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scara-writes · 10 months

Text

orange juice

Beta Female Reader x Y! Omega Male

Beta X Omega I rarely seen those so why not. Let us make it more spicy by making the lead yandere. I still don't understand some concept in omegaverse so... I'm gonna make my own rule lol.

Just a heads up, grammatically errors incoming. Not proof read. Anything that is in this fiction does not meant to offend anyone. That is why it's called fiction.

CW: yandere, cursing, mention of killing.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

(THIS IS REPOST BECAUSE I REALIZED THAT SIDE BLOGS HAS LIMITED ACCESS SO I MADE A NEW ACCOUNT ;∆;)

"H-hello!" You turn around to see a familiar face visiting your spa. His pretty purple eyes were eccentric the way it brightened up when he saw you acknowledging him. It's the pretty boy you've saved last week from being pick on by the Alphas.

He was surprised that a beta like you actually didn't get intimidated by the presence of them. Well technically you did, but you pretended to be a police officer showing your fake badge and that 'back-up' is on their way to apprehend them when you noticed they were not buying your bluff at first, thankfully the Alphas that were hovering on him retreated. It was kinda funny they weren't intimidated by you until you held out a fake badge that could get them in trouble by their own law.

That idea was dumb but most people always fell for your trick, though you might get in trouble someday for the false identity which is why you only use it for emergency. Long story short, your aunt taught you this for survival in this dog water society.

At first, the pink haired male glared at you, you could careless about him since you were getting annoyed by the fact that they are giving a ruckus outside your spa and its driving away your customers. You don't want your boss finding out about this. The Alpha who guards outside the house is still taking care of his wife, so all the responsibility falls onto you the only beta employee present the rest are omegas because the other betas and alphas employees has different schedule. You were the 'strongest' among the employees inside.

You stare at the omega for a second.

The heck did you do? Why's he glaring at you?

You mentally shrugged before turning around to go back to your shop, not waiting for him to whether or not he should thank you.

A sudden angry shout from him made you pause from your tracks, "You are the same as those men earlier! I-I don't need you to save me!"

You turn to him with a deadpan look. "What are you on about?"

"Y-you think omega's are powerless and need to be protected, that's why you saved me, right?!" You can see he was quivering a little bit, his eyes are starting to show disgust look towards you. "Y-you think we don't need a jobs or—or we just need to sit still and look pretty—to be use like an incubator!" You can feel in his voice that his emotions must have been bubbling out seeing that his talk is becoming incoherent.

You scratched your head and sigh irritation, "Calm down dude. First of all, that is how Alphas that are 'leading' the society viewed omegas which is bullcrap and I don't believe in that, People who thinks like that need to check their brains in the nearby hospital. Also, I believe everyone can be independent and take care of themselves long as they can, I could careless about what the society says they can't control my life. True, omegas may be weak in nature against others but that doesn't mean all of them are weak or they are only used to look pretty for giving an offspring, they can be independent too if they wanted to. Second, you probably know how to handle them seeing you are very composed earlier but this loud noise is giving me a headache and my customers are leaving because how noisy it was. Now, If I offend you in someway well then I apologize. Bye." You gave him a small lazy wave before turning away not waiting for his response, quickly strolling back to your parlor.

So here he was, late at night. You in a closing hours shift since you are the only masseuse left in the parlor on work except your friend who was waiting for you in the employees room clock out for the work and playing, from the game he just downloaded in his app called something impact. Gin san impact? Gone wrong impact? Whatever it was you were hooked when you saw it earlier and will probably download it once you got home.

"Ah yes, welcome." You acknowledge him, awkwardly. You didn't expect him to meet you on your work. He trudges towards you requesting for service menu. You quickly handed him the said item on what were on the lists of your parlor was offering for customers, telling him to sit down while he read the list of services. He skims around the menu for a few seconds before pointing at the service list and you wrote it down; Shockingly, you witness the stranger you met a week ago was going for too many services.

"Oh umm... We are 2 hours closing in. So I think I can only do the first three." You told him. He gave you an 'oh' before agreeing he will try the others the next time when he visits.

"Do you have a partner?"

He was surprised at your sudden question. So you cleared your throat."It's.... In our protocol to ask our customers...and We know that it is personal question."

You can tell he was weirded out but he told you he doesn't have one. You muttered alright and went ahead to take the menu from him. You put them back on the rack as you walk pass him to put the sign close from the glass entrance before going to a cabinet to carry a towel and some thin white cloth for him to change. You wrote his room number and guide him to his room.

