#it's a necessity sometimes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lliminall · 2 years

Text

fear will change us

[yandere!feitan x reader]

word count: 2.7k

tags: she/her reader, yandere, violent character death (not reader), kidnapping, feitan fucks shit up for you

You suppose it was only a matter of time before Feitan’s reputation bled into and infected your own life.

Well. Beyond what it had done to you already. You were hoping the first time you stepped out of his home in months would be under much different circumstances. Maybe you would finally outsmart him, or maybe some brave hero would come and scoop you up out of his hold, like one of those Hunters you hear about.

Feitan had reminded you more than once that your luck just wasn’t enough for wishful thinking like that.

The night is hot, sticky. Your thin nightclothes cling to your skin as you try fretfully to sleep, with little success. You had only just started to drift off when the sound of a heavy boot splintering the front door rips you from your sleep. Bolting upright in your bed, skin prickling despite the heat, you listen as those heavy boots and more make their way to your room and throw open your door as well, shining lights in your face, pinning your arms behind your back, asking you in a grating voice what a bitch like you is doing with a monster like him.

Feitan is not home. He was supposed to be, sometime tonight, but there are men in your room with hands fisted around your wrists who Feitan would not have hesitated to kill, and the fact that they are standing means that you’re alone in this. It’s a cruel testament to your horrible, horrible luck that the one time you want him he is nowhere to be found.

The man holding your wrists pulls you to your feet in front of him and pushes you out of your room, through the house where there’s another man waiting in the hallway, another by the hole where the front door used to be, and another waiting in a car outside. Four in total. They shove you into the waiting car and the locks click into place behind you, leaving you alone with the man behind the wheel. In the rearview mirror, your eyes meet his, and they do not quite have the same cold edge that Feitan’s have. You think that they’ve underestimated him. You think that, if he were here, he would have all of their heads. But he isn’t, and you’re locked in a strange car, and the other three men outside are deliberating over something while you shake in the backseat.

It occurs to you then that they didn’t come for Feitan at all. They had come for you. It makes sense, you suppose. You must be one of the only constants in the man’s life, soft and weak and easily broken. For someone as powerful as him, as intimidating to approach, it would be a fruitless endeavor to even try to cause him harm.

To hurt you instead must be the next best thing.

The passenger door swings open and one of the men slides into the seat.

“Chris wants to check the basement,” he says to the other. “See if there’s anything left from Ash.” The man in the driver’s seat scoffs.

“Like that prick would bother to keep anything from his victims. You know how many people these guys kill?”

The passenger raises a hand in surrender. “Chris’s vendetta, not mine. And besides, the spider won’t be back for another few days. I’ve had my guy keeping tabs on him.”

At that, your breathe hitches. Days until Feitan gets back? Are they wrong? Did Feitan lie to you about his return date? It wouldn’t be the first time. You think of all the things these men could do to you in that time, the distance they could take you, further from Feitan, further from your own only hope. Wet heat prickles behind your eyes and you bite your cheek to keep it from spilling over.

“Tell him to hurry up at least,” the driver grumbles. “I don’t want to be here any longer than we have to be.”

And maybe your luck isn’t so terrible after all, because the moment the man closes his mouth, he and his partner are sitting bolt straight in their seats, eyes trained on the house, sensing something you can’t see, as if they’ve felt a shift in the energy around them. Whatever is there, they don’t like it, and the enemy of your enemy is probably your friend, right?

“Is that Chris?” the driver asks.

“Fuck no, I know his aura.”

“Then it’s Rick?”

“There’s two signatures and I only recognize one of them.” Panic has begun to bleed into the men’s voices, the driver’s hands tightening around the wheel.

“I thought you said you had tabs on the spider?!”

A window shatters, the sloppy figure of a man scrambling through. His focus is locked on something inside, and you watch as he rips a gun from the holster on his hip and unloads it into the house. Faster than your eyes can track, something small and dark flies through window and connects with the man’s hand, and he drops the gun with a shout as blood sprays.

He leaps away from the window, moving faster than any normal human should be capable of, and plants his bleeding palm on the ground. The earth around him shifts and breaks, and your breathe seizes as you watch three dark shapes claw out of the dirt, inky black and snarling with sharp teeth. They look like dogs, you think, and at an order from their master they growl like them, too.

