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casitafallz-a · 2 years

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Dweller AU | Bruno’s Escape

Bruno picked at his plate, keeping a vague ear out on if his name was called but so far, the conversation between his sisters and mother had been about duty… or the boys that the two were trying to date.

Mama wasn’t fond of Julieta’s choices but Bruno had already done his work; to see if the guy was interested in Julieta for the convenience of her gift. Seeing a man dodge the plaza when Julieta was working her stall with a bee-swollen face had been somewhat entertaining and more so when Julieta noticed and ran after him with an Arepa until the guy tripped over his own foot and broke a rib. It sold it to him that he saw her more than just her gift if he avoided her on ‘mundane’ things as bee stings. Agustín went to her with breaks but he saw that as somewhat reasonable to visit in comparison.

Pepa was seeing a guy but Bruno knew that relationship wasn’t going to last; he didn’t need his gift for that but he had seen another guy, Felix, waiting for his opportunity. He seemed respectful so Bruno was more willing to see how his attempts would go without trying to creep the guy out.

“Bruno.”

He zoned back into reality swiftly at his mother’s words, his head turning automatically to meet her stern gaze.

“Si, mami?” He asked carefully.

“I heard today you gave a few visions today.”

Bruno’s nose wrinkled at the reminder but his shoulders sank “I know, Mami.”

“Is the woman’s death truly unavoidable?”

Both Pepa and Julieta paused in their plates before he felt their soft gaze.

“Nothing to be done.” He confirmed because… he hated those visions. He knew he gave bad visions but this was one of the worst; a death that couldn’t be changed.

Mami set down her cutlery thoughtfully, “Did your vision indicate when this accident will occur?”

Bruno shook his head. “No, but…my gut feels It’ll happen before the week is up.”

Mama nodded. “I’ll see that no one asks for visions for the next month,. An anticipated death will not look good, Bruno’”

His shoulders sunk but he nodded. Mami made sense and he could agree; it made him look very bad. He was already well aware people didn’t like his visions given it wasn’t showing them what they wanted. Who got blamed; him.

A slither of green ticked at his eyes, his vision swirling for a moment as the low ebs of an ache echoed.

“Bruno?” Julieta asked, her hand coming to his arm.

“Tomorrow night.” He blurted out.

“Wait you just said it was before this week is up!” Pepa pointed out.

“Not now, Pepa.” Mami spoke sharply, rising to her feet. “Julieta, why don’t you cook up some extra food? I’ll drop some off tomorrow morning so it seems like we’re trying. It may give Ava Lopez a chance if they already have food at hand.”

Bruno sunk lower into his seat, finishing off his plate quickly before they were dismissed and he took straight to his room.

Thankfully, the steps weren’t too long, or many but he had noticed the few extra every so often over the last 15 years since getting his room but he didn’t think it meant much; He hoped it stopped at some point; he’s hate to climb a whole room of steps for miles just to get to bed.

That said; it’d make it harder for his mother to vent at him for not accomplishing as much as his sisters if she had to go up the steps; the only silver lining.

Bruno dusted the sand from his feet before he happily slipped under the covers, though froze as he heard a squeak.

“Sorry, Chico.” He pulled the disgruntled rat away and settled him on his chest, letting him scuttle about before he slipped into the warm spots.

Tomorrow, a woman would die. Leaving three sons, two daughters without their mother and a husband without a wife. The husband, Adrian Lopez had only come for a vision about the upcoming birth of a grandchild…

Why did visions not go as planned? Why couldn’t the future be what it was wanted; sure the baby girl would be healthy and sure, the loss of Doña Lopez would be sad but which one was going to be remembered here?

Mama was smart; she knew this would back to bite him, after 15 years of it, how could she not know. But… she didn’t see it as he did or like how they saw it.

He was a messenger getting shot and she only wondered why he had the bad messages. Sooner or later, people were going to get worse if he kept giving those types of visions. He could feel it.

A soft knock pulled him from his mind. Bruno sat up, forgetting about Chico who squeaked once again in indignation as he was once again disturbed before he jumped from his bed and scurried away with his complaints.

“Bruno?”

He relaxed, swinging his legs back over the edge of the bed. “Come in, Juli.”

His sister’s face peeked around the door first before she entered.

“I’m sorry today didn’t go as planned,” Julieta said, coming to settle down. “Mama’s going make us all busy trying to help…”

“At least she knows in advance.” Bruno fidgeted, “I hate death visions.”

Julieta sighed, her arms wrapping around him. “Don’t worry. Stay inside. Me and Pepa can handle the crowd.”

“You shouldn’t have to.” He should be better at standing up for himself, he was a man; he could do that himself. But…. All he had was his sisters and mother. No father to look up to, no male role model. He was…just a sign of bad luck and he couldn’t shake that image no matter how many visions he tried. He should probably look into helping with that…salt was a good place to start.

“You’re my little brother.”

“We’re triplets.”

“If I remember correctly, I’m 27 minutes older than you.”

“Ugh.” He poked her stomach playfully, “will that Well ever dry up.”

“Nope.” Julieta laughed, “You’re stuck being the youngest forever!”

Bruno rolled his eyes. “Fine, rub it in. By the time you’re wrinkly old hags, you won’t be rubbing it in because… I’ll be fresh as a daisy and you’ll be jealous. ”

Julieta flicked him on the ear, “Tomorrow breakfast, I’ll make something special.”

Bruno perked up. “Yes please.” Some joy in the bleakness waiting for him tomorrow would be good.

Julieta’s face remained bright for a moment, “I have to go now. I’ll cook some more food in case you get hungry in the night, I doubt Mami would want you sneaking what’s for the Lopezs. I saw you picking more than eating.” She gave him a stern look, rising off the bed fluidly

Bruno smiled, giving a nod and soon he was left alone. Much more alone now Chico had deserted him.

Green filled his vision, waking him from slumber sharply as his heart raced and adrenaline coursed through his veins but he couldn't move, transfixed; the sand around him swirling and he couldn't fight the images that plagued his mind.

Bruno grunted, struggling in the grip of a man that had him in a headlock, dragging him through the outline of trees.

Away from Casita; his home flickering in changing of images that indicated distance before the treeline concealed it away; dragged closer and closer towards a large tree; a noose hanging ready…

“No”

“You got our mother killed, this had gone far enough! We won’t let you kill anyone else!”

“I didn’t—“

The vision ended, the sound of glass breaking echoed but a new vision hit just as quickly.

Bruno was sat, huddled with his mother and sisters; Casita’s walls shut and hostile; her tiles rapidly moving to deflect the outburst of thrown bottles; one lit with flaming material.

The next flicker showed Casita burning under a clear sky. Tiles rippling, trying to fend off the group forcing their way inside, stepping over Pepa’s still form.

“Bruno!” His mother was helpless as he was dragged from her side. A gun held to her face; keeping her there was she held onto Julieta’s wounds. Agustín dead at her side; having shielded his date-to-be from the worst of it.

“Mama!”

Then it cut off.

Glass breaking as he once again failed to catch the vision.

Then a third; more painful but different.

Bruno was hurriedly filling his bags with clothes, Personal items and raiding Julieta’s kitchen. A donkey outside, he loaded it up swiftly. Bruno was standing in front of his mother’s window, staring at the candle, reaching out in hope.

The candlelight flickered and grew. Then Casita shuddered. A hole opened up further away from Casita.

Bruno walked along down the street, waving once at a townsperson as they closed up for the night.

Underground now, Bruno was surprised to see a grand opening to a deeper cave system. Water rushing through…a bedroom; a field of wheat, the outlines of others…

Hope.

Bruno gasped as he was finally released, barely catching the last tablet that formed but he didn’t bother looking; he damn well knew which future he intended to take. He tossed it off the side of the bed, untangling his body from the covers.

His heart thumped and he could feel the fear in his chest. He couldn’t stay here. If he stayed, he’d die. If he hid, he’d be found; his sister would be killed… Julieta would be hurt. They didn’t deserved that. Mami didn’t deserve to see him dragged away to his death. It had been 20 years since she saw his Papi die; he couldn’t do that to her.

No.

He sucked in a heavy breath; trying to dampen down the beat of his heart; to think. Rushing off wouldn’t help him. Not… not yet. He had time. The other two visions.. that wasn’t tomorrow. But it would be soon if… if he didn’t leave. Where was he leaving to?

Bruno’s hand shook, clenching them tightly into his night-shirt before he turned his gaze to the images on the floor.

The broken image of being dragged to the noose, the broken image of behind dragged from his mother’s side, the broken image of him with the loaded donkey in the pitch of darkness; a lantern in one hand.

A lump formed in his throat, forcing him to take measured breaths. The idea of leaving his siblings…his family…His home. It ached at his heart. He didn’t want to go…

He slipped his feet back into his sandals, burying his face into his hands before he found his palms wet and his breath becoming ragged.

“¡Mierda!” He roared, his palms muffling the pain in his voice.

His heart thudded in his chest as he clambered up onto the roof. His mother’s shutters were open; the candle was on display like it usually was. Carefully, he straightened up, staring for a moment at the tinkling magical specks that drifted from its wick.

On the inside, he could see his mother asleep on the bed, curled up but otherwise deep asleep with a slight frown on her features but looked otherwise peaceful. It tugged at his heart; this would be the last time he’d be seeing her. At least, he’d have a pleasant memory; they didn’t depart on bad terms. It would be easier on her too.

Bruno took a deep breath, turning his gaze back to the candle. A candle that granted his mother a miracle; he needed one now. He reached forwards placing his hands against its warm body as he had done 15 years ago. Its warmth spread through his body and it almost felt soothing; pressing away some of his fear.

I need a refuge to escape from those out to hurt us. He begged, not willing to speak aloud and wake his mother, I need a place to protect me and others that are at risk. Encanto it not safe. We are not safe. He wasn’t sure if the magic could respond, green flickers echoed for a moment through his mind before he felt the whole casita give a shudder.

Bruno let go and dropped out of sight as his mother’s breath caught, the sound of her waking. Casita groaned and he jumped off the edge of the roof; Casita’s bannisters caught him before he ducked to his door frame and stopped.

Soon, the Casita’s shudders stopped and fell still.

Bruno stayed in place for a good five minutes before he felt safe to move, poking his head out to see the candle moved and the shutters to his mother’s room shut.

A close call.

He swallowed thickly. A few tiles under him wiggled. He looked down, seeing the ripple of tiles guesting him away, he followed until he got to the doors then the tiles along the roof edged him onwards outwards and along.

He followed again until he found himself staring at an opening in the ground beside his tower; the one he saw in the vision. It would lead him down; refuge.

“Thank you, Casita.” He whispered, “Give me ten minutes.”

With a newly stolen donkey, Bruno pulled her along, his back on her back and walking down the centre of the road, he gave a few nods and waves to the lingering few still out and prepping for bed.

Good. He was seen to be leaving. It made sense to why; if he just ‘disappeared’ it’d look to the assailants like he’d be hiding in Casita. He had to be seen leaving to convince them he was truly gone. It was solid; no one would think to question it anymore. The family would react accordingly; believable.

They’d be fine.

He paused as he entered a deserted area, taking the long route back up towards Casita before he had to tug the reins to get the donkey to go down the opening but after they crossed the threshold, it began to close up behind them.

Safe.

Hidden.

Bruno could live with that.

#bruno madrigal #dweller bruno #encanto #encanto au #pepa madrigal #dweller alma #dweller julieta #julieta madrigal #felix madrigal #agustin madrigal #agustín madrigal #dweller agustin #dweller felix #dweller au #drabble #implied attempted murder tw #alma madrigal

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madmanwonder · 1 month

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Ask

Law and Crime: Criminal- Mafia AU

How would the Branwen Mafia Head herself Raven deal with a woman named Summer getting too close to "her man" Tai?

"Tyrian will take 'care' of the red-haired whore." Raven replied in a icily calm voice, red eyes narrowed in a sharp glare.

#rwby #raven branwen #tyrian callows #summer rose #taiyang xiao long #rwby canary #rwby yellow rose #law and crime au #law and crime au ask #criminal au #criminal au ask #mafia au #mafia au ask #tw: attempted murder #tw: implied violence #tw: implied attempt murder

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ayyy-imma-ninja · 10 months

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For each brothers how would they react to finding a child being attacked by killer? Like how different would it be if it was just one of them alone and together? Like the scenario

(Sorry i didn’t know how to properly word this without making it kinda in a roleplay way)

so if another killer was attacking a child? And if the boys were either alone or together when this happens?

If either were alone (and no one else happened to be around) their first priority would be to save the child. Get them away from the killer. If the child is injured, call the authorities. They each have the strength to hold down a human.

If they were together (and again, assuming no one else was around), Sun would help rescue the child and get them to safety, either the police station or a hospital. And Moon would take care of the rest.