He stood up and follows you.

Through out the walk you can feel him staring at your move, making you feel a little tense as the walk in the hallway of doors feels like forever.

You twisted the knob before letting yourself inside first. He smiles at you and walk inside, you gave him the items you brought earlier telling him to change and knock on the door when he is ready.

That's weird, last time you met him. He was very resentful and now he was being smiley and friendly to you. You don't mind at least he was tolerating you for now.

You closed the door behind you putting on surgical mask since some others weren't comfortable smelling their pheromones.

You heard a knock and a small 'I'm ready' and you go in.

He was sitting down. His top were bare, abs were shown on his frame except for his lower part since it was covered by the thin cloth you gave earlier, you can definitely see how smooth his skin was—no scars just a little bruise on his left thigh which is something you definitely won't asked, you quickly look anywhere before he catches you staring at him. The towel were neatly folded along the clothes he wore earlier at the other table.

The pink haired omega was looking at you and he did caught you staring but you don't know that. A small smile escape on his lips. You cleared your throat and lit up three incense candles for relaxation and turn on a relaxing music, you went on the other side of the room where the sink was and washed your hands, sanitizing it using your own towel. You look back at him to see that he was still gazing towards you. He was still sitting, you assumed this must be his first time going to a spa or massage parlor since he should be already laying on his stomach or he must be waiting for you to give him an order since he ask for three different types of session. "You should lay on your stomach so we could start now."

"Why are you wearing a mask?"

You stop applying oil on your hand at his question before resuming again. "...both parties might not be comfortable when a pheromones were smelled."

"Oh."

There was a silence between the two of you.

"I'm going to start now." He nodded, doing what you'd asked earlier and close his eyes. The small round stones were place on his spinal before proceeding on messaging him with your oily hands.

The first few minutes were the same awkward atmosphere except for the jazzy music on the background, Both of your hand slides to his shoulders, wrapping around and gave a small squeeze. You hear him whimper.

"S-sorry!" You shrugged his apologize saying that is normal for customers.

"I umm didn't say thank you when you saved me last week..."

He continued,"sorry for bothering you with your customers."

"Don't mention it. I actually didn't plan on going outside if it weren't for my coworkers since like I mentioned last time you can handle them pretty well." You bit your tongue inside since you don't know how to talk back when someone compliments you or apologize to you. You only wanted to let him know that

He must have noticed that so he continued, "...I didn't catch your name earlier."

You answered him,"It's (Y/n)..."

"(Y/n)." The way your name rolled on his voice makes your body feel a little bit weird.

"(Y/n), huh.. that's a weird name for a beta." You blink at him before chuckling at him. "You're weird. It's a normal name."

He giggled. "My names Luke."

"Your name doesn't suits you." You teased him before telling him to turn around so you can do second session.

He obliged scoffing at you as he lay back down on his back. "H-hey! Luke is pretty cool name."

"I never said it wasn't, I said it doesn't suit you."you gave him a smirk which he pouts. He look cute when he did that.

"The badge you'd shown were fake wasn't it?"

Ah shit, someone noticed it. No use of hiding it then.

"..uhh..yeah, I use it only if things goes out of hands."

The two of you talk for a bit laughing resuming the second session until it was time for his third and final session which is to massage his face.

"Is this your first time... Ummm..doing service for omegas?" His voice were small but you didn't notice he was anticipating at your answer. You hummed thoughtfully before answering. "Hmmm.. not really... I get omegas as my clients but I guess I would say this is the first time that I could finish my sessions with them."

He seemed confused which made you continue, "Ummm... Most partners of theirs were jealous and would almost instantly attack us, telling us that we shouldn't touch them, but we know that we were only doing our job as masseuse so. Of course, the customers paid us of any injuries or damage properties as well as others, we don't blame them, and it was starting to get out of hand.... Since, we don't have any other choice, we hired an Alpha to stop any ruckus. I would lie if I said I don't want to hit one of my clients' unreasonable partners."

"Oh..." You noticed his reaction when he got your question earlier about his status.

"He already went home though. He excused himself just earlier, his spouse needed him so we let him go now." You tell him. He must have realized there was no guard around earlier. Just you at the receptionist counter.

".. What's your thought about Alphas?"

"nothing much, regardless how some of them are uhh... unreasonable when it comes to greed. I'm pretty sure not all of them are all like that."