Through the splintered front entrance, another figure emerges, stalking through with the nonchalance of a predator whose victory is ensured. You recognize the bandana around his neck, the eyes with the steel-cold edge your captors lack, and your heart races with hope. You’ve never been happier to see him. You’ve never been happy to see him at all, until now.

He steps into the glow of the headlights. There is blood on hands.

The car lurches. The men in front of you who’ve made no movement or sound are finally driven to action, driven by their fear, and your gut twists with nerves again as the car reverses down the driveway at reckless speed. Feitan’s gaze flicks to yours, and you plead with him, beg him with your eyes to please, please help me.

The dogs lunge at him and the car swerves onto the road. Feitan disappears behind the tree line. You are alone again.

“What the fuck are you doing!” the passenger cries. The driver’s hands are white-knuckled on the wheel. He doesn’t respond.

“I said what do you think you’re doing?! Turn around!”

“Like you were jumping out to fight him?!” the driver responds. “They’re dead, Sean, I’m not getting murdered for some other guy’s revenge scheme!”

“So you’re leaving him to fight that guy alone? We agreed to do all this together.”

“If you’re so eager to get your head chopped off, why don’t you jump out and run back to him?” the driver spits. Sean bristles, and his mouth snaps shut. His eyes betray his every thought as he considers it, considers running back to his friend who is certainly in a losing fight, and risking his own life for it. You watch the guilt settle in as he realizes he isn’t going to do it.

The drive is quiet for miles, save only for the rumble of the car flying down the dirt roads, and you are trembling with fear. Will Feitan find you? Are you even worth the effort to him? If your captors believe their friends are dead, how much more reason will they have to take all of their grief out on you? That prickling heat from before begins to build in your eyes again, but you don’t dare make a sound. If you sob, they will hear you, and if they hear you they’ll remember that you’re there, waiting for them to exact their retribution on.

The glow of the headlights casts a road sign into view ahead. TWENTY MILES TO SAVANNAH, it reads. It’s the first you’ve heard of the town. Feitan had never allowed you even the slightest idea of where he’d taken you. Now you know that he’d hidden you in the middle of nowhere, in the thick of the darkest woods, and it still had not been enough to keep you there. You had always assumed it was more to keep you from getting out than to keep anyone else from coming in.

You are halfway across the distance to the town when the silence is broken.

“Pull over,” Sean says.

“You’re joking. You want to go back now?”

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” Sean says, his voice beginning to waver. “God, we just left them there. We’re fucking nen users and we ran like pussies. Pull over.”

“I’m not turning around just to die with the rest of them,” the driver growls.

“I said pull over!” Sean reaches for the steering wheel and the car swerves as they grapple for control. The driver slams the breaks, grinding the car to a halt in the middle of the road, your arms flying out in front of you to brace against the front seat.

“You’re a fucking idiot if you think you can take that guy!”

“We all agreed to this, we all knew the risk going in! That was your friend and you don’t care that you left him?!”

“I care that I’m alive and not strapped down in that motherfucker’s basement, and I’m not about to let that change!”

The arguing continues, and not once does either man glance back at you. You wonder if you could leave now. Throw the door open, take off running, make it to that town 10 miles down the pitch black road. You think again of the man who pulled dogs out of the dirt, of the way the men in front of you sensed Feitan before you could see or hear him, and you think that you would never stand a chance against them. A single bad move could be the tipping point that convinces them you’re not worth the trouble of being kept alive.

As if sensing your thoughts, Sean’s eyes flick to yours. They are frantic with adrenaline, and your blood chills as you freeze in your seat.

“Fine, stay here,” he growls. “I’m going back for that prick and I’m bringing this bitch with me. We’ll see how much he cares about her when I cut her fucking throat in front of-“

The words die on his tongue, and both men whip their heads to the driver’s window for only a second before something collides with the driver’s door, crashing into the car with enough force to send it rocking onto its side wheels. The door dents under the pressure before it’s ripped off the hinges altogether.

