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teddybeartoji · 2 months

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THE LITTLE LAMB AND THE BIG BAD WOLF

on a hunt for supplies, you stumble across someone's belongings. a little bit of theft is fine, right? the cold barrel of a gun at your temple says otherwise.

☆. contains: toji fushiguro x gn!reader; apocalypse au; horror, detailed descriptions of blood and death, slow burn, crack, reader is simultaneously a scaredy-cat and a baddie, toji looks scary oh nooo

☆. word count: 6k

☆. note: the world is based on tlou!!! i am soooo into this fucking concept like i'm officially sucking my own dick here. tagging my beloveds @staryukis & @awearywritersworld bc omfg apocalypse ideas!!!!!! and also @dollsuguru @venusiansilk @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat @mossmurdock i love you guys so so much thank you for all your support<3333333

+ here's the masterlist

in a world so fucked up – it's easy to get lost in the darkness.

when the infection took over, everything changed. everything. people aren't people anymore – they've become hosts for a type of fungus known as the cordyceps. it grows all over the brain and takes control of the body, turning the person into something they're not.

if anyone were to ask you how many have you killed, infected or not, you'd be devoid of an answer.

it's hard to find your way when just about everything is out to get you. infected or not – there's always something ready to tear you into pieces, to sink their teeth into your soft flesh – that's just the way things are now.

but you're used to it. used to the feeling of adrenaline pumping in your veins as you run from a horde, used to the feeling of a blade at your throat, used to the feeling of a punch, of a slap. used to the constant grumble in your stomach, used to the sore legs and shoulders, used to cleaning off blood from yourself and your clothes, from your weapons. you're used to the gurgling and clicking, the crying and sobbing, the begging and pleading.

but no matter how much you tell yourself that you've grown used to the horrors of the new world, you cannot escape the anxiety that hides under every inch of your skin. it's always with you – holding your clammy hand as it drags you into the depths, into the shadows. you try to fight it but it's hard.

it's hard forcing away the only thing that holds you so tight, the only thing that truly cares for you. it's is a suffocating blanket that hides you from the cruelty of the world, trying its best to shelter you from it all. it's better to stay inside. it's better to stay away. they're going to hurt you. something is here. just stay here with me, under the warm blanket. they're coming. it's going to hurt. let's stay here forever.

don't you want it to stop?

being torn apart by the cold crippling fear and the warm rotting hands – it's getting harder and harder to breathe. but you've learned how to keep them at bay over the years; always in the line of sight, always on your mind. there's no rest for the wicked.

moonlight leads the way as you make your way to a shopping mall. the wind howls in your ears and sends a shiver down your spine. moss and ivy cover the walls of the massive building, swallowing it bit by bit, making it a part of the nature as the time passes.

the axe in your hand feels heavy, but right nonetheless. the handle is stained with blood; it has seeped deep into the wood and now acts as an extra weight to the blade. a small 9mm handgun sits pretty in the holster around your thigh, a knife hides in its leather sheath on your belt, a bow rests on your shoulder and a few arrows peek from your bag.

despite the armory, your bag hasn't been this empty in a while. the blame falls on a group of men you ran into a week or so back. precious ammo and resources were spent on the bastards, and while the blood reward was good - the lack of food and meds is now becoming concerning. your shoulder still hurts from the fall, a big dark bruise transforming your skin into a painting of the midnight sky.

you shake the flashlight on the strap of your backpack and listen to the batteries bounce around inside it. you give it a stronger shake and it turns on. the broken glass shines as you carefully step inside the big atrium and take a look around. your little light forces back the creeping shadows, now showcasing you the infected bodies that lay dead on the ground before you.

pools of blood conflux together and paint the tiles a dark shade of maroon; the ichor flows in between the cracks and disappears under the soles of your boots when you step further inside. they're fresh. light reflects off the liquid as you squat down to take a closer look. none of the three bodies seem to have bullet wounds – one of the runner has a slit throat while the other leaks from a hole in the side of the head and the clicker... it's head has been completely bashed in, making it hard to even recognize it as one.

beating up a clicker is not easy by any means; though the fungus growing on their face and head blinds them, it also acts almost like armor. they can take a bullet to the head and still keep coming – the call of death rippling through their body as they run at you, hands reaching out to grab, to pull, to hold.

the fact that they did this, either with their bare hands or some other blunt object, just means that they're good. it also begs the question whether they didn't have the bullets to spare or they simply decided not to use them. you just hope you won't bump into them.

standing up, you take another look around. a trail of bloody footsteps leads right up the escalators and you decide that you won't be going there yet. there are a few more bodies, two runners, sitting limp against the crumbling walls as you step down one of the hallways. the broken tiles and the glass cracks below your feet and you cringe at the noise.

never letting go of the axe in your hand, you stroll past the first stores seeing as they're completely ran through. with a sigh, you make your way over to one of the clothing stores. it's almost pitch black in there and you almost jump out of your skin when a mannequin suddenly falls at your feet. muttering out a row of whispered curses, you lower your axe with a shaky breath and adjust your flashlight. the shelves are pretty empty but that was expected; still, when you open up a cupboard door under one of the mannequin stands, you find a stack of perfectly fine sweatshirts. you check the other side of the piece of furniture and find... nothing. scoffing to yourself, you just bag the a sweatshirt and a pair of pants from another shelf before moving to the next store.

glass breaks and you hear shuffling – head whipping towards the sounds, fingers tightly gripping the axe, you take a step back and bump right into the shelf behind you. pieces of clothing fall onto the floor and a cloud of dust rises from the impact; you pay it no mind as your eyes are still glued to the counter, to where the noise came from, but when after a few second absolutely nothing jumps at you, you let your shoulders relax a little.

a stalker, maybe? but they don't tend to live in open spaces like malls, or so you think at least. the majority of them you've ran into in places like office floors and a fucked up basements – meaning they like to lurk everywhere where it's extra dark and where there are places to hide behind. yeah, they do that. little shits, taking cover behind desks and walls, playing a game of hide and seek that you never agreed to. you're never forgiving yourself for taking that wretched route.

you peek over the counter and look all around it but find jack shit. it's the darkness – it's what it does to you, to everybody. the shadows start to speak and move, the floors creak and crumble, and the growths on the wall whisper your name, no matter, how much you tell yourself that they aren't actually doing any of that that.

it's just the old building crying out from loneliness, the haunted ghosts simply looking for company as people pass by, as the infected pass by. you have to keep your head straight. faint blood marks stain the floor but it's too hard to tell whether those've been there for years or less.

you hastily knock on your flashlight when it begins to flicker, leaving you in the dark for just a blink but it's enough to have your heart thumping loudly in your ribcage.

making your way out of the store, you scour for your next location and ah-ha!

a pharmacy.

two bottles of antibiotics rattle in your bag but those aren't enough. you'll always need more of those, you'll always need more of gauze, painkillers, of everything – going in there is a must.

a metal roll-up door closed mid way is going to make this harder, but as if that isn't ominous enough – the quiet cries coming from behind it only makes the situation worse. a runner. but luckily, it isn't making too much noise and you make an educated guess of it not moving around. they do that when there's nothing to catch and tear apart, when nothing has caught their attention. they stay in random spots and whimper and cry to themselves. it makes them an easy prey.

the thought of the metal door sliding shut just as you're trying to pass under it, is making your stomach churn. and so is the thought of you making too much noise by accident and attracting the runner when you're still down on the ground. stop being a pussy. there could be emergency kits in there, pills, there could be a feast of medications in there and you're holding back. it's unacceptable.

you slowly kneel down to the cold floor and inhale sharply before lowering yourself further down. the only light in the room is yours and it immediately finds the twitching runner.

it is cowering in the corner.

you're just fucking glad they don't react to light as much as they do to noise, otherwise you'd be fucked already.

you crawl in the dust as quietly as you can, careful to not touch any of the furniture beside you that seems to be holding up the door. the last thing you'd want is to get locked in here. or get cut in half. you clench your teeth and push yourself up and to your knees the second you can do so and take a second, as you wait for him to turn around and lunge at you. but he doesn't. his back is still turned to you as he waits for you, sobs for you; his body trembling, hands folded in front of his chest – almost like he's hugging himself.

quietly holstering the axe, you pull out your knife instead. it's quieter. you grip the handle, fingers molding into the dents that have formed over time. another step and the light goes out. it's complete darkness. you hear your own heartbeat in your ears and the miserable cries of the infected just a few feet away. your eyes widen as you try to focus on your surroundings. your hands grow clammy in a matter of a few seconds and panic seeps into your body.

you shake the flashlight a few times and it turns back on. your breath is still stuck in your throat as you try to compose yourself. stupid old thing. the light paints the runner's shadow onto the wall in front of him, making it look like he's a part of some shadow play.

one more step and you're with him, a breath away. your hand goes around his chest, holding his hands and body in place as you sink your blade into his neck. it sinks into skin and flesh like butter, soaking you in the dark red ichor that hides underneath as he gurgles something at you (a thank you perhaps).

yanking the knife back out, the splattering ichor coats your skin and you immediately wipe it off against your shirt. his body falls with a thud! and another big dust cloud rises from the contact and your nose itches— it's— it itches— achoo!

your eyes are an inch away from escaping your head as you spin around, making sure that nothing is jumping at you for making a noise that loud. but surely enough, nothing seems to be interested. exhaling deeply, you rub your nose and force down the embarrassment that's crawling on your skin before starting your hunt for supplies.

it doesn't go as well as you'd hoped – only bagging a few stitching kits and a bottle of painkillers. better than nothing.

ecstatic to get the fuck out of a closed, pitch black room, you crawl back out from under the metal door and dust off your clothes.

strolling through some more stores, you're met with more dead infected. two clickers and two runners, no bullet holes. ignoring the corpses, you manage to find yourself a few nice t-shirts, a pack of boxers and a box of 9mm handgun ammo from under the cash register.

when you've gone through most of the wrecked stores on the first floor, you finally decide to take a look upstairs. the bloody footprints haven't left your mind but the fact that it's been so quiet, makes you think that maybe they did really just pass through here.

the moon light your way as you drag yourself up the escalator. the stars in the sky are barely visible because of the dirt on the ceiling window and you frown.

in front of you there are two hallways with stores on the sides and in the middle. the prints lead to the left side and towards the a lonely door at the end of the coridor; the signs on the walls don't indicate what room it might be – a security one, maybe? shaking your head, you focus on the stores ahead of you. the shop in the center is a big sports one; most of the mannequins have fallen over and their limbs are scattered all over the floor, pairless sneakers rest on top of each other and the shelves are a push away from collapsing into tiny little pieces.

stepping over the bloody clothes, you view the baseball caps on the rack when your light goes out again. you feed on the faint moonlight that's coming from the hallways as you scramble to shake the thing again. steps, you swear you heard steps. the last standing mannequins stare at you from the shadows, laughing at your misfortune. a hand touches your hip and you can't hold back the yelp that slips from your lips. you turn and bump into another statue. the light flickers three times before it actually turns on and you find yourself inches from an eerie smile. intinctively, you give it a firm push as you take a step back, hands shaking as the panic settles down once more.

no one else is here. you can't see whoever could've made the noise and by now you're sure that if something or someone is really hiding in the dark – it would've already made a move if it wanted to. stalkers don't play for that long and neither do humans.

a row of protein bars hide in a drawer in the staff room of the store and you happily throw them in your bag, along with some weird looking granola bars.

the right side of the second floor only offers you a new lighter, three pairs of socks, a can of soda, a simple necklace and a broken watch. what's the point of it if you can't tell time? it looks cool. no other reason.

heading over to the left side of the building, you keep a keen eye on the door. the remaining shops are forgotten the closer you get to where the prints lead and you officially commit to checking out the place.

the blade of your axe shines in the moonlight, your steps extra light as you creep up on the door. readying your weapon, you press down on the handle and quietly push it open. it swings all the way and thumps against the wall. the room is lit up, the windows letting in the natural light. you're greeted with rows of computer and tv screens on the tables, three black duffel bags and some lockers and cabinets next to the walls.

you check the corners of the room and let out a relieved sigh when you don't find anything hiding. closing the door, you carefully step around the broken glass on the floor. it seems to be originating from what used to be a glass case showcasing various medals. awards for the best security guards. how silly that sounds now.

the lockers have been cleared out, the only things left behind being two lovely couple's phots with hand-drawn hearts above their heads. you leave them there. the cabinets don't have anything good either. you glance back at the door for good measure before kneeling down in front of one of the bags on the ground. you pull the zipper and are met with treasure – multiple bars of chocolate, the same sweatshirt you found from the floor below, various cans of canned food, two water bottles and a small knife.

your eyes glint and the corners of your lips twitch upward, your body has a mind of its own as it immediately reaches for the chocolate. glass breaks and your eyes flick to the now ajar door as you reach for the gun on your thigh but when you feel the cold metal of a gun barrel resting against your temple... you freeze.