He didn't respond but you caught him rolling his eyes before closing them. He muttered something but you didn't quite catch it.

You slide and pressure your oily hands on his, you heard a purring, making you look around the room in confusion. Was there a cat somewhere?

You scan your eyes around the room for a bit more only to register that it was actually coming from him.

A little heat coming from your cheeks but you squash it down the feeling as it was inappropriate, it was good thing you were wearing a mask before he can see your reaction.

You didn't do anything about it and continue your work. Luke on the other hand felt euphoric, your hands were doing the God's work. He hasn't tell you what he felt when you save him from the bunch of alpha's trying to court him. He was grateful—no, he wasn't grateful; he was lightened up the fact you view omegas like a normal person and not dehumanising or infantilize them—considering you are a beta and has nothing to do with omega but still! He just felt happy that he wasn't the only one who has that kind of perspective.

You cleaned him up with a towel, you noticed his eyes were half dazed as if he was relaxed, you told him that he can now change back, as you blew off the candle and turn off the jazz music, washing your hands again and drying it off with your own towel. You put the other materials back to where they belong and look at the timer to see you over time. You opened the door and twisting it open to see your friend/co-worker.

He was pouting.

The pink haired male saw him through the doorway before you close the door behind you, and starts talking with your friend. His purple eyes realise he was an omega.

He felt a little pang from his chest.

"Hey, I thought you said you are going to clock out once it hits midnight~!" Tyrenn whined out. He tried to help you carry the items you were holding but you refused as the both of you struts back to the employees room, "He's the last customer."

You threw the towel and the cloth at the hamper before stretching yourself up. "Man, I'm tired." He threw you a bottle of orange juice and you catch it, twisting the cap open and drink a little bit before clocking out of work. You grab your bag and change at the changing room with your casual wear and goes outside from the employees room only with your co-worker. He tells you that you're gonna be excited on what he discovered on the game he played earlier while the both of you starts trudging at the main lobby where the counter was.

Luke was waiting, his eyes brightened up when you arrived. he waited to give you his money but your friend who was clinging at you took it from him, thanking him for accepting your service, putting them at the cash register before locking it.

He lick his dry his lips before turning to you, "Umm...thanks again. The service was great. I-I'll see you next time. It was nice meeting you." He smelled the scent of orange juice that you were holding. It was half full, there were some in the corner of your lips.

Tyrenn grabbed the bottle from your hand and you let him drink it as you start conversing with your last customer.

You nod at him, noticing he was a little taller than you. "Likewise. Should I call you a taxi? It's already past midnight."

He shook his head, smiling. "No it's fine! I live few blocks away from here." He put his left hand on his pocket while the other one was slowly pulling the glass door where he comes in.

"Oh, Be careful. I just heard that there was a serial killer roaming around this time at night killing Alphas. That doesn't mean you should be careless about it. You might never know when the killer change their mind on killing the others." You warned him. The pink haired male nodded again, smiling even more when you're worried for his safety. Tyrenn waved him a goodbye before talking to you again about the game he played earlier as he clings even more to your arms. Luke's eyes slightly twitches at the scene.

"Yes, yes I will! Thank you again!" He walked out of the parlor smiling. When he is few blocks away from the spa, his smile disappear.

He might change his mind on killing your friend though.

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cinnamostar · 4 months

Text

blind date

pairing : changbin x gn!reader

summary : when you’re set up on a blind date and it turns out to be your ex boyfriend from two years ago

wc : 1.6k

cw : nonidol!au, they’re exes your honor, fluffy, cutesy, not proof read that much idk what else

a/n : wrote this on my phone again so sorry for any mistakes! i don’t really know how to feeeel abt this fic, not my best work but i hope you like it!

you let out a nervous sigh as you enter the restaurant, a cold shiver traveling down your spine as the hostess leads you to your table, one your friends reserved on your behalf. you were starting to regret agreeing to this blind date your friends, hyunjin and felix, set you up on, but they were so insistent on it and said they found the ‘perfect’ match for you. you weren’t sure if you could trust them that much, but you knew at the very least, whoever it was wouldn’t be some creep like your other unfortunate dates.

hyunjin and felix were some of your best friends, ones you made in the last two years since you moved to the city due to a new position you got in your company. you met them by chance through a few coworkers, and since then, the three of you have been inseparable. they were incredibly supportive people, but they were tired of hearing you complain about shitty dates every weekend, so they decided to take matters in their own hands, stating they know this really cool guy through some other friends who was ‘totally’ your type. and apparently this new guy just moved to the city a few months ago too, so you would be the perfect tour guide for him too.

regardless of your nerves, you decide to put your trust in your friends as you patiently wait for this mystery man to arrive. you were curious to know what those two boys believed your type was and what made them so hellbent on making you go on this date, but perhaps curiosity killed the cat.