There is no time to react. A hand slices through the dark, plunging through the drivers neck with a sickening wet noise, crunching through bone and tendons. Behind the dying body, your eyes meet the gaze of his killer, piercing straight through you above the hem of his bandana. They are wild, frenzied, spattered with blood. It drips from his head, soaking through his clothes, the remnants of the man in front of you and his two dead friends. You don’t dare move.

The passenger seat collapses back and Sean lunges for you, catching you by the arm and yanking you into his chest as he dives into the back seat. The sharp edge of a blade presses into your neck.

“I’ll kill her,” he says, and his voice shakes. “I swear to god, I kill her right here. Just get out and don’t move, or I’ll-“

Before you even register him moving, Feitan is on top of you, fingers curled around the blade at your throat, his other hand disappearing behind your head as that sick crunching noise comes again, this time from directly behind you. As soon as you’ve heard it, liquid heat pours no down your back, soaking through your clothes and dripping down your spine. You gasp and press yourself into Feitan, away from the bloody spray, but you’re met with more blood as your face meets the soaked fabric of his shirt. The smell is sharp and metallic. His chest heaves under your cheek.

You look up at him, and his eyes are fixed firmly on yours. They’re wild still, and his breathing is ragged and heavy. There is no other car outside. You realize, with no small amount of wonder, that he ran to you.

The knife clatters to the floor, and you catch sight of thin red lines along his fingers before he grips your chin between them and turns your head from side to side, eyes trailing over your cheeks, your neck, every inch of you. Inspecting you.

“They-they didn’t hurt me,” you say in a wavering voice.

His eyes have locked onto your lap, and you glance down to see what’s caught his attention. Bruises on your wrists. The men had dragged you out of the house.

You begin to cover them up, hands rubbing over them and feeling the ache you hadn’t noticed before. Feitan nudges them away, fingers ghosting over the purpling marks. He leaves bloody smears behind, traces from the cuts in his hand where he blocked the blade threatening your life. You let out a shaky breathe.

When he’s satisfied that you’ve sustained no other injuries, he nods towards the other end of the seats. You crawl past him obediently, not once turning to look at the body slumped against the window behind you.

You hear the door open and the thud of something solid hitting the ground, and the noise repeats on the driver’s side in front of you. When he’s cleared the bodies out, Feitan comes to stand in front of your window. You sit on your heels as he opens the door and move to get out, swinging your legs over the edge of the seat, but he doesn’t step aside to let you pass. Your face is level with his chest again. His eyes are calmer now, meeting yours with the dull hint of something you can’t quite recognize. Fatigue? Frustration? No.

…Relief?

Mindlessly, you collapse forward into his chest again. You realize you have not stopped trembling. Your breathing is too shallow, your legs too boneless to stand. His fingers card through your hair, and your mind blanks as you realize that he’s petting you. Comforting you.

Tears sting at your eyes for the third time that night, and your hands come up to fist in his shirt. This time, you don’t bother to stifle them down. You sob, openly, into his chest, feeling his sticky fingers catch and stumble through your hair. He’s getting you dirty. There’s blood drying down your spine, soaking into your clothes that cling uncomfortably to your skin. You don’t care. You cry and he doesn’t mock you for it.

His hand comes to rest on your back and you take that as your cue to pull yourself together. You sniffle one last time and take deep breathes into the metallic scent of his clothes.

“Can-can we go home now?” you ask quietly. He nods above you and moves to let you out. You don’t stop to think that the home you’re asking for is the locked box you’ve been praying for escape from.

Home, not prison. Home, not hell.

You climb into the passenger seat, the only one not soaked with blood, and Feitan slides in next to you. His phone is in his hand, and you see the name Shizuku at the top of his messages before he shuts it off. He turns around, starts back in the direction of his house, away from that town waiting miles away, and away from the bodies behind you. You look back at them then.

They are piled in the ditch by the road. He hasn’t bothered to hide them, and you wonder how he can be so confident that they won’t be found and investigated. Your thoughts are cut short when you notice the bloody stumps of their arms in the grass.

Your hands grip the marks on your wrists again, reigniting that dull ache.

Their hands have been severed. Lying several feet away from their bodies are the hands that touched you, hurt you, took you.