#answered ask #dca!serial killer au #tw attempted murder #tw attempted kidnapping #serial killer duo #sk sun #sk moon #implied murder #rulebreakers

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areiacannaid · 8 months

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Declination

What if Halt joined Morgarath instead of the Rangers? A small AU based off of this prompt/story idea from @nilswolf8.

Link to read on AO3

“I could use a man like you in my ranks.” Morgarath said, finally getting to the point behind the clandestine nighttime meeting he had summoned Halt to.

“I can’t say I care much for the idea of being used.” Halt replied, truth cutting through the sarcastic way he had phrased it.

“Merely an expression,” Morgarath assured with a wave of his hand. “Regardless, I would value someone with talents like yours. And there’s much that I could offer you in return for your services.”

And, now that the offer was out in the open, Halt allowed himself to consider it.

When he had first come to Araluen, he’d had a vague idea of joining the Rangers. That was how he had been trained, and their high, influential, position in Araluen was no secret. He’d been interested in seeing what he could gain by working his way up to the top of such an organization. Although he had always preferred to work in the shadows, power promised a sense of control and protection in a way nothing else could manage. Halt had spotted his opportunity when he met, and saved, Crowely in that tavern. But the Rangers were not the seat of power they had once been and the tides of war were shifting.

Which left his choice between Crowley and Morgarath. He knew enough to guess that Crowley might be the safer person—but, in the end, it really wasn’t about people.

Halt had learned long ago there was no such thing as love or loyalty. People only ever used others for as long as they had something to gain, and then simply discarded them when that use had run its course. All that really mattered was how much one could extract from those connections before they invariably died.

The choice really came down to what could be attained in the end, and what path offered the greatest chance for survival.

Halt had no real sense of connection to the Rangers. That had ended the day his old life had, deep within the cool blackness of the river that had nearly claimed his life.

A sharp memory of pain caused him to reach a hand towards his chest. The passage of time had done nothing to temper his memory of that day, and he doubted it ever would. He’d been reborn from the water that had been intended as his grave. He’d clawed his way to the bank, gasping for breath, water stained red and pink with the blood his injuries dripping around him. His mouth had been seared with the ash of desperate but unheeded words—the last time he had ever called for mercy or help.

His fingers brushed against the twisted scar tissue beneath his clothes, but felt no sensation save for the numbness of severed nerve endings. It was a blank nothingness that matched the cavernous feeling that had settled deep inside his chest since that day. He didn’t know if he even remembered anymore what it truly felt like to feel.

Everyone he'd ever thought he’d loved had either tried to kill him, or had left him to die. So, connections and sentiment meant nothing to him.

In the end it really was an easy choice. Morgarath simply had more to offer than the Ranger’s ever could. He had the greater odds for victory and therefore promised a greater chance of survival and a greater chance of potential gain. It was the smarter, more logical option. And he’d be lying if he said he was unsympathetic to anyone daring to rebel against a vitiated King and bring an end to the corrupt nobility he so despised.

“Well, what do you say?” Morgarath’s sibilant voice broke the grip of his revelry.

“I’d say we should talk terms,” Halt said.

Morgarath smiled, eyes bright with a calculating light. “Let's hear them then.”

He listened as Halt stated his counter offers, reasonable terms for spoils and a higher more autonomous position on Morgarath’s ranks.

“Prove your worth to me and you will have all that you asked for,” Morgarath said, holding out his hand to signal his agreement.

Halt took the offered hand.

~x~X~x~

Halt stood in the wreckage of a burning village, the place where the last vestiges of the King’s army had fled after their crushing defeat at Hackham Heath. The King and several of his knights had escaped—but they had been the only ones to do so.

Halt’s strategy, combined with Morgarath’s Wargal army, had decimated the King’s forces. They had chased the last of them here to this village; a place they had tried, and failed, to find refuge and defensive footing.

The broken remnants of the King’s army had not been enough to defend this small village from the massive force of Wargals Morgarath had sent. That was clear enough from the carnage around him. The bodies of Wargals, soldiers, and villagers lay intermingled where they had fallen: the unavoidable price of war.

Halt inhaled the sharp smoke from the fires burning around him, his bow at full draw and leveled at the last standing soldier—if a child could really be called an enemy soldier.

The boy, no more than twelve years old at the most if Halt had to guess, stood defiantly, sword held defensively in front of him, eyes shining with wild determination. Before his feet sprawled the unmoving bodies of Wargals and even a few men that he had slain. Behind him, clinging desperately to his legs was a younger boy, probably no older than five if he had to guess, and very likely the last survivor of the villagers that had once called this place home. His large brown eyes were blown wide in pain and primal terror.

“Why haven’t you released your arrow?” Morgarath’s sneer came from behind him. “He is the enemy. One less of them breathing is all the better for us. Or is his age too much for your scruples, Halt?”

“It isn’t that,” Halt said blandly. “It’s that killing him would be a waste. I saw him before when I reconnoitered the King’s army camp. He’s the son of Sir David; the newly appointed Battlemaster to the King. I figured he'd be worth more to you alive as leverage.”

“Indeed?” A vicious gleam came to life in Morgarath’s eyes even as his lips curled in a cruel smile. “Then size him and kill the village boy.”

Halt saw the older boy’s eyes widen at that callous order, flashing for the first time with fear and, just as quickly, calculation hastily covered.

He brandished his sword as the soldier’s closed in.

“If I’m worth something to you alive then so is he,” he addressed Morgarath, indicating the younger boy with a tilt of his head. “He’s my brother. If it’s ransom you want, my father would pay for us both.”

“Your brother?” Morgarath challenged scathingly.

“Illegitimate, but yes. My father fell in love with his mother when he was last stationed near this village,” he explained hastily.

As Halt watched the boy, he found himself feeling an unexpected measure of interest towards him. He was skilled in combat, seemed more intelligent than the average knight, and was quick on his feet.

He was also a liar.

The young village boy was not any blood relation of his despite his story, Halt was certain. His tells were minor ones, but they were there. He was merely trying to protect the younger boy from death, though Halt couldn’t piece together a motive as to why—he couldn’t fathom what the boy possibly stood to gain from it.

Every word had been a falsehood. But the greed in Morgarath’s expression showed plainly that he hadn’t caught it. He seemed far more interested in the added leverage of a potential scandal. Halt, for his part, said nothing. It wasn't his responsibility to keep Morgarath from being manipulated by a child. That was something the Warlord should be able to do for himself.

“Take them both,” Morgarath ordered.

Halt shrugged. It didn’t matter much to him either way.

~x~X~x~

“Perhaps you could tell me why it is that your father doesn’t value your life enough to agree to my demands?” Morgarath’s raging carried almost as loudly through the dungeon passages as the anguished sounds of screaming did.

It had been over a month since the capture of the two boys, since the Battle of Hackham Heath where King Duncan had escaped with his a few of his knights and commanders. The King had holed up in a fortress in the far north, with eighteen fiefs still under his command. Morgarath’s ploy to use Sir David’s son, or rather ‘sons’, as leverage had not met with the success he wanted.

Having received a less than favorable response to his ransom and blackmail demands, Morgarath had flown into a rage and decided to vent it on the object of his anger. Halt’s mouth turned down faintly at the uselessness of it all. Like all emotions, rage was ultimately pointless and would fix things as little as torturing a child for the decision of their parents. Which was to say, not at all.

Morgarath would have been better served to lower the conditions he set for the boys’ safe return. Halt had always known that no knight with the barest trace of loyalty or duty to his King would have agreed to such concessions—even if he did profess to love his son. The life of two boys weighed against the safety of what little remained of Duncan’s kingdom was a clear logical choice.

Halt rounded the corner, stepping past the guards there. They did nothing to stop him as he’d become a more than familiar figure.

“Were you just that much of a disappointment to him or does he just not care?” Morgarath demanded of the Battlemaster’s son.

Halt entered the cell silently, watching as Morgarath lunged at the helpless knight’s son, watched as the youngest boy strained against the chains holding him, tears streaming down his face as he screamed desperately, despite his obvious exhaustion, for Morgarath to stop. For his part, the knight’s son was far past the point of words, past even the point of screaming anymore. He did not answer the furious warlord. The lack of response only seemed to infuriate Morgarath more.

“Maybe my demand wasn’t taken seriously enough. Maybe I’ll start chopping off pieces to send to him. Maybe then he will listen! Maybe then he will start to care!”

As he said it, he drew and raised his sword, edge down for a cutting stroke at the boy beneath him. The boy’s eyes, though barely conscious and filled with pain, still glistened defiantly. Brave and defiant, just as the younger one was.

Halt felt something unidentifiable stirring in his chest at about the same time he felt the idea, which had been stirring in the back of his mind ever since he’d predicted the failure of Morgarath’s ransom scheme, solidify into clear purpose.

“Hold a moment, if you would, Lord Morgarath,” Halt said calmly, but loud enough to be heard as he stepped forwards.

“You had better have a good reason for interrupting me,” Morgarath hissed venomously, stopping his blade mid-swing by only the barest frenzied grip of his self-control.

“I do. Before you damage him irreparably," Halt said, gesturing toward the downed boy with an inclination of his head. “I have a proposition. Why don’t you give both boys to me?”

“For what purpose?” Morgarath asked.

The rasp in his voice and the clenching of his fingers told Halt that he was only seconds away from losing his temper entirely. Halt knew he needed to be concise and quick if he wanted to be successful.

“The way I see it, if their father already refused the deal, it's unlikely there is anything you can do that would cause him to suddenly value his children more than his duty or position. But they can still be useful to us. The King still has many Rangers left at his disposal and they even now give him a greater advantage in this war. I figured that you could use a similar advantage. What if I could train for you, your own force of assassins with the skills of the Rangers? We could rival and surpass Duncan in every aspect. These two,” he indicated the boys, “could be the start to it. I see potential in them already.”

“And if you are wrong about them?” Morgarath asked, though Halt could see that he was already growing interested in the idea, the familiar hungry gleam was back in his gaze.

“Then,” Halt shrugged, “you can finish what you started.”

Morgarath seemed to think a moment before sheathing his sword.

“If you want them, take them,” he said dismissively, words languid. “They are no longer of any use to me.”

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absolute-flaming-trash · 2 years

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Things I'm doing rather than my 600 followers event and my school work: This

I'm sorry

Pairing: Mahito x Reader

SFW

Word Count: 2'560

Warnings: Forced Relationship, Implied kidnapping, Escape attempt, Brief gore, Murder (not reader), Blood, Torture (not reader), Knives, Noncon kissing, Mahito is his own warning.

Bonus points if you can see what two scenes I got heavy inspo from

“So let me get this straight.” Your friend had their elbows resting on their knees - hands pressed together in a prayer position with their fingertips against their lips, “You were kidnapped.”

“Yes.”

“Not by a man, but by a monster.”

“Yes.”

“A monster that it seems only you can see, but it can still interact with everyone else despite this.”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure you didn’t hit your head on your way here?”

“Damn it, I’m being serious!” You hissed, looking towards the living room window nervously, “I don’t know how long I have, I need a place to hide.”

They held up their hands in surrender, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. It’s just…” Their expression softened, “you’ve gone for weeks, hun, when others find out about your explanation, they’re going to throw you in the loony bin.”

You laughed dryly, “Yeah, and he would have endless fun with that.”

A beat of silence passed as they looked you up and down, eyeing you with concern.

“You really aren’t making this up…”

There was another stretch of silence as the weight in the room officially set in.

“...How did you get out?”

Flashes of memories far too fresh for your taste sent a chill down your spine, and you shook your head rapidly - drawing your knees up to your chest.

In all reality, it was pure and honest to god luck. You could barely remember half of the events that led to your escape, adrenaline doing its job in being one hell of a drug, but frankly you did not want to remember.

The thought of possibly having to do it again would break you completely.

The cushion beside you dipped with weight, and you felt your friends arms wrap around you - hugging you closely to their chest.

Your flinch was ignored by the both of you.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be asking you things like that.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, “It’s fine.”

“No, it isn’t.” They moved their hand in soothing circles on your back. “Of course you can hide here, although I’m trying to think of the best place to put you while also not triggering the shit out of you.”

That made you laugh a little, dissipating the tension ever so slightly. “Just don’t put me in a basement, and we’ll be fine.”

They chuckled, hugging you closer. “No basement, got it.”

A somewhat comfortable silence fell between the two of you, and for the first time in ages you felt hope that maybe, maybe, you would soon be able to relax.

“I have an idea.” They said, releasing you gently and standing up, “Follow me, I’ll need your help.”

You obeyed, sending a last worried glance towards the window as you followed them out of the living room. Eventually you came to a stop in front of a closet in one of the hallways.

“Where I’m planning on putting you doesn’t have a lot of heat, so you’ll need these.”

They pulled out a pile of blankets - each differing in texture and thickness as he handed them to you. You took them wordlessly, setting your chin on top of the pile to keep it from falling over. They looked towards you and smiled warmly.

“You can never have enough blankets when utility is expensive as shit.”