“hey, sorry im late!” a voice you were all too familiar with rings in your ears, the man before you rushing into his seat across from you with an apologetic smile as your mouth hangs open in utter shock and surprise, goosebumps making themselves known all over your body.

once he sits down, he looks up to meet your flabbergasted expression, the smile on his face falling once the realization hits him. his faces pales, almost as if he just saw a ghost appear right before his very eyes.

“changbin?” you ask incredulously, still not able to accept the ridiculousness of the situation.

“y/n?!” he mirrors your tone, except he was far more boisterous than you, causing a few heads to turn as he flashes a sheepish and apologetic grin to the other patrons around you two.

“i… uh, you’re my blind date?” he questions in a lower volume with raised eyebrows.

you sigh, an astounded chuckle escaping you, “i guess so…”

“i see… since when did you move here?”

“uhm, a little bit over two years ago. i ended up taking that promotion my company offered me,” you respond, a hint of anxiousness trembling through your words.

“oh, so, basically after we broke up..?”

“mhm,” you hum in confirmation, your body feeling tense due to the awkwardness that hung in the air between you two. “felix and hyunjin told me you just moved here, right?”

changbin nods, “yeah, one of my old friends needed a roommate and i just kinda wanted a fresh start, so i took my chances. how do you know hyunjin and felix?”

“coworkers,” you reply shortly, not really sure what to do in this situation.

“oh, cool! they’re old high school friends of mine, we only reconnected recently,” he smiles gently, biting his lips due to his nervousness, “i’m sorry if this is awkward.”

“ah, no, it’s okay. it’s no one’s fault, this is just some crazy coincidence,” you reassure him, “we don’t have to go through with the rest of the date, it’s okay to end it he-“

“no, no!” he interrupts, a dusting of pink appearing on his cheeks, “if you’re okay with it, we can just use this to catch up, no? it’s been awhile since we last spoke.”

you let out an uncertain sigh, “i’m fine with it, it’s just that we really didn’t end on the greatest of terms, did we?”

changbin’s face grimaces as he reflects back on the last months of your relationship, ones that were filled with constant fighting and disagreements over the littlest of things, which ultimately led to a very over dramatic break up since you both had become sick of each other over time. “no, definitely not,” he chuckles, “but we can catch up like old friends, no? unless, you wanna miss out on a lovely time with me, then that’s your decision,” he teases, the old changbin you once fell in love with slowly peaking through.

you roll your eyes playfully, “right, it would be a shame if i missed out on something like that,” a smile breaks out onto your face, a sudden wave of butterflies and shyness overtaking you. “sure, let’s catch up. i don’t mind.”

“great,” he clasps his hand almost as if he was celebrating this small victory, an embarrassed smile taking over his features, “well, i guess hyunjin and felix weren’t lying when they said this ‘mystery date,’” he lifts his hands to do air quotes, “would be my ideal type.”

you shake your head, laughing at his statement, “right, they weren’t wrong at all. maybe they were a little too spot on.”

somehow, those two hit the nail on the head and somehow paired up two former lovers through some miraculous twist of fate. there was no denying that your heart still had room for changbin, a piece of it feeling empty since your relationship with him ended. at the end of it, you had chalked it up to right person, but bad timing, as each of you were far too engrossed in each other’s career goals that inevitably took time away from the other. it wasn’t the right set of circumstances for either of you, as nether of you were at a stage of life where you could nourish a healthy relationship. he was once the person you imagined to spend the rest of your life with, but at that time, you thought if you weren’t able to bear hardships with him, then maybe he wasn’t meant to be that person. it was easier to accept you two were never meant to be, but your heart knew better than that. your heart knew he was the one, but that life just cruelly got in the way of your relationship with him.

eventually, the waiter came around to take down your orders, briefly interrupting the flow of conversation you and changbin were having. in some strange way, talking to changbin against was incredibly refreshing, as you missed the sense of safety and familiarity he brought with him. he was still the same sweet and endearing changbin you once fell in love with all those years ago, and maybe those feelings of love never truly left your heart as each time he would giggle, your heart would thump out your chest. you found yourself having to resist the natural urge to hold his hand, or to reach over and pinch his cheeks like you use to do back when you were together.