You turn back around in your seat and say nothing. The ride home will be quiet. Feitan will not look at you, and when you get home, neither of you will mention the bodies or their missing hands.

You’ll both be happy to leave certain things unsaid.

#I wrote this whole thing in like one long feverish haze I was possessed #sometimes u are a horrible man who stabs people for fun until your girlfriend gets snatched #and then you become a horrible man who stabs people for /necessity/ and that is ok #simp feitan is still in the works I just had to get this out of my brain #feitan.ll #hxh.ll #feitan #hxh #feitan x reader #yandere feitan #my works.ll

623 notes · View notes

chibishortdeath · 8 months

Text

Uh ok catching tumblr up on some drawings I’ve posted elsewhere part whatever, I’ve got a lot of Simon’s Quest stuff to go through. This one is mostly a single sketchbook page I think, maybe one is from a different page, but yeah all made around the same time. Also lol idk how to post anything so I just kinda dump things into the same post I guess, hope that’s fine d(^^ ; ) I’m keeping all the serious ones to the same post tho

This one has a really long explanation, but I just can’t think of it on the spot rn. I like it still tho :3

Just some little doodles, some of these have a lot of scribbled ones around them cause I was struggling drawing him again at the time and couldn’t figure out why, turns out I was just drawing his hair the wrong direction lol

Bro’s a little hysterical here, I don’t blame him, I imagine rotting alive would not be very good, hmmm I should rant about that sometime. I have too many ideas for curse’s effects and stuff hehehe >:3c

Speaking of:

These are all attempts at depicting some effects of the curse. They’re cool I guess, but I think I need to work on my depiction of it a little bit more to get it to look more like rot rather than just wounds if that makes sense. It’s really hard to depict with just red gel pen tho, rot is really mostly a lot of colors and rounder patterns idk it’s hard to explain. I guess he’s like “nude” but it’s just Ken doll level detail for anatomy practice and so that the curse is visible.

Idk if I should like tag for something or put a nsfw or content warning on this????? I also don’t know if this is too long and I should cut it shorter or not uhhhh yeah

Idk uh anyway bye that’s it

#castlevania #castlevania games #simon belmont #art post #my art #simon’s quest #sometimes I just gotta draw Simon covered in blood #it’s a necessity #there will be many more dumps like this #so many #my phone is so low battery rn lol #uh anyway #maybe eventually there will be another non Simon’s Quest post #hopefully soon #I’m drawin soma rn so yeah #I really don’t know what to say lol #enjoy I guess <3

35 notes · View notes

aldieb · 4 months

Text

i'm rationing one episode of scavengers reign per day but this show still has a death grip on me... all the best sf stuff like "how close can you get to something before it consumes you?" "what are we going to do about the fact that we're not closed-off separate systems but rather permeable components of our environment?" "how many stern butches can fit in this thing?"

#text tag #i guess the first question is also like. a moby-dick question. there must be moby-dick derivative sf out there and i need it #additionally the sparrow heads this is sparrowlike. sometimes you go to a planet and it’s a horror movie #also i’m still waiting to see how this ends but like… the necessity yet danger of letting people in… aaa #also also there are so many great froglike creatures in this. evil telekinetic frog wife you will always be famous

17 notes · View notes

studentbyday · 5 months

Text

uuuggggghhhhnnnggghhhuhuhuhuhuhhhhhhhhh

17 notes · View notes

rxttenfish · 5 months

Note

PLEASE tell us more about virina mishra im such a sucker for nextgens

OOPS FUCK I GOT DISTRACTED AGAIN AND FORGOR TO ANSWER THIS

virina!!! my beloved virina!!!! littlest froggy!!!