Your lips twitched upwards as you were directed back the way you came - your friend sporting their own bundle tucked under their arm as they eventually led you out their back door into their yard.

It was a quiet night, and very clear. It had been a while since you had experienced one of them.

“In the absolute worst case scenario, I thought this would be the best place.” They explained, nodding towards a small shed that was in the back left corner of their yard. “I haven’t used it in a while, but I still keep it pretty tidy so you should be somewhat comfortable until you feel enough time has passed to move to a place that’s a little more conspicuous.”

They leaned against the wooden door with their shoulder and it opened with little resistance. Inside, moonlight illuminated the contents, revealing an assortment of all kinds of tools - all of which had a thin layer of rust on them.

“Pretty much anything that’s sharp is either on the upper hooks or in a drawer, so unless you are explicitly trying, you won’t have to get a tetanus shot while you’re here.”

They set the blankets down on one of the steel counters before facing you fully, resting a hand on your shoulder. “But in all seriousness, by having you in here, you are completely out of sight. I’ll bring you food for as long as you want to stay, and you’re absolutely free to leave at any time. However, for the sake of staying as hidden as possible, I’d recommend only coming inside when you need to use the washroom. Is that okay?”

You nodded, tears filling your eyes. “I can’t even begin to think how to thank you.”

They smiled kindly, “You can thank me when this is over.”

With that, they left; leaving the door open behind them as they made their way back into their house.

The breath you hadn’t realized you were holding left you in a long sigh. This was really happening. You were really here.

There was still the gnawing sensation in the back of your mind, screaming at you to go back before Mahito found out you were gone, but it was far too late for that. He would have undoubtedly noticed by now, and you’d be doing your dignity and pride a favor by not crawling back to beg for forgiveness.

You doubted he’d listen to such pleas, anyways.

You set the blankets down in a corner at the back of the shed. It was partially hidden by the counter, leaving a three foot gap for you to curl up and tuck yourself out of sight, in theory anyways.

The blankets your friend had carried were layered on top of the others, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to lay down just yet.

Drawer contents rattled softly as you pulled each of them open, taking some of them completely out of the slot to get a better angle with the moonlight to see what was inside before putting them back. You stopped at the fifth one, reaching in and pulling an old, dusty box cutter and holding it up to the moonlight.

It had definitely seen better days, but the slide wasn’t stuck which was good news. You pressed the blade out, snapping the rusted tip off and placing it towards the back of the counter out of harm's way.

You stood in the doorway for a moment analyzing the knife before slowly closing the door, enveloping you in darkness.

It would have to do.

Curling up in your corner, you buried yourself under several layers of blankets - exacto knife clutched closely to your chest. The exhaustion of it all came to a head, and you let your eyes shut for your first night by yourself in a long time.

You woke to the sound of glass breaking and muffled shouts.

Ice replaced all the blood in your veins and all the air was sucked from your body. You didn’t dare move, not a single inch. A sweat broke out all over your body, your grip around your impromptu weaponing tightening as you put all your effort into keeping your panic as silent as possible under the blankets.

A naive part of you questioned if it could be a robber breaking into one of the neighbouring houses, but that would have been too much of a coincidence.

You knew better.

The noises suddenly came to an abrupt halt, the previous evening silence returning, however its peace was now tainted with fear.

It was the not knowing that killed you inside. The overwhelming urge to leave the shed and enter the house to see what had become of your friend had to be stomped out, and you pressed yourself against the wall as much as you possibly could; hoping that your corner looked like a heap of old blankets rather than anything else.

There was no way to know how much time had passed between the crushing silence and the groan of the shed door on its hinges, but it stood still when you heard the sing-song call of your name.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are~.”

The inside of your mouth filled with blood as you bit down on your cheek to stop your whimpers from escaping, but it was impossible to keep yourself from flinching at a sudden, and incredibly loud *CRASH* sounded out. He must have been pulling things out of the cabinets looking for you.

The second time it happened you were ready, but you still flinched from the impact of several objects falling onto your blankets.

“There you are!”

Dread sank in your stomach and you pressed your lips together to keep your cries in while praying that his declaration was one of assumption of where you were rather than set in fact.

The latter was proven to be the case as the blankets were ripped away from you with ease, the shock from the cold air and exposure to your monster making you gasp.

As soon as he locked eyes with you, Mahito smiled - looming over you with satisfaction.

“Boo.”

You sat up, pushing the blade of the box cutter halfway out and pointing it towards him with as much menace as you could muster. He looked down at your weapon of choice curiously for a moment, then back to you, his smile widening.

“You’re so cute, you know that won’t hurt me.”

“I can fucking try.”

To prove your point you took a swipe at him when he reached out to pull you up. Mahito dodged it effortlessly, his eyes darkening for a moment before disarming you faster than you could blink. The gap between you was closed just as fast, the tip of the blade now inches away from your own face.

You braced yourself, not even daring to breathe as he looked between you and the knife, the tension in the air increasing tenfold when he pressed his thumb against the slide - pushing out the blade as far as it could go.

The cheerful expression he gave you next was like whiplash.

“This won’t do a thing unless I let it, watch!”

To your absolute horror Mahtio opened his mouth and pressed his tongue against the blade, dragging it upwards like licking a lollipop. You couldn’t take your eyes off the grotesque display as you watched his tongue split into two, only minimal amounts of blood dripping down his chin and onto your blankets before the gashes closed on either side once he reached the tip of the blade - creating two separate tongues.

“There you go,” he popped his lips, looking back towards you in glee, “see?”

It was a miracle you weren’t sick right then and there.

He began to say something else, but the words went over your head as you focused all your energy in not throwing up on the spot. After a moment, the sound of your name brought you back to reality temporarily enough to shift your attention to his face, and you let out a gasp of simultaneous disgust and surprise when you felt his lips press against yours.

If it wasn’t a task not to puke before, it certainly was now. You tried your best to keep your lips clamped shut, but the effort was just as futile as your attempt with the box cutter. The sensation of two tongues invading your mouth made you squeal, unable to move while Mahito did as he pleased - moaning into your mouth and making you gag at the vibration. You didn’t dare bite him or push him away.

He broke it off almost as suddenly as he initiated it, a thin string of saliva connecting your lips for a moment before it snapped.

His eyes were half lidded when he spoke, “Now that I have your attention, we really do need to talk.”

You were yanked up harshly by your wrist, the skin burning underneath his grip as he hauled you out of the shed back towards the house.

“Now, we’ve been together long enough to know each other pretty well, don’tcha think?”

You yelped when your shoulder clipped the back door frame. He hummed contently in response as he weaved his way through the rooms.

“I think so too, so you know that whenever I make promises, I’m going to follow through with them, right?”

He came to an abrupt stop, holding you so your faces were mere inches apart and searching your face as you nodded - giving you yet another smile when you let out a meek “Yes”.

“Good! So this shouldn’t be a surprise.”

He pushed on your shoulder, turning you away from him as he spoke and you came,face to face with the grotesque remains of your friend.

Disfigured didn’t even begin to describe the state they were in, they were massacred.

It was obvious he didn’t just transfigure them, the blood that streaked across the walls and ceiling like a horrific Jackson Pollock painting was more than enough evidence that he took joy in beating them within an inch of their life.

The fact Mahito had kept them alive was another torture inofitself.

The only indicator they were still with you was a sickening gurgle as they attempted to say your name as you made eye contact, and your stomach twisted into knots.

They only managed to get half of it out as a tear fell down your face, and bile rose in your throat.

The look you sent him was withering, “You’re a fucking monster.”

Mahito waved his hand dismissively, “Semantics, I told you what would happen and you didn’t listen.” He walked over to the remnants of your friend, propping his foot up like he was fucking Captain Morgan, “I made it very clear when we first got together, ‘leave me, and it won’t be just you who suffers the consequences.’,” he gestured to the lump beneath him, “so this is just as much your fault as it is mine.”

The sorrow in your heart quickly shifted to anger, “I didn’t make you do this!”

“Oh but you did!” The look on Mahito’s face was haunting as he reached into his pocket, pulling out the same box cutter from the shed, “and to make you fully understand that, you’re going to finish what you had me start.”

Confusion set in first before the gut sinking horror, and you shook your head frantically - too appalled to even say anything. You knew it was dangerous to refuse him - especially at this point - but you didn’t care. There was a very clear line in the sand that you absolutely refused to cross.

But it was clear that meant nothing to him.

He clicked his tongue, staring at you for what felt like ages before he gave you the most sinister grin you had ever seen.

“Tell you what,” he placed his palm on their skin. Your eyes widened in terror.

“Instead you get to choose how they go.”

Taglist: @prettycutebunny, @sai-my-beloved, @we-are-so-close, @shorkbrian, @biby-24k, @forcefulkitten, @siphite

#riri writes #Mahito #Mahito x Reader #JJK #Jujutsu Kaisen #tw yandere #tw forced relationship #tw implied kidnapping #tw torture #tw murder #tw blood #tw noncon kissing #tw escape attempt #tw knives #tw mahito #I wrote this in like 2 days please have mercy on me #also 600 follower friends I am also very sorry the inspo for this just hit very hard #tw gore

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ring-of-galactic · 29 days

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Listen here.

Yeah, you're a piece of shit. You've treated everyone around you like shit, including them, and you deserve to be in Archer's place right now.

But guess what. Archer wouldn't want you to die. Because ce's a fucking idiot, sure, but it's true. So you deserve to die, but don't. Or I think the bitch will haunt us.

Proton (from A's universe)

ok. im sorry. i wont do it again. im sorry. imsorry imsorry...

#saturn posts #rotomblr #asks #tw repetition #tw implied attempted murder #//for the tags #//this was originally sent as the murder attempt was happening #//so. now that he can see it. imagine how hes feeling #//right after. all that.#//i couldnt resist the urge to hurt saturn just a little more hehe

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ninjastormhawkkat · 10 months

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sooo digging around through files and found this wip

@dualnaturedscientist @liloskull343 @blueweirdness @lartmacabre

"What do you guys think you're doing?!"

Carrie demanded. She began trying to wrestle the intruders to reach her baby.

She had put Blu down in the nursery for a nap. She had taken maternity leave for her job at the vet center. Currently her husband was at work and her other two kids were in school. She was sipping on some hot cocoa she had stashed away. Knowing if Steven found it he would get rid of it. She was addicted to chocolate despite knowing it wasn't good for her body.

"Steven will just have to scold me later!" The ginger decided. She purred contentedly with the sugary and chocolatey beverage.

It was peaceful and quiet…

Until it wasn't.

The sound of Blu's cries ranged through the air. Carrie practically threw the glass mug down. It shattered from how hard she had yeeted it. The cocoa spilled out and onto the floor. She didn't care about the mess she had caused, only that her one year old needed her. She pushed the door open, realizing she had left it open when she left. Her eyes then landed on the strangers who stood in her house.

Her eyes widened, reading the symbols on their clothing.

B.E.A.W. labs.

Those sneaky little-

They waited until Steven and the kids were gone. Waited until everything seemed okay and fine. Waited until everyone's guard was down.

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" She shouted, snapping when they tried to reach for her again.

"Ma'am we were given instructions to retrieve you and your child."

"You're not taking us anywhere!" She hissed. She held Blu protectively. She scratched one of the intruders in the face before running. Apparently they had expected her to run, before she knew it she was surrounded.

"Now you either cooperate or we'll have to sedate you." The masked man continues. "Either way, you're coming with us."

She doesn't want to go with them, but she is also worried about Blu getting hurt.

"No she won't!"

A relieved look on her face as she stared at Steven who now stood in the doorway.

Sometime later Becky: Dad why do Chase, Blu, and I have to stay with Uncle Victor for a while? Steven: It's because the bleach that's been used to clean is going to stink and burn you senses for a while. It's best to stay out of the house until the scent dies down.

#wordgirl #wordgirl au #tw: attempted kidnapping #becky boxleitner au #steven boxleitner #carrie #blu boxleitner #wordgirl next gen #tw: implied murder #don't mess with Steven #melodythebunny #answered ask #wip #the facility #B.E.A.W labs

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harleyification · 6 months

Text

Hey look, I finally got to write some Moon Son!!! I’ve been heavily inspired by Lollipencil to start seriously writing for this AU, and so I decided to start at the beginning…how I think it all began. However, heed the tags, because this starts really dark. This idea has been traveling around in my brain for several months now, a culmination of A. Letting Marc and the others become a fist of Khonshu early, B. Their mother being shitty and abusive like in the show, and C. The comics interpretation of Marc possibly getting DID due to almost getting killed multiple times in his life.

WARNINGS: Graphic Depictions of Violence (nothing too graphic but there is a lot of blood), attempted murder, attempted maternal filicide, hints of physical and mental abuse. Please be careful reading this, and enjoy.

It’s hard to breathe. His chest hurts, with every staggering breath making his collapsing lungs ache, each one sounding like a death rattle.