"don't."

...

your stomach drops, eyes glued to the bag in front of you. the voice is deep and it's rasp, confident and sure of himself; the metal against you doesn't move, it doesn't shake.

you hold your trembling hands out, fingers spread to show that you don't have any intention of grabbing your weapons. a deep breath in and a deep one out. you try to turn your head towards him but he just presses the gun deeper into your skin, forcing your gaze right back down.

his big stature looms over your smaller one and you feel like an ant that's about to be stepped on. he lets you soak in the threatening silence, the only sound being your own racing heartbeat.

"s'rude to steal, y'know."

the man doesn't sound angry, he doesn't sound mad or upset. he sounds... annoyed, if anything.

"i asked you a question."

shit.

"i– i wasn't stealing." you stammer out.

he scoffs. "wasn't stealing? just fondling my shit for fun then?"

the teasing tone makes your eyebrows furrow and you try to turn to look at him again, your body slightly raising from your knees but the gun on your head keeps you down. funny, how heavy a piece of metal can suddenly feel.

"it was empty in here! i didn't know these belonged to anyone! i–i'm sorry! i'll leave, i'll leave!" it's a pathetic slur of words accompanied by a pleading tone and you hope that it'll do the trick.

there are strategies for dealing with people and this is simply one of them.

and it does work because the next thing you know, he's lowering the weapon. you let out a shaky breath before turning to him and fuck.

he's... terrifying.

towering over your kneeling body, he's massive. big chest and broad shoulders, he looks like he could snap your neck with his bare hands. the moonlight is only making him more menacing – his dark hair falls in front of his eyes as he stares down at you; there's a scar on his lips and streaks of blood cover his skin, from his cheek to his jaw and down his neck.

dark clothes and a dark jacket – he looks like he belongs in the shadows. the fact that you didn't hear him until it was already too late is making your skin crawl. he probably only let you hear him. for the fun of it.

the terrified look on other's faces can be addicting. the big eyes and the wobbling lips; how they shake and beg – you're no stranger to it, you've had your moments, too.

other than the gun in his hand, there's a second one holstered around his big thigh just like you do. a serrated knife sits his belt and it keeps winking at you, the flashlight reflecting from it as you pull in big breaths of air.

"you're saying i oughta just let you go?" he scoffs, yanking you from your thoughts.

"please..." your stomach grumbles on cue, helping you look meeker than you really are.

you're sure you just saw him wince as he squats down beside you but the thought is brushed away immediately when the man cocks his head to the side and scratches his temple with the barrel of the gun. his scarred lips stretch into a big wolfish grin, showing off his sharp canines and his eyes glint from behind the black strands of hair, making him even scarier now. the big bad wolf.

he's taking you apart with his eyes, dissecting you and your thoughts with a smug expression while you're fending off the waves of fear and try to look as composed as you can. though you feel like it isn't working at all.

"d'ya find anything good from the pharmacy?"

"why were you stalking me?" your bark comes out sharper than you intended and his eyebrows raise an inch, eyes shining with something teasing.

"kind of hard to miss ya when you're making so much noise, sweetheart. and yer in my spot, anyway." he sigh with an eye-roll.

your lips part in a small gasp. "i was not making that much noise! and– and what do you mean 'your spot'? it's a fucking mall, i need things, too!"

"clearly." he motions to the duffel bag resting at your feet and you swallow your next snarky comment.

"sorry."

"what was that?"

just glaring at him, you hate how amused he seems. the fear in you dissipating fast and something akin to annoyance is starting to grow in it's stead.

"i didn't even fucking take anything!"

body leaning forward, fists balled up and eyes on fire – he's thoroughly entertained by your barking and you immediately purse your lips.

"relax, little lamb, will ya? tell me... what'd you find in there?"

you scrunch your nose at the stupid nickname. despite how non-threatening he's being right now - you're still planning on running. you'll give him whatever he wants and you're getting the fuck out of here.

"nothing much. stitching kits and painkillers."

he's hums disappointedly and you can't help but wonder why. is he looking for something in particular? is he hurt? "what do you need?"

"forget it."

"i have antibiotics, if that's what you need."

at that, his ears perk up. "is that so?"

you nod at him.

"well, c'mon then, show me what ya got."

you stare at him for a moment before peeling off one backpack strap. you pull the bag onto your lap and feel his heavy gaze on you as you dig around the thing. it doesn't take you long to find the right bottle, pulling it out and handing it to him.

the floor creaks and it has you both turning towards the sound in an instant. he has the door in his sights but nothing is there. your heart is hammering in your chest again and you can taste the bitter anxiety in the back of your throat again.

you've never seen anyone hold their gun so steady as he does. no shake, no tremble; he's not even really squeezing the thing, he's just holding it. there's no pressure, no anxiety – it's simply an extension to his body. he's comfortable with it, and he looks good with it. a bead of sweat rolls from his temple and mixes with the drying blood on his skin before disappearing under his clothes.

his breathing is normal, he's calm as he lowers the gun back down and starts observing the bottle in his other hand. your eyes are still on the door, still wary of the ghosts that lurk around.

the man squints his eyes at the miniature text on the bottle in the dark and you hold back a laugh.

"need me to read it for you, old man?"

"watch your mouth." it's playful at best, no real sternness behind it whatsoever and it makes you roll your eyes. you're about to ask what he actually needs the pills for but something in the corner of your eye draws your attention.

a pair of dull, grey eyes. staring right back at you. dark veins run all over her face and neck, her shoulders and her hands and she peeks from behind the doorframe.

one second. no more, no less. your sharp intake of air gets his attention just as the stalker lunges from the dark hallway, but she is met with a hole in her forehead before she can even take a proper step inside.

small pieces of brain splatter onto the wall behind her and she falls limp to the ground just a few feet from you. he's waiting for another one to pop up, his eyes still glued to the door and you know that this is your moment. he has the meds, so he shouldn't chase you down anyway. you have to go now.

scrambling up from your knees, you try to speed past him but immediately choke when the collar of your own sweatshirt sharply cuts into your airways. his grip on the material is strong and he pulls you right back into him, back into his arms. he's mere inches from your face but before he can do anything else – he feels a blade against his throat.

you really aren't the little lamb he thought you were.

he's comparing you to a feral cub in his head – big wild eyes, snarling and showing your teeth, trying to act tougher than you are, but when the sharp edge of your blade sinks deeper into his skin, he realizes that maybe you're not actually in over your head.

he already expected you to run, he was waiting for that but he thought it'd end up with you you crying and begging or something. he didn't see this coming – you're definitely craftier than he thought, faster too.

"now... why would you do that-"

you don't let him finish. "are you gonna hurt me?"

"you're the one with the knife at my throat. i should be asking you that." he rolls his eyes as your knife grazes the soft skin below his adam's apple and you're thinking about actually cutting him just out of annoyance.

"you have the pills, why not let me go?" you bark back.

"you're hungry, aren't ya?" he questions calmly. his gun hand is lowered, he's not pointing it at you but his other hand stays on your back, fingers still digging into your sweatshirt. it's warm, his body is warm.

"so what? you gonna feed me like some stray cat?"

"y'don't want to eat?" he deadpans.

...

you bite into the soft flesh of your inner cheek. of fucking course, you want to eat.

"y'can take two cans from the bag. i mean, y'were eyeing them anyway."

"why?"

"for being my entertainment tonight."

the blade on his throat finally draws blood and a drop of it runs down his skin, disappearing under his shirt.

"i oughta kill you for putting a gun at my head."

"yeah?" he cocks his head closer to you, the blade moving with him, making a few more droplets dribble from the tiny wound. "go for it, sweetheart."

his eyes are green. they're green like the leaves that sprout from between the cracks in the asphalt on a sunny day, green like the moss that flourishes on the trees in the forest, green like the ivy that is trying to swallow the world. you feel his heart beat a; calm and steady while yours is amped from the sudden proximity. he sounds so arrogant, like he knows you're not going to hurt him.

(you aren't.)

when you lower the knife to push at his broad chest with a scoff instead, he lets you. his hand falls from you as you take a step back, your face now illuminated by the moonlight. scars litter your skin, bumps and cuts – just like him.

"are you done?"

you hum with a pouty lip and put away your knife, eyes following his figure as he holsters his gun before picking up the fallen pill bottle. when he steps by you, he plucks your flashlight from its place on the backpack strap with way too much ease and proceeds to head over to one of the duffel bags that sits on the table behind you, carefully stepping over the broken glass on the floor.

"hey!"

he shushes you and your fists tighten beside your body. you look at the dead body that lays next to the door with a perfectly centered hole in her forehead. the blood pools around it, soaking her clothes and the ground below her.

you used to think about the infected more, used to ponder about how long they've been like that and whether the person they used to be is still... in there.

it doesn't matter.

you've come across people, who talk about not wanting to kill them – what if they really are still in there? but isn't that exactly why one should kill them? you can't even begin to think about how it'd feel to be stuck inside your own body as the infection takes over, making you into something you're not. how it'd force you to tear your loved ones apart just for the sake of it, how you'd turn into a bigger monster with every passing day, every passing second. you just hope that if you were to get infected, you'd still have the mind to end it. or have somebody do it for you.

you don't want to end up like her.

"i didn't realize there were stalkers here." you mumble to yourself as you tear your eyes from her. "other than you, of course. fucking creep."

he starts digging around in one of the bags and you take the moment to really observe him. his back is almost twice your size and you're sure his one bicep is bigger than your whole head.

the man scoffs. "thought i got them all but... oh, well. should've let ya handle it – was your fault anyway."

"how the fuck was that my fault?" your voice raises at his claim and you regret it, knowing exactly what his response will be.

"you are fucking loud, sweetheart."

"fuck you."

he just hums out a mhmmm. he pulls a piece of paper out of his bag and uses your flashlight to examine the text on it. his eyes. he waves at you over his shoulder. "you know where the cans are."

simply scoffing as a reply, you kneel back down to the bag but his voice cuts in again.