you missed this, and you missed changbin more than you could’ve ever imagined. his very appearance was enough to rekindle old flames of affection you once held for him, ones you never thought you’d be able to experience again. you both were enjoying every moment together, laughing and poking fun at each other as if nothing had ever changed, and before you knew it, two hours had gone by in the blink of an eye.

changbin insisted on walking you to your car, matter-of-factly informing you it’s what chivalrous men like himself do, which sent you into a small fit of giggles.

a gentle breeze bellows through you both, a comfortable silence filling the air, the awkwardness from earlier no longer to be found. you look up to the night sky, taking a chance to admire the full moon that glistens above you.

“you know, whenever i look at the moon, i still think of you,” changbin confesses in a hushed whisper, a longing look in his eyes as if he was looking off into some distant memory. you turn to him with a quizzical expression, urging him to go on. “you use to always tell me to look how pretty the moon was nearly every night. even if we weren’t together, you would text me to go outside and look at it,” he reminisced fondly.

“you always looked too,” you smile.

“honestly, i didn’t really get it at first,” he laughs, “but i loved you and it always made you happy whenever we looked at it together, so i made sure to look at it every night. even if we were fighting and weren’t with each other. even now, i still look up and think of you.”

your face grows hot as his words fluster you, the unexpected vulnerability catching you off guard, “thank you,” you respond gently, “for doing that for me. it always made me feel very loved.”

“i still do it. i think part of me will always love you no matter what.”

your breath hitches, your eyes widening as he looks away bashfully, not expecting or planning for those words to ever leave his mind. you let out a soft exhale through your nose, a shaken smile taking over your features, “i feel the same way too.”

quietness returns, neither of you sure how to continue the conversation as you reach your car, “well, this is me,” you break the silence, pointing to the car next to you, “thank you for today, it was… fun. i had a lot of fun.”

he nods, “me too,” taking in a deep breath, “do you… do you want to do this sometime again?” he asks meekly, fearing your response.

“yeah, i’d really like that, changbin.”

“okay, great. it’s… it’s a date?”

“it’s a date.”

#cinnamostar writes #changbin x reader #seo changbin x reader #skz changbin #stray kids changbin #skz x reader #skz fanfic #skz fluff #skz imagines #skz scenarios #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids seo changbin

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hp-hcs · 5 months

Note

That picture of Mattheo on a post you reblogged recently both makes me want to bite him (affectionately) and hug him very innocently. Mattheo x male asexual Reader would be very Self indulgent of me 🤭 so pls

i just want to lightly pat him on the head and put him in my pocket

self-discovery — manwhore! mattheo riddle x gn! asexual! reader

tws: lots of talk of (underage) sexual situations, sexual innuendos, sexual harassment(?), homeboy does not know how to take no for an answer

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“God, Riddle is so fucking attractive.”

You look up from your phone, following your friend’s gaze. “I…guess?”

Mattheo was leaning in close to a Ravenclaw girl, talking to her in a low voice with a rather sly smile. She giggled and blushed, covering her mouth with her hand and fluttering her eyelashes.

“Ew.”

Your friend just sighed dreamily. “I wish he’d talk to me like that.”

“Ew.”

You watch as Mattheo takes the girl’s hand, leading her through the throng of people clogging up the common room to, presumably, the girl’s dorm.

You grimace and shake your head.

~~~ “…because I was- oh. Hello there, pretty boy,” Mattheo caught your eye as you squeezed past him, navigating the aisles of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.

You spare him a glance, looking him up and down before rolling your eyes.

“Hey- now don’t be like that, love. What’s your name, darling?”

You ignore him, breezing past.

~~~ “Hey darling,” a voice calls, an arm suddenly being slung over your shoulders.

You startle, glancing over to see Mattheo Riddle.

“What do you want?”

“Ouch. Just wanted to say hi, no need to be rude, sweetheart,” he pouts, his hand sliding down to rest on your waist.

You stiffen, smacking his hand away. “Yeah. Just say hi. And then what, flutter your eyelashes and make me stumble and fall into your bed?”