Because that’s exactly what it is – a death rattle.

Marc can’t remember how he got here tonight. The memories were blurry amongst the last few minutes, quickly fading away as blood loss settled in. Red pools dragged behind him in a trail as the teen desperately tried to crawl away from the monster behind him, trying to find help. But no one is around, it’s just the two of them, and she’s still looming over him like a predator that has caught their prey. Marc can see her shadow and the knife that she clutches in her hand.

Marc doesn’t look back around. The room is getting dizzy.. He needs to hurry, he– he doesn’t want to die, please– he’s only fifteen, and his life was shitty, and he hates his abusive mom and his neglectful dad who let it continue, but he never thought that she would ever go this far. He never fucking thought that she would ever take it this fucking far.

She’s saying something behind him, but the words hardly register. They sound shocked. There were repetitions of “...my god, my good lord, what have I done…”, but Marc doesn’t turn back around. He doesn’t care anymore. He’s so fucking scared, one hand clutching onto his wounds and the other grasping the wooden floor to slide himself away.

All of a sudden, the chattering from the monster came to an end. There was resolute silence for a mere second, the only sound being Marc’s labored and pained grunts. Then, the sound of shoes walking away, leaving him to die slowly and... alone.

But he doesn’t look back. He fucking can’t.

Not when the doors and the phone and help was so, so far away, and he’s losing himself rapidly.

“Help…” he calls out, but it sounds far away to him. One hand forward, pull his body with it. One hand forward…and pull…reach forward… and…

He’s slipping. He can feel it. It should be scary, but more than anything he is exhausted.

He comes to a rest at the foot of something hard. Gazing up tiredly, his blurry vision makes out the stone mask of some kind of bird-faced humanoid. It was small, miniature, meant to be a decoration for wherever they were. Funny enough, despite its uncanniness, Marc can’t look away. It was better to look at it than at his lonely surroundings, he kind of thinks…

He will close his eyes for a minute. Just for a minute…then he’ll…ask for help…

—

"Hmm… a little young to be a fist. A bit too young, maybe. But it has been centuries, and I require someone, anyone, to take up the role at last. What do you say, child? Would you like to live and get away from the ones who have hurt you most?

….

All I ask in return is that you shall fight in my name and do the bidding of the night. Protect travelers who walk underneath the stars, in every way that you must, no matter the deed. Whenever the shadows demand it, you must heed their calls. Protect the lost ones, as you were once before.

…

Good. Very well. This will be very interesting indeed. Now, sleep child. Your body must heal. I shall guide you to safety."

—

Wary eyes blink open to minimal light in a sea of darkness. He was dizzy, his eyes swimming momentarily as his hand reached up to rub his temples. The teen looks around, eyeing his surroundings with open confusion as everything registers around him.

He was in an alley. A dingy, fucked up one too, as it had trash everywhere and there were mysterious stains on the concrete not too far beside him. The sources of light were coming from street lamps that lit up the asphalt streets and illuminated the boy’s uncomfortable hidey-hole.

He gets up, grunting as his aching limbs protest. “What in the bloody hell…?” he mutters to himself as he cautiously steps out into the open, seeing no one in sight. The streets were empty, the city was silent, and there was no moon or stars to be seen in the smoggy sky.

And just as suddenly, the quiet was destroyed by the sound of distant gunshots. The teen looks towards their direction and makes a mental note to not fucking go anywhere near there anytime soon.

The boy steps further out into the light, and almost screams when he sees the sight of his own bloody hands and clothes. They were fucking caked in red, making the teen look down the front of his shirt to see where it was he was hurt.

But…there was nothing. He pulls up his sleeves, and his skin was still unharmed.

That just makes it worse though. He gulps, shoving his hands into his pockets as if it would hide the crime scene that he practically emits. If the blood isn’t his, and if he can’t remember where it came from…then that just makes things a hell of a lot harder to figure out.

Steven has woken up many times before in weird settings and situations, but waking up has never been like this before.

There was the sound of sirens now, police and ambulance alike. There was the gleam of a needle on the building’s corner that glowed in the streetlight, prompting Steven to walk even faster. There was even the distant resonant sound of hair-raising cackling, as if through a speaker.

“Sheesh. With this commotion, you’d think I’d somehow wound up in Gotham…” Steven grumbles as he hunches himself down lower, trying to be inconspicuous.

He doesn’t know where he’s going, or what’s going on, or what his plan is exactly, but…but there is always one thing Steve knows that he is good at and can rely on.

He can figure things out. He’ll be able to get through this and make his way back home, surviving on the streets if he has to. He’s sure of it.

#TW blood #TW attempted murder #TW implied abuse #If you don't like this for Moon Son canon u dont have to. Literally do whatever u want with Moon Son it is free real estate!!#Some Context: Marc already has DID but in this AU Khonshu's spirit and the Gift of Chorus make it to where Steve and Jake have their own #suits and souls!#Woah hey that's a good title for this AU. Suits and Souls....#But anyways if you want the TLDR for this: Marc's mom reaches her edge and takes her anger out on Marc in a deadly way. Realizing what she #has done she leaves Marc to die. OR alternatively she kills herself in order to not face repercussions. Whichever you think works best #Steven finds himself with no memories out in the middle of some random city which he will find out eventually is Gotham.#Also this takes place either in the home or in a museum. I couldnt decide so I made it ambiguous JSADJASIODA #It's short too cause I really dont feel like writing 10k tonight sajdkljasdia #BUT HEY I FINALLY WROTE SOME MOON SON!! YEAAH #Moon Knight #Moon Son Propaganda #Batman #Batfamily

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agena87 · 7 months

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50 questions: Alfie's Edition

(Those answers are meant to apply to post-Kiyoshi!Al, before he gets together with Wolfie & Mal)

1. What would completely break your oc? He is pretty broken already, but finding himself face to face with Kiyoshi, or even hearing his voice on the phone would finish him off, so to speak. The mere thought of him gets Al in a state of pure terror, so finding himself in contact, even indirectly, with him? It would be devastating and probably would send him right to the bottom of a few bottles.

2. What is the best thing in your oc’s life? At the moment, there aren't a lot of good things in Al's life. So, probably his family or his farm. His family, especially his mom, supports him and is always here when he hits rock bottom, though he feels like they are a bit overwhelming, and shouldn't worry about him, since he thinks he doesn't deserve it (rather, he thinks he deserves to be miserable). As for his farm, working there helps him clear his head a bit, though not enough to not turn to meds, alcohol, or a razor blade (or occasionally sex) to try to drown all the dark thoughts that plague him 24/7.

3. What is the worst thing in your oc’s life? Currently, the alcoholism, meds abuse, and self-harm. And of course, the trauma that is the cause of those self-destructive tendencies. Kiyoshi's face behind his eyelids each time he closes his eyes. The nightmares that awake him nearly every night, the physical pain from the event that caused his trauma, the event being Kiyoshi trying to kill him on their wedding day. Storytime! A few months after Wolfie left for Windenburg and met Jeb, and just a few days after Mal announced that he was going to be a father, Kiyoshi felt giddy that his “rivals” were not a threat anymore (I don’t know why Mal’s being a father meant that he would not love Al anymore, but Kiyoshi saw it that way since he was starting to become delusional at the time), and thought that it was a sign that he and Al were meant to be together forever. So, during a dinner with Al’s family, he proposed, which Al, being in denial of the situation he was in, accepted readily, to the chagrin of Agena – Al’s mother – who, while not knowing the extent of the abuse his son was enduring, knew that Kiyoshi was not the man Al should promise himself to. During the time between the engagement and the wedding, Al and Wolfie started talking again on the phone, and Al ended up inviting his best friend to the ceremony. Come the day of the wedding, Kiyoshi saw Wolfie and lost it. Enraged, he stormed the room where Al was getting dressed with the help of his aunts, Tabitha and Marie (note: he had decided to wear the dress his mother wore for her wedding with his father, Cédric – the dress she was still wearing when Cédric died from a heart attack in front of her). Kiyoshi threatened the two women, his crush on Tabitha long forgotten, to leave the room, and the moment they left and the door was locked, he started to shout at his fiancé, accusing him of cheating on him with Wolfie, and insulting him. Despite Al’s defense, Kyoshi didn’t listen and started to strangle him and shake him. After a few long minutes of this treatment, Kiyoshi wanted Al’s to stop talking (though he could barely utter a few words) and violently bashed his head against a wall twice. When people - namely Agena's cousin/parent, Seamus, and their husband, Karl, arrived at the scene, alerted by Tabi and Marie that something was off, Al was unconscious and barely breathing, while Kiyoshi was prostrated on the floor, crying and repeatedly asking for forgiveness. Despite Tabitha's best efforts to prevent her sister from seeing it - while trying to calm her girlfriend down (as the scene reminded her too much of her own brother dying on his wedding day), Agena stormed the room and, seeing her first son, lifeless, wearing the dress she wore when his father, the love of her life, died in front of her, she lost it. Usually a poor magic user, she destroyed the room in a fit of rage and would have killed Kiyoshi if Seamus hadn't managed to let her go of her magic. Al woke up, about ten days later, in the hospital.

4. Does your oc work so that they can support their hobbies or use their hobbies as a way of filling up the time they aren’t working? Actually, his work is also his main hobby. Since he was little, he always loved gardening and taking care of plants, thanks to his mom who transmitted him her love of botany. And taking care of his many animals (he has goats, chickens, a couple cows, ducks, a pig, a few rabbits, and a horse) doesn't feel like work to him either. He doesn’t really have any other hobby nowadays. Before everything that went wrong in his life, he loved reading or exercising, but now, he can’t concentrate enough to read more than a few pages at a time, and his physical health is shite and his work is all the exercise that he can bear (when he is even able to work – luckily, he has a farm hand to help – Agena, and his younger brother Paul-Louis, also lend him a hand sometimes).

5. What is your oc reluctant to tell people? So many things. He really doesn't tell anyone anything these days. But what he would never, under any circumstances, tell to anyone, is what was really happening with Kiyoshi behind closed doors; though they can easily imagine it (though they could never imagine enough).

6. How does your oc feel about sex? Before, Al thought of sex as something beautiful, something that made you and your significant other closer, a way to show your love. Now? Now he thinks of it as a way to pass the time or forget. Maybe a bargaining chip, if needed. Something dirty, yet necessary. Or when Kiyoshi's memories come to him, something to fear, a punishment. Yet, when he feels particularly bad or down, he will take some man to bed and use them to forget. Some day he'll come to think of it as something good again, but it will take time.

7. What would your oc make a scene in public about? I don't think Al would ever make a scene in public, or even in private. Once upon a time, maybe, but now he is way too scared of the consequences of merely raising his voice. Even with his family - even his younger siblings - he stays calm, worryingly so, even when he would be justified to get a bit angry.

8. What would your oc give their life for? At this point, his life is the last of his worries, so he would give it for the most mundane thing. He really doesn't think he deserves to live. He would not actively attempt to his life, but he would use any reason to put himself in danger, save for getting in a situation where someone would hurt him voluntarily (like beat him or, God forbids!, strangle him). But anything else is fair game: jumping in front of a lorry to save a hedgehog, abusing medicines, driving while drunk, "forgetting" to eat for weeks, ...

9. What are your oc’s major flaws? His main major flaw is his self-destructiveness. Not only does it impact his health (both physical and mental), but also his relationship with his family and friends. If his family managed to keep some modicum of contact with him despite his attempts to cut himself totally from them, his friends were more or less left behind after the wedding (they still visit him regularly, but he acts as if they weren't even here most of the time).

10. What is your oc afraid of? Al is terrified of being loved in a romantic way. Familial love or friendship poses no problem, but the moment someone (read: Wolfie or Mal) suggests that they are in love with him, he freezes. For him, being loved this way is synonymous with being in danger. Kiyoshi used to tell him how much he loved him, how he was the love of his life, all the time, even when he was hurting him, or just after he hurt him. Regarding his two best friends, he knows that they would rather die than even think of raising their hand against him, but still, there’s this little voice that whispers (quite loudly) that they would hurt him, that their words are just a way to lure him in a sense of security before they destroy him. He knows it’s the trauma speaking, but still, he refuses Wolfie & Mal’s love because of the one in a gazillion chance that the voice is right.

11. Is your oc a daredevil, or more of a scaredy-cat? What is the most daring thing they’ve done in their life? Alfie never was a daredevil, but he wasn’t a scaredy-cat either. Nowadays, after what happened with Kiyoshi, he is in a perpetual state of anxiety and fear. As for the most daring thing he ever did… Probably some dangerous acrobatics when he was on the cheer team, in high school.

12. How much thought does your oc put into what they wear/look like? Any reason why? Al always liked to wear pretty clothes so he could feel pretty in turn. Not really a fashionista, but he’s still very into fashion. He has a very defined style and palette, very feminine and full of pink plus a little purple, though he will wear more practical/less flashy clothes around the farm. But since the wedding, he hasn’t been able to wear any long dresses, even if he used to be very fond of them. He's also an avid user of make-up, and just like clothes, he uses it to feel pretty, which, these days, he doesn’t think he is.

