. She squealed with delight, "Oh isn't she the cutest, lemme get a good look."
She resembled neither of the men and gave off cool-soccer-mom vibes. With a gentle grip on your chin she bore into your eyes.
"Please,” You begged, “I just want go home."
The sister didn't waiver, "Don't worry sweet thing, these two are gonna take such good care of you. Just relax and let them help you."
Help? You don't need help from them. You needed to get out of this hell.
"Okay," She bounced toward the exit, "Bring out my niece and nephew, we're gonna have a fun weekend. And take care of your girl, she looks like a keeper."
Finally you screamed in frustration. Brief, loud, and full of anger but it deflated just as quickly when the two men shot you a menacing look. How could all three of them show no display of empathy? You were again convinced this was an alternate reality when both children peaked their heads in to wave goodbye before they peeled away from the home, leaving you alone with Hizashi and Aizawa.
---
There was a hatch toward the back of the room where the two disappeared until they came back with a third body. They were dragging a woman up like a ragdoll and acidic bile burned your throat. If you had to guess you would say she was late middle age. It felt like they were setting a stage, Hizashi pulled you closer to where they stood while Aizawa managed to tie the woman down to the stained table.
"Why are you doing this," you cried. But they ignored you.
"Did you know there are people who pay for certain oddities and they’re willing to spend big bucks to get what they want? We keep whatever makes sense to eat and sell the rest. Ideally nothing goes to waste.”
The next hour and forty-seven minutes were excruciating. There were several “items” – as they referred to her body parts – that they removed while she was still alive; but finally Aizawa made the perfect incision along her thigh and a pomegranate wave gushed out. There was no way she would suffer much longer with this amount of blood loss.
"Please just let her die," You begged the universe. "Please let it end."
For the first time since starting they stepped back from the body, leaving it on the table to come over to you. Aizawa knelt before you and his bloody hand brushed hair from your face; his thumb rested on your lip and you couldn't even physically respond. Hizashi was behind him, rubbing his partner's shoulders.
"You're going to kill me?”
Both men finally softened, coming down their endorphin high. There was something so satisfying about your question. Arousing, even. They made it clear that your life was up to them, which meant they had you where they needed you.
"Am I having a blonde moment? I don't recall saying we'd kill her."
Aizawa threw an incredulous look his way before addressing you, "We aren't going to kill you. We wouldn't've saved you from that terrible animal if that were the plan. We don't kill just anyone. We wanted to introduce you to our lifestyle and now’s the best chance. Eri’s wanted to keep you since day one, but if you can't behave that'll be an issue. Can you prove to us that you’re going to behave or do we have to get you down into the cellar?”
There was no other choice than to nod. Picking up a piece of the dissected woman Hizashi muttered something about starting dinner before telling his husband that you really need to get more rest. Aizawa agreed, and since it seemed like you were having trouble getting rest he decided to give you another little dose of medicine.
#slasher au#mha x reader#bnha yandere#mha yandere#yandere erasermic#yandere erasermic x reader#yandere x reader
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