"and don't you dare take that chocolate." he doesn't even turn around, completely focused on comparing the information on the paper to the info on the bottle of pills. you roll your eyes again and curse him under your breath. "i wasn't gonna take your stupid fucking chocolate..."

when you've bagged your goodies, you push yourself up again. the trees dancing in the wind outside catch your eye, they look so carefree. just living from the sun and the moon and the rain, they have nothing to fear. nobody will harm them, no infected, no people. you can't wait for nature to take back everything it deserves. the cities and the buildings; it'll swallow the corpses and the living alike and you're happy for her.

he rustles with the paper, twisting it around a few times and you're about to ask what he's looking for but he cuts you off.

"why not make a run for it earlier?"

you stare at his back with a confused look. "what do you mean?"

"you gave me the pills and then tried to run. antibiotics are hard to find, y'know." he sounds curious. or patronizing.

"i know that... i had to wait for the right moment." you admit, fiddling with your fingers. "i was going to give them to you anyway, old man."

"not a lot going on in that little head of yours, huh?"

...

you let his audacity waft over you before biting back. "oh, i'm sorry... for... being a... good person?"

he turns around and leans his ass against the table, folding his arms over his big chest as he mocks you with his annoying smug grin. "i pointed a gun at you and you still wanna share your little precious belongs with me? that's cute, i guess."

"yeah. you just look like you fucking need them, alright...."

"so, you agree that you're a fucking idiot?"

your lips part in shock. "hey! look– do you want anything else or can i go now?"

"can i have my flashlight back?"

"no."

"wha— " you take a step toward the man and he raises his brows. "but it's mine! how do you expect me to go outside without it?"

"no manners whatsoever."

huh?

your jaw drops again. "excuse me? wha– what's that supposed to mean?"

"first, i catch you stealing— "

"i already apologized for that— "

"—then you try to kill poor old little me, and now you're asking for things without the magic word... tsk-tsk-tsk." he closes his eyes and shakes his head in disappointment.

"i'm not gonna fucking beg for my own flashlight back, bitch."

...

he barks out a laugh.

a loud one, from deep within his stomach. his head falls back and a pout forms on your lips, heat crawls up your neck involuntarily and you avert your gaze. "you're terrible, just terrible, sweetheart."

he takes your prized light and tosses it to you before pulling out his own from behind his back. you flip him off. "funny though, i'll give ya that..."

you grumble a yeah, thanks under your breath as he blinks the light at you twice. "may i go now?"

he stares at you before answering. "yes, you're dismissed."

at that, you knock your heels together and sharply bring your right hand to your temple – imitating a military salutation. "yes, sir!"

something sweet.

he tastes something sweet on his tongue. he wipes the drying blood from his neck and his cheeks hurt.

you're some random feral cub and yet, you've peaked his interest like nothing else. no cries and no wails, no begging and no tears – scared but alive. ready to part with valuable meds just because he apparently looks like he needs them. tch! growling at him even though he's caught you red handed, cutting him even though you weren't in danger anymore.

he hasn't felt this alive in a long time, either.

"don't let me see you again, old man."

playful, at best. you're matching his tone and the corners of his lips are reaching back behind his ears. you bite your inner cheek; despite everything – he's the most normal person you've met since the end of the world. he's not mean nor is he aggressive; everybody points a gun at a stranger these days. he made jokes and he gave you supplies – it's more than anyone has done for you in a while.

you look at the wolf in the shadow and he looks at the lamb in the moonlight. the wolf that offers food and protection and the lamb that cuts and steals.

the wolf that bleeds and the lamb that holds the blade.

524 notes · View notes

envy-of-the-apple · 2 months

Note

The yan!stsg x reader cheating has me in a chokehold for days actually! As much as its thrilling, vindicating and flattering that these hoes come crawling back(except for gojo? Hes like the newest addition to you so hes just strolling in your 3sum 😭😂), beneath that surface is actually a heavy cesspool of angst(i love angsts!) like thats where your vision of unrequited love in yan trope comes in delicious clutch

Youve forgiven, moved on and stuff— theres no coming back to loving suguru again; but the banger is!!! Amidst your years captivity, you forgot how you started loving suguru. Yep, forgot.

You dont wonder the moot points how suguru is unrecognizable from the time youre with him nor question yourself what made you fell in love with the pos in the first place.

But youre trying to remember how you fell for him in the past because you feel nothing now; indifference, and how jarring you find yourself to be in this predicament— and so that trying to be with the two in your turbulent captivity would be freeing in companionship.

But the thing is, your feelings are like ashes that stsg is trying to ignite again, but you feel nothing; or a blind person trying to perceive colors or stuff.

JUST imagine sugurus pain in the later years, youve got hidden diary in between your cloud docs or written in little receipts thats about your regrets and your love for a person(thats after him) and that love is so full of passion and longing its borderline painful that you tried to get back to feeling any semblance of emotions for suguru but failed. Just suguru pathetically stewing in regret, how he shouldve handled both you and gojo and rage, because you loved another person thats equivalent to how you used for HIM lmaooo

I hope ive articulate my feelings for this prompt quite fine??? Im struggling with english(its my 2nd language), i hope you get the gist of it xD thanks for listening to my rant, but i had to share this brain rot 😭🙏😊

istg if you dont get outta my inbox and wRITE THIS SHIT RN-

ughhh i think its even worse that you've forgiven them, right???? lets face it, it's only cuz of you suguru and satoru were even able to get together. those two fucking suck at communication and you basically taught suguru to love and be vulnerable. maybe, even before the cheating happened, you became friends with Satoru, you talked about things together, he become softer with you and he fell for you. They both loved you, but they loved eachother too.

you forgive them, because of course you do. but it still hurts to see them, so you leave. Maybe you move cities, ignore their phone calls, block their numbers. You meet someone else. Someone who gently puts you back together, makes you learn to trust again.

You forgive Satoru and Suguru enough to send them wedding invitations. It's all water under the bridge, you think to yourself. You don't realize that they still aren't over you. That they will never feel complete without you. They've lost contact with you for years but now you've given them an exact date, time, and location.

They don't care how happy you are with your new partner. All that they care about is how happy they'll make you.

#yandere #yandere jjk #dark gojo satoru #dark jjk #yandere gojo satoru #dark geto suguru #yandere geto suguru #yandere satosugu #x reader #satosugu cheating au

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spilltheventea · 11 months

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Sorry if you aren’t taking requests, I couldn’t tell 😔

but I have been having brain rot for this idea- what if the creator spoke to the traveler? Like how in game we ‘control’ them, but instead we are a guiding hand, even appearing to them in dreams.

like the traveler isn’t from teyvat originally, so at first they have NO CLUE who the creator is, so they never tell anyone. And one day they mention it in passing to like a archon. “Oh yeah, I hear a voice in my head helping me through my travels! They are super weird and know wayyy to much, but they are nice to me!” Mean while the archon in question slowly pieces things together.

bonus points if the creator gives commentary like the players do, like “girl- you can deliver that letter yourself” or “paimon dear me, I love you but shuttt up”

No worries! I'm always taking requests, although I may not always be able to answer them quickly.

A/N: This idea is utterly fantastic, and I hope you enjoy reading my take on it!

Ever since the traveler woke up in teyvat, they've been hearing this odd voice in the back of their head. The voice always seems to understand how they're feeling and see everything they see.

Every time they've tried to tell paimon, she's just brushed it off as them being crazy. Hence why they haven't really told anyone. They just assumed that anyone they told would react the same as Paimon.

But today, while they were having tea with Zhongli, the voice just wouldn't stop talking about how pretty his voice is and complaining whenever paimon interrupted him. So, they decided to tell Zhongli about the odd occurrences.

Zhongli, having always been a rather knowledgeable person he listened intently to the traveler's tales. Although still holding his composed exterior, Zhongli was rather confused, attempting to piece together his knowledge and come up with a reasonable explanation.

The traveler may be the creator's first vessel, but what are the chances of their grace residing within the traveler's mind. Zhongli kept asking questions about the traveler's experiences. Stuff like "Do they ever appear in your dreams?" And "Can you see them?"

The more the traveler explained, the more confused the archon that stood before him got. "The holy creator has been with you all throughout your journey, and this is the first that I'm hearing of it?" Zhongli interrupts the traveler beginning to get mildly fed up. Why didn't the traveler tell him sooner, do they not trust him.

'Blah, blah, blah!' The voice inside his head blabs, and the traveler swears that for a moment they saw a person standing in the corner of their vision.

"Traveler, you seem distracted... Is the voice back?" Zhongli asks, swirling his glass of tea.

#genshin impact #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #genshin zhongli #zhongli #genshin traveler #sagau creator

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yandere-daydreams · 9 months

Note

Feel free to ignore this! I'm just v sleep deprived and having brain rot inspired by some things I saw in ur writing and thought it may be up ur alley. Also this brainrot thingy is mainly aimed at readers who have the ability to get pregnant so if that don't sit right with you feel free to ignore it or change aspects of it!

Hear me out right. A mix of the sex doll au and hybrid au (either fox or husky) for childe. But like in the doll au how he replaces components as a form of trying to live out the dad fantasy? Yeah that but in the hybrid au. Like reader is trying to rehabilitate this poor little baby fox kit/husky puppy that's really sickly and was abandoned. Childe basically looks at the reader playing nurse/mommy for this poor thing almost 24/7 (his attention is being deprived lol) and goes "oh yeah that little one is ours duh". He starts exhibiting protective dad behavior while simultaneously being like "look at how good of a job I can do".

Follow up to that the pup/kit either gets better and can be handed off to another conservationist who has other young hybrids and would do a better job at caring for them in a group environment with other hybrid kiddos so there's less of a risk of em becoming too domesticated. And reader is supper bummed out about it for a while bc all their attention was zoned in on this one really precious little one and now they've moved onto bigger pastures 🥲. Meanwhile childe sees this and is like "oh now I can both console my mate in their grief, I've proven I'm a capable partner, I can totally help them make new little ones!"

Take all of that inspo/brainstorming as u will. Also if you consider people submitting ideas as commissions I apologize for misunderstanding! Did not intend to overstep 🙇‍♀️

tw - implied violence, child neglect/abandonment, and obsessive behavior.

fjdkljdfksdj i think this would probably be more plausible with husky!childe, but something about this scenario with fox!childe is just,,,

it'd just be so sweet to watch him dote over the tiny, terrified kit one of your friends found shivering in a snowbank. you really aren't qualified to take care of such a young hybrid, but while you scramble to get a hold of a more experienced volunteer, childe picks up the slack. despite being old enough to walk, the poor thing barely leaves his arms. he handles their near-hourly feedings, modifies the ill-fitting clothes you pull out of storage to accommodate their tail and hind legs, even lets them crawl between you and him at night and violate his cardinal rule (no one else gets to so much as touch your bed except for him - an unspoken law that's resulted in more than a few bitten hands and bleeding guests). he does his best to put a dent in their never-ending energy, and when it's time for you to take over, he's never more than a few feet away, wagging his tail as you take the kit's temperature and try to convince them to swallow a few drops of medicine. and, when you finally contact a volunteer with a small shelter and a pack of orphaned kits, childe seems as happy as you are, rubbing his cheek against theirs as he tells them that they'll be home soon enough. it's sweet, even if fox-hybrid dynamics are, admittedly, a little lost on you. honestly, you're just relieved you'll be able to sleep through the night again.

at least, you're relieved until you get back from work the next day, until you find your door unlocked and your apartment wrecked, furniture overturned and rust-colored stains soaked into your carpeting. you find childe on the foot of your bed, bouncing a crying kit in his lap and gushing them quietly, but he doesn't look concerned. if anything, his posture is slack, the smile written across his face nothing short of ecstatic. he looks calm. he looks happy.

he looks like someone who only just found his way home.