aaravi and miranda very much both wanted to actually, you know, have a family. its one of those things where you come from someplace so shitty and so terrible, that you just cannot imagine someone else going through that same thing, and you cannot bear the thought of making someone else go through the same thing. to be fair, they are both TERRIFIED of just repeating the past and ending up in the exact same loop that their parents did, terrified of just heaving back on the same generational trauma and wreck of a childhood, but there comes a point in being afraid of something where you just need to get rid of this fear. its too constant, its too forever, its too eternal. sitting through it and avoiding it isn't making it go away, and they already fucked up avoiding it by finding each other and loving each other, so dancing around the issue isn't helping. instead, what they mutually land on is just... a want to prove that fear wrong. a want to prove that fear wrong, to prove that they aren't doomed to be just a weapon and just a source of death in all its forms, that they can hold something in their hands and make it grow. best way to avoid repeating the past is to take responsibility by the leash, after all. they want to go back in time, to give themselves the childhood that they always missed, and the best way they figured to do that is to give that to someone else.

this is something that very much existed since their relationship started to get serious with each other, and something that's been in the background the entire time since, so its not like its a mystery or anything. if anything, they've been using this want as a motivation, as a need to keep going even at the worst of times. they will have this happy future. they will make it through this together. they will make it work. no more ifs, no more buts, no more doubt. stop living in the doubt and start acting as though their happy end is a foregone conclusion and something that they are going to have no matter what, give no room for fear or guilt or shame or depression or self hatred to sneak in. they will be happy. they will make someone else happy. they will be someplace safe, not just for themselves, but for their loved ones too. they will be good. they will be.

even after everything blows over (mainly from miranda's family, she is still crown princess and stepping away from that was never going to be an option they gave her), it still takes a few years for them to broach the topic of having a kid for-real. just to make sure everything's settled. just to make sure everything's safe.

they have virina later in life than some of their other friends or just in general, but they were planned and wanted for so long that the wait is worth it. the name, as i've mentioned, comes from aaravi. she knows her mom was a... complicated woman, she knows her own raising wasn't perfect and that there were things that she still cant fully forgive her mother for, but she had a hard life too. she too deserved better. despite it all, aaravi still loves her mom, despite despite despite. and so she does the best thing that she can to honor her mom, to honor her memory, to give her the life that she never had the same as aaravi herself, and gives it to virina. the mishra last name was a no-brainer already, miranda already look aaravi's last name and preferred being a mishra over a vanderbilt anyday.

years later, virina also earns the nickname of "froggy" - primarily because of their own love for the animal, constantly finding them and bringing them in from outside. likewise, miranda and aaravi decide to raise them genderless, and to let them decide for themselves how they want to be referred to when they're older.

virina doesn't really take much after either of their moms, though. mostly they're quiet, shy, keep to themselves. where both of their moms are brash and dominant, very confident in themselves and willing to bowl over quieter personalities, virina seldom speaks, and when they do, its soft-spoken. they get easily spooked and cry easily, especially when it comes to other people. they cling to their moms legs, hide behind them when other people come around, prefer the company of animals over other people, tend not to like new things or new people and greatly prefer sticking to their simple, easy routine. they just can't figure out other people, seemingly, not understanding them or how to make friends or even what's appropriate or not to say in a conversation.

this isn't to say they aren't deeply intelligent and curious. they quickly learn to love venturing outside with their moms, playing in the garden or chasing bugs and frogs. they come in with sticks and rocks, make mud potions, try to build things out of sticks and befriend birds. they prefer books over people, ending up much more of a bookworm than either of their moms ever were, and ends up a very big nerd as they get older. theyre close and affectionate with the friends they do make, but this is a small handful of their very most trusted, and they never get much better at figuring out social norms.

in time, they lean a little bit more towards the femme side of things, growing their hair out long and liking long, swishy skirts that they can spin and sway over and over, that doesnt cling too tight to their legs. they end up needing glasses, and end up picking a pair thats large and circular, making their eyes seem all the more owlish. they settle on they/she, but never have particularly strong opinions about gender regardless. they can be blunt and quick to frustration, especially if they feel people arent understanding them, and are forever going to be deeply embarrassed over how their moms dote on them. i very much see them getting intensely interested and starting to study either linguistics, literature, history, geology, or any biology that takes them closer to the marshes and wetlands that they love.

they never think very much about how one of their moms used to be a princess, heir to a kingdom. beyond an instance as a kid that ended with them dropping a training sword repeatedly and crying, they never get very interested in following the slayer line of work. they fuss over small stakes, have their moms grate on them sometimes in both of their old ways, and they live a normal life.