13. How easily does your oc trust others? Any particular reason why? How trustworthy are they themselves? Trust has become an issue since Kiyoshi. As I already said, he’s afraid of people claiming to love him romantically, and he doesn’t trust that they’re telling the truth when they do. He doesn’t even trust his own family when they say they love him or that they are worried for him, because he doesn’t believe he deserves any affection. As for new people, he distrusts them all so much that he won’t let them get too close to him, the only exceptions – if you can call it that, since he will play a role, project the image of someone in control, someone confident – are the few men he takes to bed the nights he feels the most down, the most noticeable one being his farm hand, Shawn. He, himself, became, if not completely untrustworthy, rather unreliable, and maybe a bit duplicitous.

14. What is your oc’s confidence like? Are they self-confident to the point of being arrogant? Are they terribly self-deprecating? Abysmal. He’s one of the most self-hating people you could meet. Which explains the self-destructive tendencies. Of course, he wasn’t always this self-deprecating, once again, it’s all Kiyoshi’s fault who kept – during his raging bouts – belittling him. But before, he was rather arrogant when it came to his intelligence – he is a genius, after all – or his athletics; even his looks were a source of pride at the time.

15. Is your oc expressive, or would they rather conceal their emotions? What are their typical expressions like? He’d like to be able to hide his emotions, but his face keeps betraying him and showing the torment raging inside him. His face is always sporting a sad, even desperate expression, with empty, nearly dead, eyes often lined by unshed tears, and a downturned mouth.

16. Is your oc a romantic, or are they grossed out by the simple mention of anything romantic? Though he’s scared of being romantically loved, he’s still a romantic (though he thinks he’s not). Sometimes, before the dread takes over, he longs for someone who would love him and cherish him, just like he dreamt of before. Before their relationship soured, he and Kiyoshi often went on romantic dates, or wrote each other sweet little notes that they would leave in the other’s pocket/schoolbag, or Kiyoshi would buy him flowers and he would gifts sweets to his boyfriend anytime he felt like it (which was often), and loved all of that.

17. How does your oc sleep? Do they move around a lot? What position does your oc normally sleep in? What are their typical bedding arrangements like? Despite the nightmares that plague him several times a week, he sleeps rather well, though it’s probably due to the amount of sleeping pills and other anxiolytics he takes (mixed with alcohol). He rarely sleeps less than ten hours, except when a rather gruesome nightmare wakes him up and he can’t fall back asleep (which is quite rare; most of the time, he falls back asleep, after a few minutes). He sleeps in a fetal position, usually on his left side, his knees almost to his chin as if trying to take the less room possible. His bed only has one pillow, and he burrows himself under his old, but still plump, duvet, only leaving to top of his head somewhat visible.

18. What five objects or things could be expected to be found on your oc’s person at any time? Why? His phone, some meds, a flask of vodka, a picture of his parents, and his engagement ring. The ring is the cause of many disputes with Agena and the twins (especially Cas) who don’t understand why he keeps wearing it after what happened; especially since he is so terrified of anything wedding-related. And, yes, he knows it does more hurt than anything, but he keeps it and wears it, so he remembers to never fall again for pretty promises. The meds and the vodka would also cause Agena to be concerned for her son, if she knew he had it on him (she’s not clueless enough to not know he abuses both, and she tries to help him stop, but to no avail).

19. Does your oc have any distinguishing markings? Scars, tattoos, birthmarks, freckles, etc? You know what? Let me put his diffuse map here, because he has so many scars that I couldn’t count them, also, it’s simpler to just show you.

20. What is your oc’s fight or flight response like? What sorts of things provoke it the most? Al neither flees nor fights, but he freezes when he finds himself in a scary or dangerous situation. Before, he was way more animated, and – depending on the situation – would either try to intervene and defuse the situation with words, or if he was in real danger, try to flee. He did try more than once at the start of the decline of his relationship with Kiyoshi: he would talk back, or simply leave the flat (the most notorious time being when he went to the club with Wolfie and ended up having sex with him). But after he and Kiyoshi got back together, his boyfriend would literally keep him locked up in a room so he wouldn’t leave and would slap him if he retorted. After a few months of this treatment, it was second nature to just let Kiyoshi do or say whatever he wanted and wait for him to calm down.

21. What was the worst injury your oc ever suffered? Has it had any long lasting impact on them? Al suffered so many injuries that it’s difficult to really say which is the worst, but bar from the massive concussion and crushed trachea he received at the wedding, it’s probably another that didn’t leave any visible scar. It happened during a particularly vicious fight – one during which Al, actually tried to defend himself, which he hadn’t done for about a year – one fight during which Kiyoshi, fuelled by his now ever-present jealousy, accused Al of cheating on him with Mal (which he never did; Kiyoshi, on the other hand was openly having an adulterous relationship with Hugo Villareal – who was completely oblivious of the fact that Kiyoshi already had a boyfriend). Kiyoshi, enraged by his jealousy and the fact that Al dared to raise his voice against him, threw him down the stairs. Al badly broke his pelvis, right leg, and left arm (coincidently, Agena is semi-paralyzed in the same leg, and Cédric – Al’s father – had lost the use of his left arm after an accident). Of course, as most of his injuries at the time, they were explained as accidents. His convalescence was long, and he never recuperated the complete use of his leg, two of his fingers were basically rendered useless due to nerve damage, and he suffers from chronic pain in his back (it's when he started to take pain medication – opioids – and discovered the numbing effect they had on his mind).

22. How violent is your oc? Or are they more of a pacifist? To what lengths will they go to start/avoid a conflict? It’s not that Al’s a pacifist, more than he is deadly scared of conflict since, for him, it means violence, either verbal or physical. So, as said earlier, he would never raise his voice against anyone, and he’ll let people say or do whatever pleases them to be sure not to cause conflict. If he’s a spectator to conflict between other people, he will stay just that: a spectator (still scared out of his mind that somehow, he would end up involved, or – if it is people he's close with – that someone he loves will end up hurt), incapable to do anything.

23. If your oc were to be arrested, what would it most likely be for? Is it justified? Have they actually been arrested before? Probably for being drunk in public (maybe even for driving under the influence) or for possession of drugs (though, he rarely uses “illegal” drugs, so the risk is limited here, contrary to his drinking habits). And yes, it would be justified because he’s drunk 24/7 these days. And no, he's never been arrested, which is quite a miracle knowing the number of times he drove while being totally pissed (not having any accident is another miracle), but at the same time he lives in a small town, and there aren’t a lot of cops around (which is a blessing with him being black and all; he has already enough problem without adding police violence to it).

24. How would your oc act when drunk? What about when really, really tired? As I just said in the previous question, Al is always drunk, so, he acts normally. Well, normally for him, at least. He’s a very quiet drunk, rather pessimistic (but even sober he is the very definition of the word “pessimism” so no changes here), maybe a bit more promiscuous than usual if he’s drunk on whisky instead of vodka (his go-to alcohol). Exhausted!Al is… he’s a mess. He tends to hallucinate when he’s sleep-deprived, and he's not seeing pink elephants, but Kiyoshi (what a surprise!), or even a doppelgänger of himself, husting him and/or his family and friends.

25. What would history remember your oc for? How would they become famous? Or are they the sort that would really only be appreciated long after their death? Of the four boys, Al is the less susceptible to becoming famous, or remembered by History. Or if he is, it’s only in connection with Mal or Wolfie (or more loosely Jeb), but even then, it’s only a line or two, and back to his boyfriends.

26. What are they like in the bedroom — well-rounded lover or wooden plank? Depends who he’s with, to be honest. At the start of his relationship with Kiyoshi (after the fumbling of the few first times), he was quite animated and active; he verged on being a power bottom on a lot of occasions, though he liked to be told what to do by his boyfriend. Once the relationship deteriorated, he became a wooden plank, waiting for it to be over (often mentally escaping), as he didn’t always consent (but didn’t openly refuse either – which is NOT CONSENT -, for if he tried to, Kiyoshi assumed it was because he was cheating on him). With other partners (read: one-night stands), he just takes what he needs at the moment to feel better: sometimes, he’ll need to be in total control, and sometimes he’ll need to be used. With Shawn, though he refuses to admit it, it’s also different. He’s more involved, and he takes better care of his farm hand’s needs; contrary to his one-night stands, he’ll exchange some kisses, and maybe use some generic terms of endearment.

27. Have they committed a crime before? Which one(s)? As said previously, he sometimes uses recreational drugs, and often drives while intoxicated, so yes. He also might have shoplifted some vodka bottles here and there.

28. Do they have any phobias? Marriage/weddings. Not only is he deadly afraid of getting married (he never will), but he’s also terrified of his friends or family getting married themselves.

29. What’s their favourite thing about their significant other, if they have one? At the moment he doesn’t have any (though Shawn would like to be it for him), but we know he’ll be with both Wolfie and Mal sooner or later, so… Mal: his (apparent) self-confidence, his protectiveness, his devotion to both him and Wolfie, his arms. Wolfie: the way he takes care of his loved ones, his creativity, his (rare) smile, his eyes.

30. Do/did they want children? He does want children. More precisely, he did want children, and he will want children. At the moment, he doesn’t feel like he would be a good parent (he’s right, he would be awful at it), with him being an alcoholic/addict. Later on, he would come to care for Joy, Mal’s daughter, like his own, but it’ll take time before he trusts himself with her (or for Mal to trust him with his daughter).

31. What’s their body count, if they have one? Assuming it’s not a murder-y one but a sexual one, I’d say about 20? 30? I don’t think he even knows the answer himself. After all, most men were in his life for only a few hours, and he wasn't always conscious enough to remember them.

32. How do they feel about drugs? Recreational: not really something he uses that often because they tend to make him more aware, or happy (which he doesn’t think he deserves to be/to feel), and what he wants is oblivion, numbness. Medicinal: he uses and abuses them. He likes the way they make him empty, numb, oblivious. 33. How difficult is it for your oc to get to sleep? Do they fall asleep the moment they hit the pillow, or do they have insomnia? Any reason why? Since he takes a massive amount of sleep pills, anxiolytics, and alcohol, before going to bed, he falls quickly asleep, but it’s an artificial sleep, nothing relaxing or rejuvenating.

34. Does your oc have siblings or family members in their age group? Are they close? Yes, his aunts, Marie (his father’s sister) and Tabitha (his mother’s half-sister). Marie is two years older than him, and Tabi is a few months younger. He’s close with both of them, but Tabi’s always been his best friend since they were very little.

35. Is your OC called any pet names? If not, if they *did* have one, what would it be? Do they have any pet names for someone else? Yes. Agena calls him “Baby”, and his paternal grandmother, Hortense, “Petal”. Mal’s the one who will give him the most pet names though, for he'll call him (among others, but those are the most frequent) “Sweetheart”, “Sweetie”, and “Honey Bee”.

36. Does your oc have dreams or nightmares? What are they like? Is there a recurring one? He has nightmares at least three times a week. Most of the time, they are memories of Kiyoshi and the abuse. Sometimes, it’s not him Kiyoshi hurts in them, but his family and friends. Rarely (but those are the worst, the ones which prevent him from falling back asleep), Al is the one abusing his loved ones.

37. How is your oc about medical care? Do they avoid any form of healthcare that they can, do they seek it out over every little scrape? Do they treat their injuries/illness all by themselves? Depends. Al sees a psychiatrist every week for his trauma and related mental conditions. It’s a (very) slow process, and to be honest, he doesn’t really try to get better, he just goes so he can continue to have pills (though he gets those by other – illegal – means too, because his monthly prescription would not last a week with the way he abuses his drugs). He also lies a lot to his therapist, especially about how much alcohol he actually drinks or the fact that he sometimes uses non-medicinal drugs. As for his physical health, he refuses to see anyone, mainly because he hates being touched (his family and friends learned to ask him before touching him in any way), but also because of his self-harm. He doesn’t want any medical professional seeing those; he’s scared that if they do, he’ll be locked in a psychiatric hospital against his will. If he needs painkillers (which he often does), he’ll buy over-the-counter ones, or get some from his dealer if he wants opioids. As for illnesses like cold or flu, he also deals with it himself, mainly by staying in bed with a vodka bottle or two on the night table.

38. Your oc has to make something for an art exhibition. What would they make? How terrible is it? Would they enjoy making it? Al is not the most artistic person ever, but he’s not that bad either, so it wouldn’t be terrible, but it would not revolutionize the art community either. As for what he would make, it would probably be some abstract painting representing the torment he feels inside, but people wouldn’t understand the real meaning of his piece, because he would use lots of bright colours/pastels. And he might find it somehow therapeutic, in a numbing way, so I guess he would enjoy doing it.