#hybrid au #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere childe #childe x reader #yandere ajax #yandere tartaglia

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jamil-s-wifey · 10 months

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Howdy~! Loved your writing! Can I request a fluff/angst scenario in which Jamil Viper suddenly had a nightmare of hurting his fem! s/o during his Overblot and when he wakes up, he quickly rushes over to Ramshackle to check on her, make sure she’s okay? Please and thank you!

Hi, hello hun! Thank you very much, I'm glad my writing brings a smile to people's faces! I love writing comfort fics, so this is right up my alley! Every comfort twst fic has been consumed by yours truly! I hope you enjoy!

WARNING: Dead bodies and mildly gruesome imagery. I kind of went overboard with the nightmare portion-

Drip drip drip

The only sound which could reach his ears was the incessant dripping of ink, covering the ground beneath his feet.

Slithering snakes obscured his peripheral vision, red hot rage filled his veins. The school was in shambles, in every corner there were bodies littering the ground - weakened and malnourished students, who lost their lives under his fanatic dictatorship.

He was the master, but the master of what? Of ruins, of a rotting building, of a dying student body, controlled against their will, of darkened cold nothingness hidden behind lavish feasts and glittering gold. And then there was you - his jewel in the rough, his biggest treasure, kneeling before him, eyes filled with hatred, fear... and exhaustion. You dared not look him in the eyes, but your downward gaze spoke volumes - the love of his life who refused to succumb to her master's wishes.

"Pitiful. You keep disobeying your master. Haven't I taught you manners?"

You refused to answer him, gaze never leaving the ground.

"My treasure, have I not given you everything?" His voice lowered threateningly. "Or perhaps you'd choose to follow in your classmate's footsteps. Perhaps it was foolish of me to believe you'd be anything different than those mindless slaves."

You didn't answer.

"Or perhaps they've contaminated your brain. That must be it, why else would you refuse so adamantly the life of a goddess. Oh, my love, we must cure you."

He grabbed you by the hair, pulling you up. On instinct, you closed your eyes, refusing to catch his gaze.

"Smart little girl." He whispered in your ear. His snakes left painful bitemarks on your skin - covering older ones who'd begun to fade.

That's how it had been for a while - you'd lost track of time. He'd call upon you, lavish you in expensive jewellery, feeding you feasts made by the bloodied hands of your classmates, whisper sweet nothing in your ears. Then he'd get angry at your lack of response and throw you away, leaving you alone in your chambers.

Only this time, it was different.

"Perhaps I should turn to a more radical form of treatment?" His strong hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing.

Your breath became ragged, strained.

"You chose this. I am merely delivering."

You grasped his hand, trying to wiggle away, but it was useless. You felt the ink on his hand seep into your skin and clothes, contaminating your very being.

Your gaze slowly faltered, eyes closing, before he threw you on the ground.

_____________________________________________

As the heavy thud reached his ears he opened his eyes, frantically looking around. He was in his room, it was the middle of the night. He was sweaty, breath ragged. He'd fallen off his bed and that's what woke him up. He searched around for any indication that indeed it was all just a nightmare. With trembling hands he pushed himself up to sit on his bed. His hair was a mess, his heart was beating so loud he felt it might burst through his chest. He felt sick to the stomach, a twisted feeling of guilt, despair and disgust eating at his very core.

His gaze turned to the framed picture on his bedside table. It was you two, on your visit to the Scalding Sands, your arms are wrapped around him and a cheerful smile graced your features.

Was that smile...even real? Or were you being controlled?

Without thinking, he grabbed his shoes and sprinted out of his room, dead set on seeing you, rules be damned.

_____________________________________________

You were woken up by a hurried, frantic knocking on Ramshackle's front door. You slowly got up, cautiously making your way to the entrance. Even though you knew it couldn't be anybody threatening, besides you had the ghosts and Grim as back up, a little caution never hurt anybody.

What you didn't expect to see is your frazzled boyfriend, engulfing you in a bone-crushing hug the moment you opened the door.

"Whoah, Jamil. Are....are you okay?" You gently hugged him back, fingers gliding through his hair, untangling any knots he might have.

He didn't respond, instead pulling back to look you in the eyes. You looked at him dead in the eyes, no fear or disgust in your gaze whatsoever. All he saw was worry and perhaps curiosity. His eyes were glassy with untold emotions, gaze heavy with guilt.

"M-may I come in?" He inwardly cursed himself for stuttering.

"Of course, you can. Come in, come in." You grabbed his hand, leading him to your couch. "What happened? Here. I'll get you some water, did you sprint here?"

Before you could get up, he pulled you to him, hands gently cradling your face.

"Jamil, my love." You breathed out, reaching out to cup his face, "Did you perhaps have a nightmare?"

His guilt-ridden gaze moved to the floor. Somehow, only from you, he couldn't hide a single thing.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He wasn't sure what to answer. Now that he was with you and his head had cleared up, he realised how bizarre the situation was. Of course it was a nightmare.

But that didn't get rid of the weight on his heart.

"I... dreamed of my overblot. I saw... destruction everywhere. And I was hurting you. Constantly. And the fear in your eyes, it looked so real. I -" he sighed deeply. "You died... By my hands." He felt a lump forming in his throat.

"Oh, Jamil."

"And I know it's just a dream, I know but-" he couldn't keep talking. It all overwhelmed him so much.

"Jamil."

"S/O, I-"

"Jamil!"

He snapped out, turning to you.

"Jamil, I have never, ever, for a single moment, felt afraid or disgusted around you. Your overblot happened, we can't change that, but you didn't hurt me. You didn't then. And you haven't since. And I know very well, that you'd never intentionally hurt me in any way. I trust you and I feel safe around you."

He let out a shaky breath. "How do you know you're not being controlled even right now?" It was stupid of him to ask, but his mind wasn't letting him rest.

"Jamil, both you and I know you can't keep using your unique magic indefinitely. So far, every single thing I've done, I've done on my own accord."

"And you don't fear me..?"

You looked at him dead in the eyes, with the most unwavering, serious gaze you could muster.

"How could I fear the man I love?"

He pulled you in for a gentle kiss, which he poured all of his emotions into.

"I promise you, I won't let any harm come your way, I will do everything in my power to keep you safe and content, and free." He mumbled, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"Love, you sound like you're about to propose." You teased, trying to lighten the mood.

A small smile graced his features. "Perhaps in the future.", He thought to himself.

"How about we go back to bed, you are most certainly staying the night here, mister. I'll be right next to you when you wake up."

"I'm sorry for barging in at such an ungodly hour."

"Oh, shut up~. You know you're always welcome here, and besides, I'd always prefer to have you next to me when I sleep."

He didn't really understand what he did to deserve you, but you were his beacon of light and he swore to treasure you and keep you safe for as long as you let him.

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2af-afterdark · 6 months

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Would you believe me if I said I have some more ✨thots✨ on Omega MC in WHB?

Like how Beel/Bael is a two for one deal because MC’s sweet sweet heat pheromones are driving them crazy?

Or how everyone in Abbadon (idk if it’s one or two B’s) just are eagerly waiting to help (and by eagerly I mean fighting each other to have a chance)

Or how Naberius and Buer are just at each other because they should be helping the sweet “innocent” omega? (Dogs man /j)

I do wonder if you have any other thots on this, go as rabid and feral as you want for this, I live for Chaos

🦩

I saved this ask. I saved it for a rainy day. Today is my rainy day. fun fact: omegaverse is one of my comfort genres. I read it whenever I need a pick-me-up

First part

Bell would pop up in Avisos unexpectedly the moment MC enters their heat (he smelled it across all of Hell); walking into the sight of Bael already peeling open their shirt and groping them while his nose is buried against their neck to sniff at their sweet scent. They are both turned on by smell and a human omega is a new experience; a surprisingly sweet treat. Cut to MC in Bael's lap, his hands all over them, and Bell eating away at their wet entrance. MC will walk away covered it bite marks... if they could walk afterward, that is.

Abbadon is a complete toss up. I have the feeling a few members would be more than happy to work together (see Phenix and Ronove) but some may want MC along because they don't think the poor human could handle the session if they had to handle more than one devil all on their own. RIP to the cute omega, because those devils will still go back-to-back without giving them a proper break. Good thing Paradise Lost is always ready to lend a helping hand. Speaking of which....

Imagine Paradise Lost! The healers are no joke. If anyone knows how to be extra rough with a desperate omega, it has to be them. They have the terrifying ability of healing people to the point that it's like they were never injured at all. They can go pretty far as long as MC doesn't die or lose a limb... And considering how rotted an omega's brain could be during a heat, they may not even notice how rough the boys are being. All they know is that everything feels good.

But, yes, I think Naberius would be the worst™. Dog smells bitch in heat (affectionate) and loses his fucking mind. He would be humping MC so fast that they wouldn't be able to do much else than beg him for more. God save you if you try to come near his omega. He will bite you will all three of his mouths (I like to believe he turns into his Cerberus form when MC is sleeping so they can cuddle against the big puppy).

Glasyalabolas would be a jerk about it though. He lives for chaos. He would tease and torment MC without a hint of relief just so they keep spreading all those sweet omega pheromones and drive everyone else crazy. He'd watch the entirety of Hell turn into fistfights over MC... then he'd finally steal MC away and give them what they've been craving from him just so all the fighting was pointless and everyone else is left blue balled.

LEVIATHAN THOUGH! Just imagine him finding out MC is in heat! Imagine how quickly he grabs MC from wherever the fuck in Hell they are at that moment and stealing them away to his room so that he's the only one enjoying their sweet scent. Imagine how many days he spends with them completely drunk on their heat, loving on him and only him. Then imagine how envious he is after MC's heat passes because "do you only feel that way about me when your mind is addled?" so he makes them prove that's how they always feel about him for a few more days on top of it.

And what about Mammon?!?!?!?!?! Man owns the world and would gladly give it to MC in a heartbeat. He also has zero hang ups about sexual acts in public, so I can see him going about his day despite MC's heat and just letting them climb on top of him whenever they need it. Fuck! I wouldn't be surprised if the entirety of Tartaros is as their disposal and that they don't have someone waiting on them hand and foot between the the high points of their heat. I'm sure Bimet would jump at the chance, just saying.

And Satan... Dear sweet Satan would let them cling to him all day and they could have sex and roughly or as gently as they want. He's there for them as long as they need him. If anyone else comes sniffing, he will kick them across Gehenna. MC doesn't need anyone else coming around right now when they're so vulnerable.

Meanwhile, poor Minhyeok has to deal with getting back all their use panties that smell like heat and slick. Man may go into a rut and have enough cum to fill more than one jar. I'm sure MC will need all that extra love during and after their heat.

#❖ 🦩 anon #love letters ❤️#talkin' whb #whb satan #whb mammon #whb leviathan #whb beelzebub #whb bael #whb naberius #whb glasyalabolas #whb minhyeok #cw omegaverse

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marchsfreakshow · 17 days

Text

A Little Piece Of Heaven [James Patrick March]

Angst / smut implications/ fluff all wrapped up in a confusing bow.