You storm off, leaving him standing there with his mouth hanging open.

~~~ “What’s up with Riddle?” Your friend asks. “He’s burning through boys and girls left and right. If he keeps this up, he’ll have hooked up with everyone our year by Yule.”

You grimace. “That’s so gross, dude.”

“I heard someone rejected him,” another friend of yours interjects, leaning over the table to talk in a conspiratorial whisper. “Can you imagine?”

“Not in the slightest,” you say dryly.

“Whoever turned Mattheo Riddle down must be blind or stupid, I swear,” your friend shakes their head. “Half of this school would kill for the chance to sleep with that fine specimen of man.”

You tune out their conversation, your eyes finding a Ravenclaw boy spotted with fresh hickeys following the man of the hour himself around like a lost dog. Mattheo ignores the boy, brushing him off with a sour look.

You tune back into the conversation just in time to catch one of your friends saying, “…he goes through partners like Hogwarts goes through DADA professors, I swear.”

~~~

“Oh c’mon, L/N. Won’t you just go on one date with me?” Mattheo trots after you, following you down the covered bridge.

“No. Stop asking,” you sigh. “This is the fourth time you’ve asked me this week, and it’s only Wednesday. Take. A. Hint.”

“You know, people practically throw themselves at me anyways,” he snaps suddenly. “It’s not like I need to chase you. I just want to.”

“Good for you then,” you retort. “At least you have other options for company rather than just your right hand, hm?”

He catches your wrist, pulling you to a stop. “C’mon, Y/N. I’m a nice guy, I swear. Give me one good reason why you won’t go out with me.”

“Cause you’re a fuckboy, and that’s not gonna work for me.”

“Are you calling me a manwhore?” He asks, pressing a hand to his chest in a mock-offended manner.

“Yes.”

“C’mon, why wouldn’t we work out? I might be a fuckboy, but I’m not unfaithful,” he raises his eyebrows. “You could have all of my fuckboy-ness to yourself.”

You scoff and curl your lip up in a sneer. “Oh my Merlin- Sir, I’m ace.”

He gives you a blank look. “Ace?”

“Asexual. I don’t like sex. I’m not sexually attracted to anyone.”

Mattheo blinks. “That’s an option?”

“Yeah?”

He looks bewildered. “You can- you mean- what?”

“Just because you’ve fucked half the population of Britain-”

“I…” he trails off. “I- I have to go. Uh. Look some s-stuff up.”

You watch, baffled, as he turns around without a further word and hurried back towards the castle.

#harry potter #fuck jkr #hp #hp x male reader #x male reader #gay #x reader #hp x gn reader #mattheo riddle x reader #x gender neutral reader #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x male reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #hp x enby reader #enby reader

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dustandshadows-if · 6 months

Text

Waking up in an alleyway covered in blood and with no memories is not a situation anyone wishes to find themselves in, yet here you are. With no other options, you're forced to run. From what? You're not entirely sure but you do know that if they catch you you'll find yourself suffering a fate far worse than death.

And so you run not knowing that running was quite literally going to make your life Hell. Now you have a monster in the shadows hunting you and a group of Shadowhunters, demon killers, claiming that you alone are responsible for a string of murders.

The worst part? You have no idea if you're innocent.

No memories, no allies, and no idea who you are the only thing you can do is try to find a way to prove your innocence before it is too late.

Somewhat customizable appearance (hair type and color, complexion, height, build). Mc does have a set eye color.

Four Romance Options (Two gender selectable options, one nonbinary option, and one female option)

Rediscover the life you lost or make a new one

Try to out run your past

Be an enemy of the clave (and well everyone)<3

Be severely behind on the politics of the shadow world

Oh and a voice that is very much not your own in your head

16+. Content warnings for implied torture, violence, swearing, child abuse/neglect, murder. This list will be updated as development continues

Ianira Clarke aka Nira | Age: ??? | Non-Binary | Warlock (Ro)

The high warlock of Seattle and one of the only friends that you have. Not that they would willing call you a friend, but that's besides the point. They've made sure to take care of you whenever you need help and have been working tirelessly to help you figure out what exactly happened to you. A good friend and an even greater ally; without Nira, you would've been dead on the street months ago.

Juliette Monroe | Age: 18 | Female | Vampire (Ro)

The very first person you met that didn't immediately want to kill you. She's the one who told you everything you need to know about the shadow world. Despite only being a vampire for a year she's managed to gain a good bit of fame throughout the shadow world of Seattle anyone who is anyone knows Juliette, but you're one of the lucky few who gets to actually know her. She's got a soft spot for you, but she'd rather walk into the sun than ever admit it.