39. How would you describe your oc’s voice? Do they have an accent? Al never had a booming voice, but nowadays, his voice is barely louder than a whisper. Though he never knew his father and was raised by his English-speaking mother, he speaks with a faint French accent (his paternal family is originally from the French-speaking region of Windenburg).

40. What smells bring back specific memories to your oc? What are those memories like? Flowers remind him of the time he spent with his mother in their garden when he was a child, where Agena would teach him about nature, especially botany. But if flowers as a whole bring back good memories, the smell of roses put him in a state of terror, as the room he was in when Kiyoshi tried to kill him, the day of their wedding, was full of roses bouquets, and smelt like them.

41. Has your oc lost anyone close to them? How did/would they respond if so? His father, but since he wasn’t even born yet, I don’t think it counts. At this point in life, I think that if he lost his mom or one of his siblings, it would be the end of him, and he would take his own life.

42. Have they ever been abused? Do I really need to answer this?

43. When and who was your oc’s first kiss? Cassandra, during a game of “Spin the Bottle”, when they were fourteen, but he doesn’t count it. To him, his “real” first kiss, was with Kiyoshi, at age sixteen.

44. Would they ever purposefully hurt someone? Would they ever kill anybody? I mentioned more than once that Al is not violent in the least, and that he would do anything to avoid conflict/be in trouble. But there is one situation where he would actually hurt someone, or even kill them if it came to that: if someone was abusing one of his loved ones. I don’t think it would be purposeful, though. I believe the trauma would take over and he would completely disassociate and act without really meaning it; he’d watch himself going feral without being able to stop.

45. How does jealousy manifest itself in them (they become possessive, they become aloof, etc)? He doesn’t get jealous. He never really was, but the small amount of jealousy he had was annihilated by Kiyoshi. From a few weeks after they got back together after the Wolfie incident, and up to their engagement, Kiyoshi was openly cheating on Al with Hugo. He would have Hugo come to their flat even if Al was present. The first time Al saw them together, he actually threw a fit (he caught them in flagrante on the sofa when he came back from class), but Kiyoshi told him he didn’t have any right to be jealous since he was the first to cheat (Hugo was later told that Al was just a jealous flatmate who had a thing for Kiyoshi and who he used to sleep with; don’t hate Hugo, he was a victim of Kiyoshi’s manipulations too). So, Al forced himself to bury any trace of jealousy he felt.

46. What are their thoughts on marriage? As said earlier, he is now terrified of anything marriage-related, but once upon a time (well, before Kiyoshi tried to kill him), he dreamt of getting married. Since he was small, he always wanted a big wedding, and to wear a pretty dress. Nowadays, he’s convinced that any wedding he is involved in one way or another is bound to end in tragedy, based on the fact that he nearly died at his, and that his father actually died during the reception following his wedding to Agena (while she was pregnant with Alfie – but didn’t know it yet); which, obviously, is bullshit, but it’s what he believes, anyway (Agena, thinks it’s her dress that is cursed, which… who knows?).

47. Are they happy with their body? He really doesn’t have any opinion on the subject. For him, his body is just a vessel. Once upon a time, he took great care of it, but now it’s just here. He still wants it to be pretty (he doesn’t think it is), but as for many things, he’s just numb to it.

48. Who loves them with all their heart and soul? How does their love make them feel? His family, and Mal & Wolfie. For his family, even if he doesn’t feel like he deserves it, he’s quite grateful for the way they take care of him, and how they sometimes shield him from the world or defend him. As for Mal and Wolfie… as previously mentioned, he’s terrified of romantic love, so it scares the hell out of him. But later on, once he gets a bit better, and accepts to be in a relationship with them, being loved by them is the best thing in the world, though overwhelming (and yes, still terrifying sometimes).

49. Who is their most important person? His mom. Al’s always been a mama’s boy (though, he’s not really a “boy”), and thinking of not having her anymore is the worst feeling in the world.

50. Who is the person they hate the most? Why? I’d like to say that it’s Kiyoshi, which would be self-explanatory, but it’s actually himself, for way too many reasons, the main one being his supposed weakness that “allowed” Kiyoshi to abuse him for years (he’s not, anyone could fall victim to an abuser, there is nothing to do with weakness).

---

Wow, that was a lot. Now, I "only" need to finish Jeb's, Mal's, and Wolfie's... (please kill me).

#ts4 #the sims 4 #ts4 render #render #oc: alfie dubois #extra: all that we are and will never be #tw: self harm #tw: domestic violence #tw: abuse #tw: meds abuse #tw: violence #tw: alcoholism #tw: attempted murder #tw: implied mention of rape #imu if any triggering stuff is not tagged and i'll add it

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demonicchicken1121 · 5 months

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Just posted my first short story for Road to Hell. It's been a while since ive written fanfic, and this is the first one ive posted, so im a little rusty at writing. I know i need to make a cover, but im still learning to draw these characters lol

There is a serious authors note above the story, but im also going to put it here as a precaution:

Authors note: this story contains some very heavy subject matter (mental illness, suicidal ideation, suicide attempt, emotional abuse, implied child murder). It is also written from Henry's point of view, and he is in a very bad mental place. His thoughts and actions reflect his own self loathing, and are entirely irrational. His feeling of worthlessness and being a burden are loosely based on my own experience, so might hit close to home for some readers. William is also acting irrationally, and his treatment of Henry is entirely unacceptable. If you are experiencing suicidal ideation, please call 911, 988, or your areas emergency/suicide prevention number. You are loved, you are not a burden, and you matter <3

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #henry emily #william afton #fnaf au #fnaf road to hell #road to hell au #tw suicidal ideation #tw suicide attempt #mental illness #implied gore #implied murder #fanfiction #fanfic #fnaf fanfic

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duskoon · 2 years

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“Weakness”:

Tw: Fem!Earthing!reader, Yandere themes, Stalking, Attempted murder (against the reader), Manipulation, Established relationship with the heroes (Who are my OC’s, btw.), Kidnapping, Violence, Cussing, Non-consensual touching, Non-consensual kissing, Implied hypnosis.

+ Yandere type: Possessive, Manipulative, Delusional.

+ Intensity: Medium-to-High. (A+)

+ Manipulative: High. (S)

+ Danger: Medium. (A)

QotC: “No good deed goes unpunished.” -Oscar Wilde.

Weakness. Such word only roused revulsion and dismay within himself. Yet, here he is. Soaked entirely in it, as his crimson irises trailed on the delicate frame of his recent addiction from afar. His presence is concealed, lest they -bothersome pests-interfere with his doing.

She was the quintessential of frailty; A body that can give up easily, crushed and obliterated into a bloody plump by the mere sight of a Ki-blast. His mind could not divulge him a proper reason for such obsession. Conceivably the fact, she had saved his life- ignorant of his identity- and in silent appreciation this unwanted illness has came to be.

The albino bio-android made every effort possible, to rid himself of this sickening disease. It was a plague that breached both his heart and mind. He even attempted to kill her, whilst the time patrollers “heroines” were busy elsewhere interrupting with his creator and his plans.

Maybe the strange sensation will vanish, if she ceases to exist. Just a quick twist of her puny neck and she will be gone, thus he could finally get on with his foremost objective.

The goal that he was created for and intended to achieve, that is to become the strongest life form in the whole macrocosm. However, it was easier said than done. For when the time called, his hands betrayed him. He couldn't come to kill her for some odd reason. Was it gratitude holding him back? Or was it pity? He doubted that, as a demon like him have no need for that emotion.

She could feel eyes burning into her frame wherever she went, but couldn't figure out who it was. It terrified her to her core, especially when it followed her home within Conton city. She was no one of importance, the only thing she had was her intimate connection with the heroines of Conton city and Toki Toki city. That's why she reached for her most trusted companions, to help her out with her current predicament.

“Hey Hummingbird, nice to see ya again. What did you invite us for? Is it for a feast again, you know that I love your food so much.” Anima, the female saiyan, commented cheerfully. It was so apparent, as her grey tail wagged in a way that conveyed her excitement at the thought.

“Is food all you ever think of? Did Kakarot contaminate your mind again. Plus, her name is (Y/n) not hummingbird.” Toma, the other female saiyan, stated annoyance creeping into her words.

“At least, I ain’t Vegeta lite. Also, are ya jealous of my relation with the little birdie~ ” Anima teased, painfully drawling her syllables. Her nickname made the earthling’s face flushed in embarrassment, even as years has passed by she wasn't used to her friend’s shenanigans.

“What did you say?! I ain't a rip off of anyone. Nor am I jealous, what are you on?!” The dark haired saiyan retaliated angrily -tail swishing to the sides like a pendulum-, as a dust of pink appeared on her milky cheeks.

“Sure. If that what keeps your mind at rest.”

“Why you..”

On daily basis, she finds their disputes to be amusing. Yet, today’s subject was of significance.

“Unfortunately, no. It is something unnerving and has been on my mind recently.” The (h/c) woman expressed, her tone is uncharacteristically sombre and tense. Distinguishable from her usual carefree and easygoing nature, that adorned her visage. Both heroines took notice and their expression shifted into seriousness.

“Is there someone that I need to kill? Because if that is the case, then hell ya you're speaking my lingo.” Toma remarked with a wicked grin gracing her scarred face.

“No. Lately, someone has been stalking me.” With that said, (Y/n) felt a sudden change in the air. Looking around, only to discover that Toma has subconsciously transformed into her SSJ3 form. The ground of her home is shaking with the blonde’s wrath, as the (h/c) could clearly discern the signs of bloodlust in the former raven haired warrior’s expression.

“TOMA. Calm down. Can't you see you're scaring her more than she already is, plus no super saiyan within the city parameters. Remember?” The elder saiyan reprimanded her partner. As she pointed to the earthling’s frightened countenance to verify her point.

“Fine, mother.” The latter grumbled sarcastically, hair turning jet black like it used to be prior to the transformation.

“Now, Hummingbird. Can you tell us exactly what happened and how did you come to the conclusion that you are being stalked. After all, this is the first case of someone getting stalked within a city as tightly secured as Conton city.” Anima uttered softly, confusion hazing her mind as she tried to come up with an explanation for the current situation.

“At first, I thought my mind was playing tricks or I was paranoid seeing that this city is armed to the teeth. I know this may sound ridiculous, considering I can not sense energy like you two. As weeks went by, their presence kept on growing. Until one day...” She started, as her hands began peeling off her baggy scarf.

“This mark appeared out of nowhere on my neck. I assumed that somebody tried to kill me, while I was asleep.” She continued trying to hold back the urge of breaking down in tears, as she pointed toward the imprint of a large hand on her throat. It faded into pink, owing to the passing of days. Otherwise, it would've been glaring red.

Anima’s silver eyes darkened, as she gently traced her slender fingers on the earthling’s wounded area. Who would dare harm her friend, let alone stalk her and in her sleep too? And for what gain? The (h/c) didn't have anything of value, other than the fact she was kind and respectful. She was a human, after all. Not a saiyan that was blessed with peak physical strength, nor a namekian with regenerative properties.

Suddenly, a dark possibility washed her mind as Anima locked her silvery irises with Toma’s amber ones in a knowing stare.

“(Y/n), do not panic.. I know it is a lot to take in mind, but the only ones who I and Toma believe can bypass the barrier of the city are the time breakers.” The grey-head worded her statement, mindful enough not to plunge the human further into bouts of anxiety. The fact her playful saiyan friend dropped the nickname, meant she was earnest in her saying.

“No.. No.. It must be something else. Maybe someone else is stalking me. Maybe, the city’s laws are not enforced as it is believed to be. For whatever reason do a demon want with a mere human like me?” The panicked woman endeavored an explanation, lest her mind falls into the clutches of madness and trepidation. Trying to convince herself, more so than the two saiyans.

As much as the sight of the young woman crying, tugged at her steeled heart. Toma would have her know the truth, rather than let her drown in a false sense of hope.

“I am afraid, that is the case. It is unlikely someone would break a law here and escape without a patroller being notified. Unless said criminal hid their ki skillfully, or lack it completely. At least we know the perpetrators, so now we could do something about this problem.” The silent saiyan finally spoke, wrecking the earthling’s false sense of safety.

“C’mon Toma, Could you not be insensitive for one moment in your life and be mindful of your words? The poor girl is breaking down and you are not helping the situation.” Anima responded infuriated at the younger’s harsh nature, as she took in the earthling into her strong arms.

“You might be older and stronger then me, but Kami... You're an absolute buffon, if you believe sugar coating the problem would do any good. If anything, it will make it far worse than it already is. I am doing her a favour and protecting her, instead of letting her rot in ignorance like you.” Toma spat, glaring into her argent eyes in a challenging manner. Goading the elder saiyan to refute her statement.

Anima did not say anything, why does she when her body language speaks it all? Her silvery-white pupils darkened to almost ashy grey, grim expression drawn into her porcelain visage, and her hold onto the crying female tightening. Grey tail protectively wrapping around the earthling’s waist.