You were just a victim all those years ago, now a rotting ghost stuck in a boarded up hallway. Wasting your ghostly days away, until the wall, suddenly gets knocked down.

Absolutely NOT inspired by an a7x song /sarc. I was listening to it and just thought of something I could write with it. :)

Warnings: small reference to necro (it's in the song too don't worry) misgendering Liz a few times I'm sorry. James touching your wounds. Fem!reader.

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

How long had it been since you saw day?

Since you saw a nick of sleep?

The faint burst of hunger in your stomach explode?

It was all unwelcome. The last you remember? Sleeping. Peacefully in your hotel bed. It was, a bit scratchy, but any sleep was sleep. The early dawn reaching you, just for your breath to hitch. Eyes widened as a gentlemanly figure stood tall over your tired body. Who was this person? Wasn't your hotel room locked? Nerves as your heart raced, locking eyes with your perpetrator. "If I hadn't sworn my heart to my darling Elizabeth, why, I would've courted you instead." The man sighed happily, a silky, transcendental voice. Confusion ran over your furrowed eyebrows. A dry throat as an answer was being racked in your brain. But his voice, my that could've sung you to sleep again if you weren't careful.

Being in your nightgown for so long...it was cold. Everything, all the time was cold. Why on earth? But, somehow always in the presence of...Ruldoph Valentino, and Natacha Rombav. It was always intimidating. The way they stared at your stature, and how you held your arms over your chest always; it was hunger. They've tried. They had tried for the past.... something years. Always tried to take a bite, and have some food, but nothing appeared. It infuriating to the pair. Stuck in here with you, since...since...whenever! Time didn't have a meaning anymore. The three of you begged, squealed, screamed and wailed in front of the uninviting wall. Just needing someone to bring you out of it. It was only as the angry years rolled by you realised you were probably dead. A ghost silently and angrily roaming. Such a soul, unable to leave a place like The Hotel Cortez. Was that why you were so cold? Unable to feel anything if the two nicked at your arms?

Questions just ran through your head always. Who was Elizabeth? Was she as beautiful as you thought? The mystery man only spoke of her and, how she felt, as he walked you down this hallway. His big hand on the small of your back, and a sinning smile plastered on his face. A smile almost resembling the devil's wicked smile. How he felt, similar to the sinners being condemned to nothing but pain for the rest of their lives. Sure what he wanted was wrong, but he didn't find anyone else as pretty, and never brought harm to his wonderful wife. She was too gorgeous to touch.

One or two open rooms, so he brought you into a random room, setting your hazy self onto the lonely bed. "Such a beauty.." the man whispered. Blurry eyes found his face again, eyes almost made to look friendly, a thin moustache adding to his look. What a feeling stuck to your heart. A feeling of want and belonging with this man, but knowing he was a married man. You weren't a harlot! Certainly not a tired one. Despite the blurry face, finding you beautiful, it was always certain that he adored his wife so much more. The way he spoke of her, it was like Lucifer had found another fallen angel...one just as similar as him, desperate for some odd chaos in the perfect chaos of heaven. if only you could find the odd in perfect.

But no, you were laid lazily, blinking back any tiredness. He was kneeled by a small heater. Putting some fuel in it. Your-

"HEY! I've been calling you for the past few minutes." Natacha's voice bringing your head up to meet hers. The dust and grey from her, falling onto you. You just nodded and stood, going to follow her. Leaving the room where your corpse had rotted away, and into the lonely hallway once again.

Light.

Light? Was it real? Two men walked into the hall nervously, shining torches? Down the walls. They only took a few steps before the desperate couple practically devoured them. Leaving no blood to waste. Nearly 100 years of hunger would drive anyone insane, you understood that even if you were just a ghost. Watching them feed scared you, but you thanked the gods you were dead. You were dead. That realisation you made years ago only rang true now. Now you were stepping outside of that trapped hallway.

It was only wonder that filled your 'innocent' mind. Taking steps like a fawn for the first time. Shaky, nervous, and feeling like falling. It was just, so bright outside the hallway. Unnaturally bright. It hurt. Why did it hurt so much? Feeling like a zombie despite only being a walking soul. A shell of someone once living. A shell of an unwanted, unloved human, living lonely in the background of others.

Other souls were amongst you, it seemed. Plenty of them. They were all just as bad as the blood-sucking actors you loved so much when you were alive. All craving to cause such chaos. Cause a little bloodshed when bored of living in their own heads. These living halls and walls were, identical. It would've maddened you, if not for the fact you followed the room numbers. This was a hotel, wasn't it? It most likely still was. But every wallpaper, every carpet and door were identical to the 20s. Almost like they weren't allowed to change anything about it.

legs at the edge of the bed, hanging over a little. Was the man putting the heater on? How kind of him. But he didn't fully put it on. Once stood up straight, he looked back at you. Blurry eyes now looking up at him normally. No ounce of softening in his heart. His eyes hardening on your torso. Blush settling on your face. This was absolutely wrong. However, there was an idea that running wasn't your best idea right now. Whatever was about to happen. Then, a small unsheathing. Heart rate quickening as the silver metal met your eyes. That was a knife. A knife?! No, no no...

The man noticed your eyes, your heartbeat, and gave a sadistic little chuckle. What on earth was he planning? Whatever you thought was pushed away as the cold metal pressed against your neck. The feeling made you shiver, your instinct to fight him large. The instinct to give him and let him murder you; larger. Your life felt useless, this would be the perfect way to go. Despite that, you placed a hand over his, to push him away. Such worked hands, such scars. A finger ran over his knuckles, without notice. But he raised an eyebrow at you, almost disgustingly taking your hand off his and placing it back on your chest. What had gotten into you? Whore... It made mystery man cut you quicker. Your chest, then your neck.

Death. It consumed you quick. Sweet, dark warmth, eating you. It wasn't like you expected. No purgatory, deciding heaven or hell. No. A few minutes of nothing before your eyes awoke to a scene you never thought you'd see. This mystery man, experimenting with your body. Using the heater against your, tempting thighs to warm you up. What would this Elizabeth think?! Nothing else crossed you, as you stood quietly, attempting to not pay attention to whatever it was he was doing.

"You seem new, but old at the same time." A person's voice rang out. It stopped you in your steps and looking up, you were met with a woman? He looked like a woman and spoke effeminately. He must have been a transvestite or something.

In light of your manners returning to you, you cleared your throat, but the voice that came out was still scratchy and throaty. "um. I have been in a hallway, the wall, has been destroyed." Looking down at yourself, you dusted down your nightgown. Then you remembered you were in your nightgown. How embarrassing...the worst thing you could have died in!

The person didn't respond, and instead, you heard his heels click as he walked behind you, probably towards where you had come from. Gulping nervously, you looked and then just swished your head away, carrying on. Now with the embarrassing fact that everyone will see you in your sleeping gown. Something meant for only you. Walking seemed fun now though. You weren't sure about the year, but everything truly was the same.

Ah, an elevator. Just waiting after you pressed the up button, and stepping into it. Oh, what floor were you going to? Uh, this one! You randomly pressed a floor button out of nerves, accepting that you would just get to explore for ages, meeting other freaks and surprises around. It was still such an interesting hotel, and there must have been some changes right? Well, you exited the elevator and started to walk. Walking this direction, this way, over here instead. Muffled noises went past you. Talking, screaming, moaning. Such a lively hotel.

Oh. An open door. 64 the number plate read. Even if the door was open, you knocked and heard a "come in." The voice was so familiar to you. But you couldn't place it. Like a faint memory, you could blurrily place together. It was smooth, sweet and transcendental. You stepped through your cloud of thoughts into the room and looked around.

"I truly am sorry for my appearance, I um, I'm unaware of this place and don't have any other clothes on me." You admitted sheepishly, eyes meeting the man's back. That suit. It was... something else about it. The voice, this, pinned suit, why was it so close but distant to your memory?

As soon as you spoke, the man spun on his heel, and almost dropped his drink when his eyes met yours. Oh. Oh! This was...your murderer. No. It couldn't've been. He would've died years and years ago. But, my he looked so similar to the one who took your last breath. "...you got out?" That was all he said. Shakily, you nodded and stepped back, barefoot on the uncomfortable frame of the door. The way he met your eyes after roaming your body, it was almost animalistic. An urge he'd never have again if he lost you.

Both of you snapped and you ran. You ran through the hallways. Mystery man chasing you slowly. But with every long step he took, and every look back, he seemed closer and closer. How was this real? No, dreaming. The both of you circled back to room 64. Rushing in, you shut the door and slammed yourself into the bathroom. Mystery man was just as fast. Entering the room a few minutes later with an almost sadistic chuckle. Oh, you shouldn't be feeling this pit of warmth right now. What was wrong with you? This chase, still unknowing of his name after this long... "You cannot hide for long my bird. I know you have questions."

It was true. Your brain was rattled with questions. Who was he? Why did he kill you? Why were you feeling this pit at his laugh? Why was he so- Absolutely not. He was your murderer. When did he die? So silent minutes passed quickly before you opened the door with a deep inhale and exhale.

Nervous eyes meeting dead ones. Practically soulless despite his soul standing in front of yours. He smiled a fake smile at you, taking your hand like a gentleman. Leading you to a chair and sitting you in it, placing a small drink of whiskey in front of you. "Ask me my bird."

"Who are you." It was a statement more than a question, but it was the one looming at the forefront.

"James Patrick March. I built this hotel, I ghost it." Your eyes flickered with a burn. Nearly all your questions were answered already. He was the creator of this building, it was something you had heard of, but you didn't take too much interest.

"Okay. Well then..who was Elizabeth?" Your heart tugged at the question. Always compared to such a lady before your death. A useful death, but with a comparison, you had to know. But, he told you. Everything. James told you every single little detail. She was still here but didn't care for him. A little bit of relief washed over you. A bit. Whatever this feeling was in your...stomach? was, it was annoying, and you despised it. Pushing it down with the mention that he still cares for her. Meeting with her every month for dinner, catering to any want to ask she asks of her. A pathetic puppy whining at its master's leg for some attention. James was so...proper...and neutral.

"...if that's the case, why did you say that if you weren't courting her, you would court me instead? All those years ago." He hasn't thought about your death in years. He's murdered dozens as time went on and on. He's experimented, failed some and won others. You remembered his words to you?

"You are indeed beautiful bird, and I would have. At that time, I loved The Countess dearly. I still do. She is my one. While I have not had any idea to court anyone else within the time of our agreement, it is occasionally a lingering thought." That raised more questions. More interrogating, what did he mean by that? Wouldn't she also have died plenty of years ago? Your eyes watched the table in front of you as you scanned your mind for plenty of reasons and questions.

"is...is she like the two that were trapped with me?" Eventually, you spoke again, hands clasped together and nerves boiling over.

Words merged together as the both of you spoke about everything and nothing. So, vampires were real. Technically...what an odd time for you to be un-living in. At least you would not be a victim. Dead for almost a century, and not the prettiest ghost here. The more modern deaths were certainly beautiful, knowing it, and flaunting it so happily. Just to murder...

Murder.