#all the care guide says is 'biomass'#miravi.txt #monster prom #asks #Anonymous #anon #you might notice this as a theme with my fankids #in that i very much LOVE making them be the opposite of their parents #or otherwise be a personality that would have - if it were one of their peers - have annoyed their parents #because thats just the nature of kids! you have no promise that theyll be just like you!#theyre just their own little people! and you cant control that!#and hopefully. you come to accept that and love them regardless.#because theyre still just little people. they have no control over this. they need you to take care of them.#and thats okay actually.#...... also yeah it annoys me to no end when people make fankids and just. fuse the parents.#instead of having them be their own character with their own feelings and personality....#like! nah thats a whole ass other person! they came from these other two people but that doesnt mean shit!#also tbf i think miri and ravi would be THRILLED that virina would get annoyed by them sometimes #specifically in the sense of FUCK YES LOOK AT HOW FAR THEY'VE COME #they have reached the point where the habits that they developed out of necessity and a need to survive #are now just annoyances and no longer appropriate for the world they created together #THEY MADE IT. LOOK AT HOW GOOD THEY'VE DONE!!!#fully the type of moms to kiss all over virina's head and hug them to death while they squirm and whine that #MOOOOMS. YOU EMBARRASSING THEM.#what bliss to be embarrassing!!!

15 notes · View notes

floralovebot · 11 months

Text

And Another Thing it's not like i Don't like roygarth or that i'm particularly Against the ship cause no. but i think their canon relationship is so much more interesting than this weird fanon version of them where they were always Best Buds.

like canon roygarth starts with them being angsty teens dealing with their own shit and fully refusing to understand each other. garth latches on to everyone who's even a Little nice to him and roy is stuck in his I Don't Need Friends They Disappoint Me stage. roy also has very high standards for himself and gets pissy with garth cause he feels like garth shouldn't be a hero. which obviously sets garth off because he Also feels like he shouldn't be a hero but the other titans were usually supportive and understanding whereas roy would actually say it and insult him directly.

And Then garth fucks off and only talks to the titans when they talk to him first, then he's Fine Again but goes through Rough Shit. meanwhile roy's life is Also falling apart. but they get older and they get more mature and they get to this point in their life where they don't Want to fight each other anymore. the titans are their home and they're constantly losing people and they don't Want to lose what little they have left. but they also won't apologize or talk about what happened because they're both emotionally repressed so they just never clear shit up.

it's obvious that later on roy Does respect garth and Does see him as a hero, but he never apologizes for what he said in the past so garth still has doubts. and garth starts to gradually leave the titans out of stuff and only update them once a fucking year so roy is like ?? What Are We??? and as adults you can see that playful banter and that familiarity they have with each other and yeah it IS genuine but it's also burying all the blood bad they never actually sorted.

they're just in this really weird zone where they're Family but they're not Friends. they would give their life for the other but they never talk. they pretend to understand the other but they don't know anything going on in their life. they're best friends and they're just some guys. like imo their canon relationship is so interesting and has So Many Layers that really highlight their individual problems but the fanon version is always like "yeah sometimes they sass each other :)". like.

#yeah im still thinking about them what of it what are you gonna do about it #ajhdgljagd #like i think its so interesting how they really only became 'friends' because theyre so familiar with each other despite not being close #like roy is Not close with garth in the same way that he's close with dick #and vice versa hell man garth feels more comfortable with Wally The Republican than with roy #but theyve known each other for So Long and theyve both lost so much that they just can't do it anymore #they can't fight they can't insult they can't force themselves to not understand the other #but neither of them want to bring that shit up either so they just... start acting like they were always buds #and its Weird and Awkward #roy still doesn't understand what jokes are okay and garth still takes things way too literally #but they're Trying and they do respect the other but they also REFUSE to actually talk it out #they both refuse to talk about their personal lives with the other and only give the most bare basic necessities #garth still has insecurities and feels like roy actually hates him and doesn't want him there #roy still feels bad but is also still burned from garth being too nosy or not understanding his addiction #and like. that's just so much more interesting than yeah sometimes roy calls garth a fish hahah funny right #dc #garth of shayeris

41 notes · View notes