“You stay with her, while I see it through with Chronoa regarding this issue. If I see one hair on her head unaligned, you will be held accountable. And you won't like me, when I am really mad.” Anima voiced calmly, with a threatening tenor in tow.

“That, you should not be afraid of. Finally, you suggested something of reason.” The taller of the two assured.

Before letting the (h/c) go from her tight grasp, Anima previous tense expression has softened up as she addressed the following words with honeyed timbre.

“Don't worry, Hummingbird. So long you're with us, no harm will be dealt against you. That I promise you.” With that, Anima flew away from the house to contact the supreme kai of time. Leaving the other two females behind.

“Good grief. Fine, I won't kill them. Even though, they obviously deserved it. Just, please, stop crying. It's irritating.” Toma groaned, seemingly vexed. However, it was far from the truth. As deep down in her shriveled heart, she truly cared about her friend. After all, the human was the first to accept the unruly saiyan unconditionally. Hell be damned, if she'd let anyone take the light and joy from her friend’s (e/c) eyes.

Hatred- no, emotions has always been an enigma that he could not personally understand nor feel. As it was unnecessary for him to have one. His body, soul, and heart-assuming, he had one.- were churning with a bizarre distasteful sensation. It was those execrate saiyans again. Not only do they persist to hinder his plans, but also steer away his obsession from him.

He wanted nothing more than to rip the sliver-head to shreds, as he watched the interaction from a device that Towa has created. At this point, his desire for a battle with the two waned into a lust for their blood.

“My, Mira. Something on your mind? It is very unlike you to be this unfocused, especially when the plan goes our way. Is it perhaps the human, again?” Towa inquired teasingly, her bloody hued pupils dissecting the brooding android.

“Not at all.” Mira replied almost instantaneously, holding back the claws of envy from overwhelming his senses.

“You can lie to Dabura all you want, but not to me. After all, I am your creator. I know all about your inner machinations, so tell me. Perhaps, I can even lend a hand. Do you wish for the human to be utterly yours and yours alone?” She suggested, whilst mischievously twirling her staff. A cruel smirk tugging at her plump lips, awaiting patiently for the demon’s response.

He felt it once again, but this time it was much more pleasant. The notion of having her close to him made his engines- heart whirl with excitement and elation. To deem her as his and his alone. What a paradise it will be, as much as raising the demon realm from it's rubbles.

“Yes, I do...” Mira answered.

“Are you sure? You seem hesitant. Do not worry about my brother, if that what concerns you. I am sure he would understand, as you are loyal and such fealty must be rewarded. No?” Towa reassured, tapping her staff on the grounds of the demon realm. By doing so, she opened a rift into Conton city.

Her words enabled his fixation more, as he gave his final verdict.

“Yes, I do.” This time, more assured then before.

“Excellent. A loyal solider, deserves nothing less. In addition to that, I can’t wait for those saiyans to crumble to the hands of despair. Watching their dearest friend, disappear not to be seen again. Especially, after being such nuisances.” The demoness uttered, face twisting into a fiendish grin.

She was walking through the recreational plaza to gather some ingredients to cook, with Toma trailing close behind her. It was her way to show her gratitude towards the saiyans, who are currently overwatching her.

“What are you planning to cook? Y’know you don't have to do this, right?” Toma stated, arms crossed at her chest.

“I know, but that the least I can do for you guys. Plus, It is a surprise you will surely like.” You replied back softly. Feeling obligated to return the favour, even if it was their duty to do so.

“Ah. You are always too good, aren't you? Just be careful, not everyone in this shitty world is well deserving of it. Do not put your life in some else hands, they're bound to steal it away.” The taller saiyan advised with a ghost of smile emerging on her blemished lips.

“Noted.” She smiled tenderly.

‘Kami, I thought at first you were weak. However, I was clearly mistaken. It was purity not weakness, and I fear for it as a demon or corrupt asshole may feed on it. Let's hope, it does end in good terms.’ Toma thought, keeping her sharp honey irises on the kind-hearted woman.

As the earthling carried on with her shopping, Toma felt four large familiar and sinister energies nearby. Her stoic visage curled into concern as her calloused hands latched on the oblivious woman, therefore startling her.

“What is it?” She asked confused and slightly worried at the drop of the buoyant mood.

“(Y/n), stay behind me and do absolutely not move.” Toma ordered, voice strained. The human nodded, as she followed the dark haired warrior words.

“Well. What do we have here? A saiyan and her earthling pet.” A feminine voice lulled from above, as a sudden pressure of evil Ki appeared with the arrival of the mysterious individuals. Two of whom are demons; With pristine white hair, azure complexion, dark crimson pupils, pointed ears, and claded in red and black outfit.

Towa and Mira, her guard dog, didn't elicit fear in her gut as much as the other two floating beside them. The fearsome pink demon with pitch black sclera, boiling red irises, mauvelous pink skin, and a menacing grin that itches to destroy anything in his path. Majin buu, more specifically Kid buu.

In a normal circumstances, Kid buu is a pain in the ass to deal with. But to add Broly in the mix, that's a recipe for a nightmare. As she remembered clear as a sunny day, how that green haired sai- no, devil stomping on her back without a single regard. Laughing with mirth at every second of her pain, as if it was the most delightful thing in the world. The only way to defeat these two combined, is via fusion with Anima.

The (h/c) might not know the gruelling details of her friends’ work, but she knew those four are to be reckoned with. She does not need the ability to detect energy, when their imposing image is enough as it is. Especially the towering and pupil-less male, that could easily snap her into two like a twig if he wished to.

“I am afraid your command is unnecessary. The human will come with us.” Towa stated, watching the power level of the dark haired saiyan rise exponentially, as her short raven hair shifted upwards and into blue hair.

“The hell she will.” Toma roared. Anger flowing her veins, like rivulet of water within the trims of a leaf at the dawn of day. She formed a ki-blade in her hand, then sped through the menaces to get a chance at slicing the female demon. However, her endeavour at harming Towa was blocked with Mira’s hands. With a flick of a his finger, the demonic android sent the heroine flying through multiple buildings.

“I simply can not let you do that. You have crossed our my way for the last time.” The silent demon finally spoke with semblance of irritation seeping onto his proclamation. As he and the pink terror chased the super sayian around the city.

“You saiyans are quite tenacious folk, despite the fact that you are clearly outnumbered you still fight. It is point-” Before she could keep going, a fierce fist hooked with Towa’s surprised face. Which sent the albino demoness soaring uphill into the sky.

“No. It isn't, you putrid bitch. Unlike you, we saiyans are prideful of our convictions. If, by Kami’s name, anyone dared to cross it.. I will eviscerate them. Starting with you, then your lap dog.” Anima, in her SSJBE form, remarked coldly as she wiped the filth’s blood from her fist.

Whilst her friends and the other patrollers were fighting, (Y/n) decided to take a refuge in the most secured place her mind could conjure. The time nest.

Which was surprising, considering the area wasn't heavily guarded as she thought it would be. Something was wrong, yet she couldn't put her finger on it.

This was her first time in here, as it usually is restricted to time patrollers, GoDs, and other Kais. Other citizens were not authorized to enter, to prevent probable alteration towards history from happening.

However, something felt off inside the time vault. Her mind told her no, yet her body moved on it's own. Curiosity already sparked, she pushed forward.

Hesistantly and carefully, She moved into the chamber. A dark voice ricocheted through the hardened walls, as they tampered with the time scrolls.

“Ah, Hummingbird. Was it? No need to be shy, show yourself or I'll make you.” The unidentified individual spoke sensing her unadulterated energy, their voice oddly familiar and jovial. Heeding their orders, she revealed herself from behind the lofty pillars.

Only to be shocked, that it was the supreme kai of time who was behind this. No, there was something uncanny about her like the two terrifying beings she saw with Toma. The Kai’s forehead was plastered with the time breaker’s insignia, as her usual deep chocolate irises alongside her sclera is as crimson as blood.

“Y-y-you’re not Chronoa, who are you?” She stuttered fearfully, perceiving the wickedness from the kai’s imposter.

“You are not as brainless as your kin, it seems.” She taunted, voice shifting from feminine into a gruff masculine one. His guise falling apart, exposing the demon king himself. Dabura.

With each step the demon took toward her, she trekked back twice frightened of his powers and what he is going to do to her.

“What do you want for me? I-I am worthless as a source of an energy, if that what you intend with me.” You voiced. Feeling the coolness of the pillars crashing with your rear, as you kept your distance from the sneering devil.

“Why such a dreadful expression? I won't hurt you.” He said, relishing on her terrified bearing. It was akin to eating from the tree of might. His poor sister’s creation mistook her purity for weakness, though Dabura could not blame him for that. She is weak, but pure.

No wonder his sister’s quiet partner was attracted to her ki, for a demon’s-even as artificial as Mira- favored craving is that of innocence and the woman in front of him reeked of it.

‘As if, with the previous threat.’ Her mother used to tell her tales, regarding demons. How they are the manifestation of undiluted evil, that tainted every creature with their heinous actions and tempting lies. Bringing out the worse of the worst within each soul, a catalyst for calamities and utter destruction.

To see one- let alone their king- shook her to her core and she felt bile rising from her stomach, as the realization suddenly strikes her. She was alone, with possibly one of the strongest and most vile beings on the cosmos in front of her, without any protection or combat experience whatsoever.

“As for your previous question, how would you like to hold the position of a princess?” The red skinned demon suggested, his cruel signature smirk remained on his visage.

“Why should I believe a foul demon like you?” You expressed skeptically, eyes scanning for any outlet to escape from. Once you do, you will run off as quick as your legs can afford to.

“Your fear is very much founded, but you earthlings and your silly superstitions are laughable. Let's not digress, this is not the point. Whether you come willingly or not, it will end up the same. Don't you think it is rather strange, that you’re alone? So do yourself a favour and do not be a stubborn brat.” Dabura chuckled at her false bravado, that masked her true feelings of paralyzing terror.

“So you're telling me those people who were sent against my companions were nothing, but distractions to drag me out here on my own?” You said, slowly working out the implication of his assertions. So, it was premeditated all along. It was them, after all. Toma nor Anima were lying, yet it was dread that clouded your judgment back then to take notice.

“Heh. You are not as dumb as you are naïve, aren't you?” The hellspawn responded jeeringly, playing with her anxiety like a predator would do to it's prey before devouring it whole.

The female bolted without hesitation from whence she first came from, once she saw the gate was no longer blocked with an imperceptible force. Her heart thumping hard against her torso, that it might as well rive through her body from the sheer terror she is currently experiencing.

Sweat rolling down her neck, blood turning cold, and her body in a seemingly permanent flight or fight mode. Desperately trying to outrun the laughing beast behind her. His steps were slow, in comparison to her speedy one. He was either taunting her or he was dragging this chase long enough to satiate his wanton sadism, for she knew that he could've caught her without breaking a sweat.

“This is completely your fault. If you weren't so kind you wouldn’t be in this quagmire, in the first place. Your tender-heart was and still is your downfall.” His hurtful words stung her deeply and confused her at the same time, yet she didn't have the stint to lament or reflect on it. Her life was on the line, yet she was unaware of the deep-rooted obsession that a certain demonic-android had for her.

She was so close to the gleaming portal, that separated the time nest from the city. Yet, she felt a pressure from behind pushing her down to the grassy ground. Her hands were tied behind her back with an insurmountable strong chains, or seems like it as she can not move them freely.

“Now, think... (Y/n) think. Whom did you help last month? A poor lady in need of assistance or an injured traveller, perhaps?” Dabura remarked hoping his statement would rejuvenate her memories, as his sharp talons grazed the earthling’s shoulder gently. As much as he wants to continue playing with her, he won't injure her. After all, he has a promise to keep with his sister.

Her (e/c) eyes dilated for a moment, as she processed his words.

‘No... No... It can not possibly be the stranger that I took a month ago and nursed back to full health.’ She refused to accept it. If it was true, then the demon king was not fibbing at all. When he stated, it was her empathy for others that screwed her over. She unwittingly helped a demon, even when they behaved in a dubious and vague manners.

~~ (Flashback, a month prior.)

It was at the dead of the night, when she had first heard it. The sounds of something hefty crashed on top of her roof, startling up the lady from her sleep. Rousing up from her slumber groggy, she decided to investigate the source of the noise.

What she has discovered made her sleepy eyes open wide at the sight of the unconscious individual. They were gravely injured, based on the electrical sparks and strange dark blue liquid seeping from their wounds.

Were they an android? She was no stranger to one, seeing that she lives in a city where she is exposed to unique races on daily basis.

Usually, she would inform the patrollers about this strange occurrence. But, it was far too late for that. Her conscious would not let her live with the guilt of not helping them either, when she clearly has the ability to do something about it.

Taking matters into her hands, the female decided to carry the person inside. Or more precisely, drag considering how heavy they weight owing to the fact they're an android she assumed. Once she managed to bring them onto her couch, her smooth hand slid over their tattered cloak. The earthling tried to remove the garment. Alas, her appendage was unexpectedly clasped in the the stranger’s powerful grip.