The word rang through your head as James talked about your death. About why he used your rotting body. About why he had that heater between those intimate thighs of yours always. He needed a body to experiment with. One he couldn't just dare put more slashes on. An open neck and open chest was good enough. You were bewildered. Dumbfounded and confused as he explained his reasoning. Simply because he could. He murdered and used bodies simply because he could. How deranged.

Oh. There was that pit again. Damnit. Whatever it is, you needed to be rid of it. Rubbing the part of your body where your womb was, you stared at the undrunk whiskey hard. Furrowed eyebrows and unmoving eyes. The murderer took notice and leaned towards you. "Are you feeling okay my dear?" His dead breath so close to you. Why, oh why was this pit in your womb so obvious to you? He killed you! Obviously, no feelings should be felt for him apart from hatred. Was it hatred in your womb? No. James probably knew what you were feeling and wanted to tease you with it.

Tease you? But of course. Such an untouched woman was easy to please and make fun of. A simple kiss on your cheek and a hand lingering on your jaw. The pit, it felt like it had just spilled. Like it had spilt and flowed from your womb to the chair you were sat on. Even more embarrassing than being in your nightgown only. You wouldn't mention it. You couldn't. You weren't shameless, and he was a gentleman. Still a gentleman even though his words said otherwise.

It was only when you stared blankly up at the ceiling and James had left the room that you realised what happened. Left on the bed, with the remembrance of those scratchy, desperately uncomfortable bed sheets. But this time you felt frozen, and...naked. Every single little fibre of the duvet on your skin, and feeling it move on top of you when you adjusted yourself. Still as uncomfortable as it was those years ago. Your feet met the ground as you sat up, and picked up the nightgown again. What a thing to die in... something meant for only you. Now everyone you would pass would see it, and judge you harshly.

It was put back on as soon as you stood. The pit in your womb just felt better once James finished. Like you just needed him to, make you feel warm despite the both of you being cold always. He walked in and was holding up some clothes. "My dear I have brought you a dress. You do not need to wear that anymore." The folded fabric was spread out on the bed, and it was a simple black one, floor length and full sleeves down to the wrist. Such a gorgeous dress, unsure of wether or not it would even fit you.

After just looking at James with worry in your eyes, he sighed softly and took your nightgown off you again, thumbs grazing the wound under your breasts. It was grotesque, but god it was such a sweet feeling on his fingers. Feeling his work, and admiring it. Romantic touches, with nothing but admiration for his murder behind it. It was like he was obsessed with it, unable to hide how much he loved his kill. He gave the same touches to your neck. Hearing the small whimpers leaving you as his fingers traced the edge of your neck. The way you were touched wasn't like anything before. Intimate and dangerous parts of you explored more than you were explored a few minutes ago. "So sweet.." He sighed quietly, before slipping the dress on you.

A perfect fit, and James admired it. He looked at you like you were...well like you were The Countess. Being stared at nicely was weird, but something you figured you had to get used to. He had claimed you, not like you knew that though. Such a beautiful victim, at the time unclaimable. Now as claimable as any other person in the god-forsaken hotel you were stuck in.

"you will be a beautiful accessory to murder my darling."

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tag: @babygorewhore @taintandviolent @slvt4jamesmarch @slutforgarlogan @fear-is-truth / @coentinim @bluerthanvelvet444 @nahoyasboyfriend @carniv0reev @yandereunsolved / @briaroftheroses @doll3tt33

#ahs #evan peters #american horror story #james patrick march #james march #james march x reader #james march x you #james patrick march x reader #james patrick march x you #jpm #jpm x reader #jpm x you #ahs hotel #American horror story hotel #ahs imagine #james march imagine #jpm imagine #Spotify

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lizaluvsthis · 20 days

Text

Smg4: smg4 doesn't meme for 1 second

Mostly Gay Boys talk / and well lil bit of crew talk

SPOILER ALERT!

The crew convinced three to take four in for a therapy session. Tho that didnt solve his problems on complete brain rot with all of the memes.

Three did try his best to make him stay a bit focused on the topic they were meant to discuss with four's own meme problems.

And that didn't work-

- after smg4 was sent to meme rehab -

Everyone in the crew were sitting in the gaming room watching some tv, they were seen bored as ever without smg4.

Even just a small glimpse with each memeber entirely they've missed smg4 as well. He was their friend, their leader.

Shroomy came in with the mention of "among us" everyone- as in EVERYONE looked at where smg4 is supposed to be sitting at- reminded them the times when he would laugh at couple of meme jokes.

It is pretty much saddened by the crew how worse it could be in a day without smg4 is by at their side could make them feel miserable.

Then Meggy mentioned about missing smg4...

You know who responded to that?

Three himself...

"Yeah...like, if... er... smg4's stupid humor... like actually... made our lives more exciting...and we didn't like... realize it or something?"

"We're going over to that facility... to get SMG4 back!"

Smg3 was the one who knocked the door, he wanted him to come back. Even the crew also needs smg4 back because he wasn't just any other leader. He was already part of them as well.

They could all tell so, even for smg3 too.

Smg3's character development has taken him way more better to where he'd come far off being the evil villain he used to be before then coming to how much important he chose his own path.

"Hi, how are you" gave them the shock on their faces. Like they felt it was already too late to take back the treatment he was given while he was away.

"Woah smg4! Look at the phone! Wow, sk---di! Yeah you like this! Wooh! Sk---di t--l-t! Hehe. Stinky, woaaaaahh!" ★(I had to censor this because I hate reading nor hearing [REDACTED])

Smg3 attempted to try and brighten out his mood. Gave it a chance who mightve thought would work, giving him those meme moments that definitely would make him laugh.

But three didnt even know he wasnt even sure- if he even liked sk---di t--l-t.

Last time we know is that four almost lost his sh-t during that one cintent farm episode, he cringed to the part of mentioning this kind of brain rot.

But now that his mind is not any other that he'd act at all, smg4 became the normal. The person he wasnt supposed to be. Who SHOULDNT be.

"What is... a meme..."

Everyone didnt want to lose smg4's senses, they didnt want his own person to disappear SO. they went inside the lab to get back his uhh... meme... thing-

Then- yeah he did-

Some of their eyes were relaxed but still worrying for him, while tari and smg3's eyes were a bit widened in shock. (Three was more widened than tari btw)

This indicates that three may have grew tons of roots being there for smg4 as well. That their friendship they both have planted is far beyond than just "sticking" to the sides.

Now that Four is back in his senses, everyone joined in including smg3 to do the... t pose? Whatever it's called.

Three was so happy- to finally get him back- speaking of having the role as a tritagonist, he really mustve took way more care and tells how important he already is to him. Even as a friend.

Honestly the hosts here who've completely have done much was Meggy and Three. Well- mostly three since he'd been convincing the crew to not give up or regret the choices made.

He LITERALLY told them that they need to get him BACK.

And everyone did understood.

So- tell me- PLEASE THEY BOTH HAVE TO BE CANON ALREADY THERE IS JUST NO WAY YOU'RE MISSING A 'HOMIE' FOR THAT-

Mark my words they have to be- (if they dont become canon in wotfi 2024 i will cry and die)

There is literally no way you guys look at each other like that. Stare for atleast SIX MORE SECONDS. (/referring to Puzzlevision movie when FOUR HAD BEEN STARING AT THREE)

and then caring for one another so emotionally like- mate- THATS FRUITY ALREADY- ENOUGH- WITH THE "FRIENDS" WHERE IS THE "BOY" AND "FRIEND"??????

I cant- I cannot- thats how badly they both need each other and slow burn is just- literally... uuuuuurugghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

They both mightve had the longest slowburn i have EVER seen in the sun and moon shipping history/silly

This mostly takes alot of time (judging by like lumity or catradora)

But i wouldnt mind with this also- its- well- kind of almost there but not yet...?

#lizafixates #smg4 #smg34 #smg3 #smg4 smg3 #smg4 crew

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luffyrose · 1 year

Text

Alien or Ghost?

I am once again offering random ideas that pop into my brain. As you can tell, the brain rot is strong for DC x DP.

Anyway, let's hop right into the idea for today!

~~~~~~

Halfas' as much as they share biology with ghosts, who in their own sense are a new species, are considered alien. Of course, not because they have human and ghostly abilities, but because Halfas WERE aliens. The origin of their race had been so uncertain, but seeing that they held a small planet close to Krypton, they were most definitely a species of Alien. They could hop between dimensions, though it seemed that this one and this planet was their home. No matter who left, they always returned. So when one day they didn't, it was believed the species was now extinct, seeing as they didn't know that Halfa have two ways of being "born".

Those who knew the most were the Kryptonians, being close allies to the friendly but powerful race. With Krypton destroyed, the only information that survived was that of a few estranged alien species' knowledge and documents in the Fortress of Solitude. Seeing as it wasn't important, being a deceased race and all, Superman paid his respects to the race but didn't spend much time looking over the details of the species. All he really maintained was their similar biology to beings referred to as Ghosts, and the ability to transform. It was also noted that Halfa, as strong as they were, developed powers in times of need or panic. Meaning the stronger the person, the worse they've had to protect themselves or others from.

Now, if he'd read a little more, he would have learned about how Halfa's had said before how, while they can have children, not every Halfa was born as Halfa's, it was something that made them special and made them care for one another so deeply. It was also why true Halfa were usually aligned to protect whatever it deemed family.

So when a group of young teens, led by Boy Wonder himself on a wayward mission, find a horribly ill-looking teen and are terrified. It does not help that the clothes he wore were tattered and through them, the team could see rushed and careless stitches. Nor did it make anything better that this mission was in a lab. A much too nice lab for supposedly illegal activity. And now the group knew why. So with chaos and teenage rage at seeing someone so young and so hurt, they absolutely destroy the lab in an attempt to get the other out. It goes as well as it can, but hey, they're out! Scolded by Batman, but out! And they took the kid!

The team is determined to help their unofficial new teammate, you could pry him from their cold dead hands this was almost exactly like how they got Conner and that had ended wonderfully- for the most part. Conner himself was very protective of the young boy, and Danny accepted that pretty quickly. It made most of them more than sure that he'd had a family, but none of them wanted to ask.

When Wally inevitably did, Danny physically freezes, sudden realizations hitting him like a truck. Danny's family was gone...for the most part. Jazz had been away for something, but his house had been attacked by the GIW, leaving Danny to expose himself to his parents before they tried to defend him. It didn't work. So the three Fentons were claimed dead, the house blown to pieces with nothing to find. Except, only his parents were actually gone. Sam and Tucker had no idea what had happened, Jazz probably knew he was alive...but that didn't make the situation much better, and Dani...she had been elsewhere, but surely she'd known by now.

Dan.

That was a much worse realization. Dan had been reformed after a long time out and very much taken an older brother role, Conner reminded him of that even if subconsciously, either way, he was the King of the Infinite Realms and he'd been missing. For months. Dan was more than definitely ready to tear the human realm apart.

With a tense chuckle, Danny said he was so dead when his siblings found him but never elaborated. They could tell it wasn't an actual danger to the boy, but it made the team curious. Either way, not his problem for now, so Danny just continues to stay with the YJL.

Eventually, Danny ends up sneaking with them to help on a mission and when the team is in danger, he snaps and near destroys everything around them, save his teammates, in a fit of rage. It's then that the JL realize their newest addition may be a bit strong for his age and control. So they plan to meet him. Lucky for Danny, Robin and Wally are allowed to come with!

The meeting starts with a lot of the JL, minus a well-known blue boy scout, he'd been busy working things out with Conner, his Ma had learned of the boy and really helped him figure out his issues(there was definitely a lot of yelling, and request to meet her grandson). Things are going alright, even with the boy's clear nervousness at seeing so many people. It's when Superman himself arrives that he freezes completely, staring at the boy in front of him as everything in his body screams this is another Alien. He doesn't quite know why, but the only non-martian alien who could possibly look this human that he knew of was meant to be extinct. Seeing how Martian Manhunter hadn't mentioned anything about the boy being possibly Martian, Supes was rightfully freaking out.

Superman, utterly confused and slightly happy: YOU'RE A HALFA

Danny, surprised and terrified out of his mind that he's been outed so easily: UHHH-

Obviously, the right thing to do in a panic? RUN AWAY. So off Danny goes, fleeing as if his life depends on it. I mean, who can blame him? In Superman's eyes, this is the last known being of his species, unless they were in hiding, and to Danny, this man just stated to a room full of possible enemies if he ever oversteps a boundary exactly what he is. Not to mention the whole Halfa hunted like sport when Pariah Dark was alive stuff he'd learned from Clockwork at some point.

His recent recklessness gave quite a few people, good and bad, a hint of his location. A mix of joy, worry, and anger is present from all sources alike.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dcmultiverse #dc comics #danny phantom #danny fenton #ghost king danny #young justice #justice league #superman #dc robin #dick grayson #wally west #kid flash #conner kent #superboy #dani fenton #dan phantom #jazz fenton #tucker foley #sam manson #Vlad isn't actually a halfa #he's some weird type of revenant but his sure anger at being turned ghost made him believe he wasn't fully one #and his various deception abilities only helped his own delusion #Dan is a very overprotective big brother though and he wants his little brother and he wants him now #Dani also wants her big brother right now #Jazz is only holding herself together because both other Halfa are very certain he is alive though they don't know his condition #or location #so they are very happy his heroic dumbass shines through and he ends up on some news #Tucker had already been hacking as many places as he can to find him once the news aired

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hyunsvngs · 3 months

Note

Back at it again with my period hormones brain rot of the day (at 6:30 am ofc). Did it take me 40 minutes to write this? Yeah. Did I close at work last night and I'm supposed to wake up in an hour and a half to open today? Also yeah. Do I care? Fuuuuuuuck no. I wouldn't have been able to sleep without writing this out.

Once again, I am not sorry about the length 😌 enjoy ❤️❤️

Hear me out... daddy Channie *and* daddy Lee know 🫠

They're just always fighting over who gets what hole but still love taking you however you'll let them. Till they decide to come up with a plan

They've already made you cum 3 times so far but ofc they're still not done with you yet. And in all honesty? You literally never wanna stop anyways. They just always take such good care of you and prioritize you over themselves to the point that sometimes you have to literally beg them to cum otherwise you know that they'll just ignore their own needs because you're already more than satisfied and they just wanna cuddle up to their sweet sleepy baby.

"kitten. I need you to listen to me, okay? Daddy and I are gonna make you feel real good but it's gonna be a bit of a stretch. I know you can do it, so just sit there and let us take care of you, okay? You trust us right?" Lee know says, gently rubbing your sides to try to ground you and get you to focus a bit better.

And of course you trust them. How could you not? They've never failed to make you feel good. They've never hurt you. They've never ignored your safeword or failed to stop if you ever said the color red. So of course you answer with a small nod and wait for instructions.

"Angel, I want you to lay on me and get comfy, okay? You don't gotta do anything, just get comfy on me" Channie says, petting your hair, waiting for you to roll over on top of him.

You do as he says and he plants a few kisses right on your temple while holding you with one arm. He takes his other hand and guides himself into you with so much ease due to you cumming 3 times already and still getting wet over how soft they are with you despite knowing how possessive they both were. (After all who doesn't love being taken care of so sweetly? That shit turns me on so much 🥴)

After cockwarming Channie for a couple minutes, you hear the familiar pop of the lube bottle you guys just keep on the night stand and you turn your head to lay on channies chest and look back and see Lee know coating himself in a healthy layer of it. More than you've ever seen him use, and you regularly have anal sex with him and it's even more that what he uses for that. But Lee know just wants to make sure its as easy and comfortable as possible, especially without telling you their idea first.

"Again, Kitten, This is gonna be a big stretch, okay? Think you can do it for me, baby?" He asks. Again, you nod and give him a little smile then get comfy on Channie once again.

All of a sudden, you feel Lee Know's lubed fingers come up to rub the underside of channies cock that's comfortably sitting inside you. And only then do you realize what he meant by "big stretch."

He slowly lets 2 fingers slip inside you along with channies cock, and the pressure already feels so good that it has you whimpering into channies neck while he's sitting there holding you closer to his chest while telling you how good you're already taking it.

Lee know slowly works on opening you up more than you ever have been while Channie has been ever so slowly pumping in and out of you to make things a little easier.

"Kitten, I need you to tell me one more time that you're okay with this. It's something we've never done before and we don't have to do it if you dont want to." He says one final time, always wanting to make sure you're okay.

"Wan it daddy.. want both of you inside me. Fingers feel so good.. wan more..please?" You beg him. And the way their cocks simultaneously twitch at your sweet voice.

"Shhh, angel love, you don't gotta beg. We'll always give our princess what they want" Channie says, nuzzling into your neck to plant a sweet kiss.

Lee know wasn't kidding when he said it would be a big stretch. His fingers felt amazing but you felt like you were tearing in half when he put just the tip in. You loved it though. Neither one of them was small by any means but they were both big enough that it was already a stretch no matter where you took them.

Channie starts moving again, slowly, trying to distract from the slight sting he knows you're feeling as Lee know slowly inches his way fully inside. All you hear from him is little "fuck"'s whispered here and there.

You look back to see Lee know with his eyes shut, head thrown back, and lip caught between his perfect bunny teeth. In all honesty, it's so tight that he could have came on the spot the second he put the tip in. But he really wanted to do this so he had to focus really hard so that he could follow through with his plan.

Finally he's all the way in and the pressure is immaculate. Both of their cocks are pressing on all the right places and that has you clenching around them both.

Experimentally, Lee know pulls almost all the way out and then shoves himself back in and that has you moaning and whimpering into channies chest. He takes that as his all clear to pick up his pace while Channie keeps a slow and steady rhythm against him.

Soon enough, you're more than used to the stretch and the boys are just so lost in grinding themself against each other while also inside you, so warm, tight, and wet.

With the alternating thrusts hitting your cervix so perfectly and the cute little grunts coming from the men you're sandwiched in between, you cum for a 4th and final time, gushing around both men with the cutest little moans and whimpers.

Channie is the next to follow, surprised he even held out that long with all the cockwarming and gentle thrusts he had going on while Lee know was prepping you. And Lee know came as well pretty quickly after that, completely lost in how wet it all was with the combination of all of you guys' cum and feeling chan twitching inside you still.

Chan was the first to pull out due to the oversensitivity and Lee know pulled out after, immediately running to get a couple warm rags to clean everyone up while also starting a bath for you all, while you and Channie just laid there cuddling.

AHHHHHHHHHH fuck I need both of them in me so bad rn 🥴 I'm so horny it's not even funny. My dildo isn't enough 🫠 I feel like a fucking cat in heat rn

woahh WOAHHHH JEEZ!! !THIS IS SEXY I LOVE DP IN ONE HOLE KDJDKGS

#juno’s asks ♡#user: ardef38 #asks: minchan

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genshinemblem564 · 9 months

Text

Writing Prompts

Might use these, might not. Either way, here you go.

___________________________________________

• Isekai'd reader (normal or sagau) who doesn't trust authority figures because of the abuse of power from both police and politicians.

Diluc: I have to ask. Why do you only trust the vision bearers in the knights.

(Y/N): It might be because the people who were supposed to protect us back home constantly abused their power until my trust in any authority figure deteriorated to the point that I can't trust them unless I know them on a personal basis.

Diluc: Do you, um, want a drink?

(Y/N)(strained voice): That sounds lovely.

• Sagau imposter au Feral reader. The reader has been running and hiding for so long that they don't talk, just grunt and scream (roar). If anyone tries to approach them after the hunt, they start growling and trembling, they're terrified. It's not that they can't talk, they just don't see the point in it if no one listens.

• Sagau post imposter au, a reader who is self isolating, not out of hatred, but fear, technically. I don't know how else to describe it. Reader can forgive them easily, but no matter how much they want things to go back to normal, healing takes time.

• Morbid summoner. They've learned to keep these thoughts to themself, but everyone can still see their face contort in discomfort at their own thoughts.

Cordelia: I wonder. Is there any feeling worse than unrequited love?

Summoner starts slowly sinking to their knees and leaning against a wall.

Summoner: (muffled screams)

• Summoner who is just over this crap. Any villains who start monologuing, unless the goal is to buy time, will be met with a swift (dominant hand) hook.

• Sagau reader whose definition of a personal question is different from everyone else's. They are a bit too comfortable when discussing their body and "preferences". Matters of the heart, however, are what flusters them. This leads to many different scenarios. If the acolytes write fanfictions about them in your au, Miko, as the only one I can imagine being brazen enough, asks several of these types of questions with a sly grin as she imagines all of the new material she has to work with. It also leads to some awkward moments when their mouth moves faster than their brain.

Kaveh: The drapes in this design can NOT match the carpets.

(Y/N): Why not? Mine do.

Kaveh: Well, that's your choice, but for the design I'm going for....

As Kaveh continues, Cyno looks over to see you cringing. This leaves him confused for a moment before realization strikes, leading him to spit out his drink and begin howling with laughter.