The alien’s lustrous red LED was glowing underneath his hood, eyeing her movements cautiously. It was quite a shock to her that they were awake based on the damage they had sustained, but she doesn't blame them for their sudden wariness.

“Don’t worry, I am here to help. If it will make you comfortable, then I won't remove your cloak. I will just patch you up.” Her statement managed to put the stranger’s mind into rest, as his robust azure hands laxed its grip on her own. However, he understandably did not let go.

“Who...are...you? Why...are you helping...me.” The stranger asked. His masculine voice was raspy and static-like, presumably due to the incision that ripped through the stiff fabric of his voicebox.

“My name is (Y/n) (L/n), and I do not need a reason to help anyone in need. What truly matters, is that you're okay. I hate seeing people hurt, including androids. Plus you needn't worry. I am an engineer myself, so you're in good hands. That I assure you.” She introduced, whilst her rough hands were carefully tending the obtrusive injury on his pectoral.

“Ho...w... naï..” His voice cut off mid-sentence, as he abruptly fell into a state of comatose. It seems his lesions finally took a major toll on his energy.

‘Good grief, this will be a lot of work. At least, it will be worth it. Seeing that I will save a person.’

Hours has passed, since then. She, first, mended the vital wounds, then progressed towards the lesser ones. It was a tiring work to say the least, especially near his pectoral region. Where she had to stitch it close with different reinforced material, than the one he was created from. So that his artificial heart, as bizarre and strangely organic as it is, would not be exposed to detrimental effects.

Within her repairing session, her mind could not help but wonder about how this particular android was created. After all, she dealt with injured androids’ time patrollers before.. All of them, seem to be made by similar components. However the one she is currently dealing with, is far advanced and distinct from what she is accustomed to.

Her final strike was shrugging it off. Thinking of the matter as nothing, but a new product that Capsule corps’ are starting to manufacture. To upgrade the current androids for combat and security purposes.

Soon after, she went to sleep. Darkness took her in its cold embrace, ignorant of the gleaming bloody eyes that stalked her drowsing figure in the shadows.

‘Foolish girl, yet if it weren't for you... I would.. No, I am far stronger than that to rely on her. In addition, this aura you are drenched in... is not something to see everyday. It is addicting, but I am better than... that. Maybe, this accident is not pointless...’

(Flashback, the day after.)

Greeting, Ms. (L/n).

My sincerest apologies, if my disappearance has distressed you. I would like to thank you for your help personally, but... I had an urgent mission that I must attend to. Perhaps... Once I am finished with my tasks, we could meet face to face.

Of course, if you do not mind that is. I would never ask of you something, that you're uncomfortable with.

Regardless, your aid will never be forgotten and overlooked. One day, I hope I'll return the favour to you. As for my name, it is attached by the end of this letter.

~ Arim, an appreciative android.

. P.s. I heard you ,earthlings, find meanings in flowers. I wish the yellow lilies is to your satisfaction. I brought it in as a compensation for the trouble that I gave you.

His words were nothing short of beautiful and elegant- albeit straightforward, yet you were flattered by it. Especially the golden blossoms that lay atop the letter, it's sweet aroma has managed to relax your nerves. How did he manage to know your favorite flower is beyond you, perhaps it was by coincidence that or he was acquainted with humans.

Honestly, you were reasonably worried about him. Despite the fact he was an adept android, his injuries were quite severe and would normally require at least three weeks of recovery. Sighing, you decided to cook a feast as two of your most cherished friends will be visiting today.

A dreamy smile adorned the female’s visage, as she continued to stir the pot. Her thoughts drifted off to Arim, finally a name she can assign to the mysterious android, as she tried to envision what he would look like underneath his shroud. ‘Probably, a handsome lad.’

As much as she would want to share her story with the two rowdy saiyans, she decided it was best to keep it a secret. Namely, out of respect towards Arim’s identity and circumstances. Soon she'll come to regret her decision, but for now she drowse happily in her own world.

(Current day)

“That look of yours... means only one thing, that you have began to finally acknowledge your current situation. Now... You better yield, if not.. Well, I have other means to make you come with me and you'd not like that.” Dabura demanded impatiently, his previous impish mood has completely dropped.

His words -however- fell deaf to her ears, as she starts hyperventilating at her own stupidity. This fucking situation would have been avoided, if she just minded her own business. But, her heart decided to intervene and play the role of a hero. Now, she pays the price for it.

Tears began cascading endlessly from her burnt visage, her breath shortened; feeling her chest getting tauter as minutes pass, and her harrowing cries echoed across the vastness of the time vault.

“My... friends will come f-for me, just you wait.” The earthling hiccuped feigning courage, barely hanging on a flimsy rope of hope.

For if that did not occur, then her mind would lose it all. If only she was a saiyan, or had the ability to utilize her own ki to its fullest potential... Then she would not be so pathetically weak and certainly not be a burden to her companions. Her sight bit by bit becoming bleary, whilst her body started tiring out due to her breakdown.

“That is... If they managed to survive.” The red devil spoke coldly, watching the female faint owing to exhaustion. Her unconscious condition is pitiful and would've garnered his sympathy, if it weren't for the fact that he could not spare any for her hypocritical kind. He is doing it out of respect for his sister’s wish, otherwise he would've killed her earlier.

It... hurts. Her head was throbbing painfully, as if she had been whacked with a strong blow on her cranium. Opening her eyes, she finds herself in an unfamiliar territory. The area she was imprisoned in was rather nice for a supposed penitentiary.

The human was kept in a fancy alabaster room, with checkered black and white marble floor. She laid on a pastel blue queen bed fit for a noble standing, which she was far from it. Apart from that, the room was surrounded with plethora of aristocratic portraits and botanical engravings that were affixed on the walls.

Alongside that, was the presence of her most beloved flowers. It decorated the room with its alluring fragrance and provided refreshment for the chamber. The individual behind this must've tailored it, specifically on her preferences.

Her fingers brushed the soft satiny cover, enjoying the texture of it. That is until a particular movement, has snapped her from her mindless stupor. She made an effort to stand up, yet her hands were pulled back into the bed. Which propelled her, much to her dismay, onto the smooth cushion. It seem like she was restrained by a hidden force, which bred a dark thought into her cerebrum.

“Calm down, do not panic.” She kept on muttered those words like a mantra. Hoping it would extinguish her rising anxiety. Looking down below the bed covers, she noticed that her clothes were left unchanged. Which somewhat quieted the worst of her fears.

“Hush, hummingbird. You have no reason to be afraid of me.” A familiar baritone voice echoed from the shadowy corner of the room. It was Arim. As much as this room was what she envision to be her ideal residence, she did neither want to abandon her friends and the place she came to call home for it.

To see help finally arrive, has sparked anticipation in her spirit to escape from this dreary area. She did not know why, but it stinks with evil and wretchedness. Regardless, that wasn't important as much...

Like a sheep waiting to be slaughtered, she waved her hands in hopes of her saviour to witness.

“Arim, is that you?” Questioned she, her eyes burning with hope and tears of happiness. Kami knows, how much time has passed since she was knocked out.

“Indeed, It is I. You needn't worry, for I have saved you. You are home, where you belong rightfully.” The android statement confounded the earthling, as her brain tried to figure out his perplexing saying.

“H..ha..ha this is no time to joke, Arim. This is not my home, never is and never will be.” (Y/n) gulped nervously, feeling his intense stare on her shivering figure.

“Is it not to your satisfaction? Perhaps a change is in need, then.” Ignoring her comment, he continued.

“W..why are you so insistent about me staying here?” Inquired she fearfully. The (h/c) decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, maybe he had hit his head or something. Because there is possibly no way, Arim would do this of his own accord.

Stepping forward, Arim, revealed himself. She was both in shock and despair once she saw who it truly was. Incredibly tall build, short snowy white hair, bright cerulean complexion, pointed ears, accursed carmine irises, red and black outfit, and that harsh stoic expression. Her saviour was all along her captor, Mira.

At this instance, she understood why fate is considered a cruel lady. For she feeds on her subjects’ anguish.

“Simply, I am protecting you from those who wish to mislead you. Look where your naïvety has lead you, that would be avoided if you left me to die. Yet, if weren't for you... Then I would not be able to accomplish my goals and for that I am completely grateful.” Mira spoke bluntly. Despite his stolid disposition, his crimson eyes creeped with an obsessive need to hoard her.

Akin to a dragon selfishly hoarding it's most valuable treasures, far away from the leering sight of the unworthy. Soon his large hands began brushing her arms gently, lest she falls asunder at the mere spike of his own power.

His hands were utterly cold, so chilly it may as well be colder than the vacuum of space. She should have noticed the signs before. If she did, she wouldn't suffer like this. The earthling tried to retract her hands from his grasp, but to no avail it only grew tighter.

“Grateful, how?! By letting your cohorts kidnap me, possibly hurting my friends in the process, and daresay lay destruction upon my home. The only precaution I need is against you not from you. Let me go, you bastard.” She screamed, shaking her invisible shackles in a fit of boiling rage. Angered at her stupidity, outraged at the injury of her friends, and especially wrathful - or is it sadness under the guise of fury?- at the man, no- demon who took advantage of her kindness.

Mira’s impassive expression shifted into a seemingly saddened smile, as his cool magnetic eyes melted into softness. Which only managed to invoke bitterness within the captive.

“Those weak saiyans appears to have poisoned your mind with their barbaric ways. It is my duty, as the future king of the demon realm, to ensure the safety and comfort of my queen. That, and I've come to see you in another light.” Mira started, whilst his rugged appendage has moved from her polished hands to where her heart was located. The action caused the earthling to suddenly panic, perhaps he had decided to end her for her insolence.

However, she was far from the truth. If anything, he had finally accept it. That she may be weak, but if it weren't for her purity... then he would be gone forever. After all, androids do not have souls and thus can only be permitted to live once with no afterlife awaiting them.

“Wh-what light?”

“You saved me, in turn I must save you. And that I love you.” The bio-android’s statement has shook the already terrified woman. The softness in his eyes remains, lips upturned into genuine smile across his azure visage.

The chamber was drowned in uncomfortable silence, while the (h/c) tried to comprehend his deluded sayings.

‘What?! All this time, a demonic-android have been pining after me?! Shit, if only I had... reported the incident back then. But, it's far too late for that.’ Her brain was swirling full with regrets. Despite that... She won't give up on her friends, home, and all that she knows easily for a demon’s whims.

“An android cannot love, let alone a demon like you. You fucking tried to kill me.” Spiteful she was, making an effort to harm him with her words instead of force. Her words stroke a nerve in the albino, as his smile shifted into a demented grin. Fit for a demon like him. Showing his true colors, that what the earthling thought.

“If that what you personally believe, then let me change your mind. After all, you once loved me. Surely, you can do that again.” Before she could rebuke his argument, a pair of cold hungry lips has abruptly locked with her own in a heated session.

Groaning, she attempted to push the hulking male away from her. Yet, his hold on her arms stilled. It was not harsh to the point of leaving a bruise, yet it was firm to keep her in place. Looking in his usual red eye, she noticed that his pupils began to glow white.

After a while, Mira removed his lips from hers. With that being said, her energy began falling. Thd last thing she saw before her eyes fluttered close, was Mira’s vile grin. She doesn't know why, but that damn kiss had drained her vitality completely.

“Hush now, my Queen. Once you are awake, by then the universe will be at the tip of your fingers. Now rest your mind, and succumb to me and me alone.”

An:

I decided to add a new ranking system, regarding yandere’s attributes. (Z being the highest D- being the lowest.)

QotC = Quote of the chapter. It gives the one shot it's general theme. Based on the quote, you can guess the reader shot herself in the leg by saving Mira.

The quote is often associated with Oscar Wilde, yet there has some speculation that someone else (Anonymous) had said it before him. If I figured out who, then I will edit it.

Also, I must apologize for my inactivity lately. I had mid-exams concerning calculus 2 and data structure, for those who are curious.

On another note, dragon balls has a huge following. Yet, barely any yandere writing I wonder why. 🤔

General question, which db/dbz/dbgt villains is your favorite or/and scared you the most when you were younger?

Reblogs are much appreciated.

Lastly, I hope you enjoyed this one shot. I also hope that I didn't butcher the character’s personalities (especially Mira). Personally, this is not my best but I needed to get it done and post it. Mainly, because I've not been posting anything for a while. 🥲

#duskoon.speaks #yandere dragon ball #yandere dragon ball x reader #yandere dragon ball xenoverse #yandere dragon ball xenoverse x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere mira #yandere mira x reader #tw: yandere #tw: stalking #tw: attempted murder #tw: manipulation #tw: kidnapping #tw: violence #tw: cussing #tw: non-consensual touching #tw: non-consensual kissing #tw: Implied hypnosis

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