___________________________________________

The reason some of these have writing along with them is simply because some of these rotted my brain more than others. Anyway, if you want to use these, feel free. I hope you like these.

Don't ask me what Kaveh is going for in his design, I didn't think that far, I just thought it was funny

#genshin impact #sagau #fire emblem heroes #feh #imposter au

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dualityvn · 10 days

Note

Fucking. Sorry I'm just so insane about these guys and the fact I found a really cool Yandere vn with the option to go Yandere yourself (Which?? The fact the NSFW in the demo is in the bad ends is??? So fucking cool to me??? Like. Genuinely bro??? God that's so fucking cool) And the fact you will be adding an ending where you can have both of them has my entire heart </3 I don't like having to choose and fuck just finding a poly yandere vn is so cool to me even if in only one ending I love these two sm I've only had them for a few days but I would kill and die for them. Fuck. This is everything I've ever wanted in life nothing gets better than this

2 things in one ask I guess just to spill my thoughts at you if you're cool with that, autistic brain rot goes crazy you've received weirder asks I'm sure

1. Scenario like. Where somehow MC doesn't snap initially after the waitress gives Keith her number but comes close to it and after seeing the same waitress maybe mistreat Tenebris or smth just goes apeshit, maybe tortures them as a show for the two of them as a treat </3 Or records it to give later as like a birthday present or smth when the wound is less sensitive. Listen I don't get enough poly yandere content so i'm latching on to wanting to date both of these men we can have more wholesome things later

2. How wouwd thewse two weact to uwuspeak on a scawe of unphased to howwified

Aaaaa, your excitement makes me very happy, anon!!! I do think we need more poly content in dating sims. And yes yes, the MC gets to act yan all throughout the game, if the player wishes!

As for your scenarios, it's definitely better to give them a recording of it. Their reactions can honestly vary. If it comes out of nowhere and they've had no knowledge of you being capable of such things prior, they're both going to be very shocked. I can't go into too much detail, because I don't wanna spoil things.

And for the second one, Tenebris would raise an eyebrow and ask if you've hurt your tongue.

Keith would find it mildly amusing if you do it for a short time and sort of odd if you do it all the time.

#duality game #duality keith #duality tenebris

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syoddeye · 2 months

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14. Assign a fashion aesthetic to this character.

because i can't be Normal, here are 11 mini moodboards + blurbs lmao. thank you canva. some of the photos are low res, that's my b.

disclaimer: this is clearly for fun. i don't want to hear about how wrong i am lol.

Price: Maybe this is because the strong visuals from Ursa Major by @the-californicationist is rotting my brain (affectionate), but my favorite dude likes workwear and high quality clothing. I don't think he prioritizes fashion, but at the same time, he puts on Hard Pants whenever he leaves the house because you never know who he might meet! (You. At the store. Where he gets that pesky can of whatever off the top shelf for you.) Need to commission an artist to draw him as Tom Selleck.

Rudy: Inspired by Bayardo. Rudy likes moto style, worn-in/lived-in clothing, and cleans up real nice. I could see him gravitating more color and knit button downs/polo shirts. I didn't include much western/cowboy stuff, but I imagine Alejandro's aesthetic rubbing off on Rudy since they've known each other for decades.

Ghost: To no one's surprise, his favorite color is black. But, he wouldn't wear clothes that draw even more attention. He's already a big fella, I just don't see him trying to stand out on purpose. He favors darker neutrals, layers, regular cloth or paper face masks, and workwear. Pretty plain aesthetic. Just a Guy™.

Kate: "Sy, that's a lot of Gillian Anderson." AND? What about it? Anyway, I think younger!Kate saw If These Walls Could Talk 2 and emulated Amy's (Chloë Sevigny) style for a number of years. I think with her work and maturation of style, her style is more utilitarian/streamlined, but when she dresses up, ooh baby. Some of Maya Erskine's outfits in the new Mr. and Mrs. Smith show also scream Kate to me. Obviously we have a vest outfit here, because if there is one thing lesbians love, it's utility. /jk

Nik: Similar to Price in that he values clothes that can hold up under normal-to-heavy use. Every outfit does have to highlight a chain. My guy is probably sitting on a small mountain of money, too, but the clothes he picks for himself are unlabeled.

Ale: He's a smooth operator 🎶 No, but to me he's like Soap - Alejandro knows he's good-looking. He has the range and the confidence to pull off most anything. I think similar to Rudy, I imagine him leaning more towards moto aesthetics, with more cowboy/western vibes. Not afraid of color. Lest we forget, he owns a ranch, so throw in workwear, too. Tucked in shirts, belt buckles. Another minor point of inspo is Donald Glover from Mr. and Mrs. Smith.

Gaz: It's coincidence two photos contains glasses BUT I think in my dream world, Gaz dresses the way Elliot Knight's stylist dresses him. Which is to say wonderfully. Gaz tends toward neutrals, pieces that are easy to layer, and can fit into more than one look. He's probably somewhat up on fashion and style, not obsessed, but aware of what he looks good in. Not afraid to chat up a sales associate for help.

Soap: He knows he's nice to look at. He knows his arms are drool-worthy. The moment the weather's pleasant enough, he's sleeveless. I also know he probably dgaf about fashion but let's feed my delusions. Streetwear, athleisure - He's got to be able to move freely, feel comfortable, and show off his build.

Farah: Ignore the bags lol. If anything, she's carrying something crossbody and functional. Anyway, Farah's a leader and has been from too young of an age. I think this translates to how she carries herself and what she wears, yeah? I think she aligns with Soap+Gaz+Ale in the Can Wear Anything group. My soft as fuck HC is that Price gave her a few band shirts at some point in time.

Alex: Generally aware of what he looks good in. He relies on his more fashion inclined friends and loved ones to send him ideas or buy him clothes outright because he does not go out of his way to shop. He constantly wears that a single jacket he got One compliment on it six years ago. Like Ghost, he's Just a Guy™. A very handsome one.

Valeria: She's a business woman, right? 👀 Valeria's aesthetic is a mixture of all black everything/glam/utilitarian but make it fashion. In my deepest of dreams, her fashion style is more fluid, and she eats up everything she wears. Again, kind of falling into the idea that confidence makes any style possible on her.

character ask game questions here!

#i made these between meetings on mobile so let's be nice about formatting #sy asks #cod aesthetics #moodboards #john price #rodolfo rudy parra #rudy parra #simon ghost riley #kate laswell #kate laswell cod #cod nikolai #nikolai cod #alejandro vargas #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #farah karim #alex keller #valeria garza #femalefemur

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heartfullofleeches · 10 months

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Do it!! We love your ideas chief, that’s why we’re here!

Also ghoul reader is hot as fuck

[Light body horror. Angst]

Well- two important factors about ghoul reader are both their body and mind deteriorate over time, but can be rebuilt to full structure by eating human meat/brain healthy meals.

This led me to think of a "healer" ghoul reader who can sorta transfer/reconstruct the healthy cells to others and heal people that way. Lose a kidney? Ghoul Reader can create a new one and negate most side effects by eating some ground beef left in the freezer. A personal sacrifice of their flesh for another being.

Given the nature of their healing properties, Ghoul Reader is extremely caring and always puts others before themself. They make friends with the wrong person- someone who hardly cares about their well-being and uses Reader for their personal gain. They had been scarred horribly by mistakes they'd already made and without them even asking Reader starts to slowly heal them. Their body needs more work than reader's can take, but they just write the ghoul off as lazy and trying to keep them around. Reader's body mass continues to shrink no matter how much they eat. It hurts them to put so much strain on their body... it hurts so much... but they still try. They still keep that "friend" in their heart and notebooks so they'll never forget them when their memory blanks. They care about their friend. They love them. They want them to be okay and love themself for who they are-

But they never knew how truly rotten that person was - inside and out.

"Finally... All those horrid scars were a damper on my social life. I'm even more beautiful than I was then. That being said, I can't be seen around something like you. It was fun."

That isn't what friends are supposed to say.. After all they did for them... Gone without even saying goodbye. That was the ghouls first time being betrayed to such caliber- and it crushed them. They wouldn't feel this pain if they were just another mindless creature, but they were proud of the person they'd become. The "normal" human being who walked around same as everyone else. They were just like them... only rotting... maybe that person wasn't so wrong to leave them behind...

Ghoul Reader shuts off from the outside world after that. They stick to their routine as it's all they've ever known, but they've lost that rosy view of the world. Is it worth making friends anymore? What's the point of trying if they'll just be abandoned again? They were more human than the people around them. Unlike them - they felt pain. They wanted to forget it all - so they did. Most of it at least.

While out one night reader notices a musky scent in the air. So faint only their nose would catch it. They follow the trail to a body lying behind some dumpsters - stab wounds having torn deep holes through their vital organs. Their pulse was weak - fading. Despite all the pain they've been dealt, Ghoul couldn't let someone die for another's mistake. They fixed up the near corpse and waited for them to wake up so they couldn't get home safety.

"Ugh....I'm still alive....lame...who the fuck are you?.."

Ghoul Reader explains everything that lead up to the encounter and their healing capabilities.

"Eh....with how my nights gone - I'll believe anything at this point. Thanks for the help, bud."

It was nothing. Ghoul Reader gets up to leave.

"Aye! Where ya going? You save people's lives on the regular and expect nothing back? Lemme treat you to dinner. Know a good spot close by and I still have the wallet I was gutted over. Let's get going already!"

Reader learns more about their new acquaintance. A petty thief trying to get on the right track in life. They spun some wild story about seeing a guy dropping his wallet and them trying to return it with the guy flying off the rails and accusing them of stealing it. The details were spotty, but Reader nodded along to every word. They needed a place to stay for the night as their home was too far to trek back too at that hour. They give Reader the rest of the cash in the wallet in exchange for their couch and they become the first real friend Reader makes.

Everything Reader gave they always tried to give back double. The near death experience gave them a new outlook on life. It was something to be cherished and not thrown away so easily as they had in the past. They wanted to share that new view with their only friend. Reader was a better companion than people they'd know their entire life. A little bitey when they got hungry, but everyone gets a little cranky when they're starving.

The friend gets a call over. Reader had skipped breakfast and wasn't sticking to their usual diet. They sat alone, unable to move and succumbing to the painful cramps of hunger. They begged their friend to bring them meat from the store, but their friend wanted to end their suffering as quickly as they could. They pulled out their trusty switchblade, embedding its teeth in their pinky finger. Ghoul Reader tries to stop them.

"Y/n, you saved my life. It's as much yours as it is mine. I'd give anything to properly replay you, but I'll never be able to and I don't mind living with that debt on my shoulders if it means we're together. This is the least I can do for you- so shut up and eat my damn finger."

A week after Reader tries them their finger back there's a knock on the door. Their friend refused treatment seeing it as a marker of their loyality to reader. They make sure reader is well fed at all times. A face reader has seen before stands behind the door. Some model they've seen on billboards and flyers. What could someone like that with them?

"Y/n. I know you probably don't want to see me after what I've done, but I need your help. I got into an accident after a few drinks last week. Nothing serious before you ask, but I've got these bruises and I have an important party to attend this Saturday. I'll allow you to be my plus one if that fixes things."

....

"I'll be out with a friend Saturday, but thank you. I can still fix you, but if you don't mind me asking - how do you know my name?"

Reader leads them to their couch and heals their spotty face all while the stranger is left bewildered. They're acting like nothing happened. Why are they acting like nothing happened? Who was this new friend and who the hell was that standing by their bedroom door?

"Are you seriously going to play this game?"

"What do you mean?"

"Pretending like you don't know who I am. That's harsh even with everything that's happened."

Ghoul Reader backs away from them.

"I've seen you in pictures, but that's it. I don't know who you are."

"It was cute at first, but I'm not playing whatever game you're trying to start. You know who I am."

Ghoul Reader racks their brain for answers, but there's no result. They begin to hyperventilate. "I don't....I don't know who you are....Stop it, please!"

"Not til you say my name. I'll own up to my part when do that simple thing."

They grip at their face, talons catching on their softened skin. "I don't know who you are...Don't make me remember..... Get out.... GET OUT!"

As the stranger leaves and heads towards their car a notebook flies out reader's window - aiming for their skull had they not stepped out of the way in time. Inside are pages of filled with scratched out ink held on a weakened spine. It was a miracle they held together. The pages stick togethered, water damgaged by crusted specks of blood and smaller dots of a clearer fluid. The words written were near illegible, but there's a few key points they could make out. A birthday, the begining and ending characters to a person's name, a repeated phrase pieced together over the various pages. Don't forget. Never forget.

They'd been erased completely from reader's conscious mind. This notebook had been kept to prevent that very thing from happening. All those precious memories thrown away. The stranger was happy with the life they'd been robbed of - but no one had ever been their for them like Reader had. A new stain falls to the page.

Flipping to the final page, a note slides off the back cover.

"Come here again - and I'll erase you permanently."

It wasn't reader's hand writing. The person in the window holds up a new journal - comforting a sobbing ghoul on their shoulder.

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere insert #yandere scenarios #yandere #yandere blurb #yandere oc #tw yandere #yandere angst #zombie reader #yandere drabble

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