Quinn Highsmith | Age: 19 | Gender Selectable | Shadowhunter (Ro)

One of the many that are hunting you. Honestly, they're so bad at catching you that one might think they're leading everyone astray on purpose... They claim to know you, but you have no memory of them. Part of you knows there was once something between the two of you, love that would've moved mountains with the way they still look at you. But that's in the past. Now, they're just another obstacle in your way, stopping you from proving your innocence.

Farrah Ashdown | Age: 19 | Gender Selectable | Shadowhunter (Ro)

Another shadowhunter and another person stopping you from clearing your name. Maybe in another life, you would've been able to truly know them for the kind and genuine person they seem to be. You'll almost never see them stray from Quinn's side. Their undying loyalty and desire for justice has made one of the nicest people to walk this Earth, your worst enemy.

Demo | Playlist | Pinterest

#dustandshadows-if #the mortal instruments #the shadowhunter chronicles #the shadowhunter chronicles if #choose your own adventure #cyoa #interactive games #survival game #text based game #if wip #wip #if game #twine game #twine #twine interactive fiction #twine if #twine wip #promo post #young adult

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copyhanni · 1 month

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god, i am so fucking pissed. i haven’t been on twit for a little bit but i just went on there and i’m bombarded with videos and photos of the members being mobbed. when i tell you i am so fucking pissed, you’d best fucking believe. i really don’t think that belift realizes, or they just don’t give a shit, that these intense situations can lead to a lot of mental and physical distress. like, i know someone did not just hit sunghoon in the fucking head with a goddamn phone!? especially after he just got back from being unwell?! when i tell you i am so close to fighting each and every single chinese “engene” that was there, i fucking mean it. like the mental affliction alone is a lot. the stress the members must have endured in that?? like imagine how claustrophobic it would be to have so many people, pressing themselves up against you to the point where it starts getting difficult to breathe. them screaming in your ears to the point you can barely hear your own voice. great way to induce a fucking panic attack. the stress of it all? like, belift does not fucking think!? not only the mental impact this could have on them, but also the physical effects that could potentially transpire? if the stress got to them, they literally could’ve fainted, thrown up, etc etc.

TW!! not only that, but what if someone tried something on one of the members. they could get groped or fucking killed. god forbid, but let’s face it. these “fans” are fucking insane. they’ve threatened to hurt our boys before. you have no idea what could happen if these situations are not handled appropriately and effectively. things could go so terribly wrong if someone actually did try to do something or had a weapon with them. belift is actively putting enhypen in consistent danger. they need to hire professionally trained bodyguards and have at least 2-3 bodyguards per member in order to properly protect them. the members are humans and belift needs to start treating them as such instead of as assets.

ensuring the safety of enhypen should be a top priority. i hope belift takes the necessary steps to protect them better. but knowing them, it’s unlikely…

tagging moots ( both here and wwonwonism ) ! @stariekis @ssunooism @sincerelyrki @saursoob @kairoot @minhypenalt @chaseyikis @riki-shenanigans @rikihqq @okwonyos @euncsace @kimsunoops @lilacnini

again, no need to interact, just felt i needed to get this out here. i hope enha is doing better, and i hope belift finally fucking does something but, again, knowing them, they likely won’t.

i’ve realized that this is my second-third serious post in such short time, but i realize that there’s just a lot of people who are messed up in the brain both when it comes to enha as one and riki by himself.

#important #enhypen #jungwon #heeseung #jay #jake #sunghoon #sunoo #ni ki #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #. ✿˙— rants !

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hunn1e-bunn1e · 8 months

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Bonten: - Morticia Addams (Male) Reader

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•

🫓Flatbread-Anon, you're back! It's been a good while since I've heard from you, I'm glad you've sent me another one of your amazing asks. — Benny 🐰

The Bonten members that take an interest in you will be Ran and Kakucho; because I need to write some exclusive content for those two and this is the closest I'll get for now. Their parts will be separated of course.

🎴•♡•🎴•♡•🎴•♡•🎴•♡•🎴•♡•🎴•♡•🎴•♡•🎴

Yet another traitor to Bonten had been sniffed out. This on had been poking around in their real-estate business ties, closing and canceling deals while pocketing the profits for themselves.

Kokonoi, who had been noticing a small but steady drop in revenue, sent some people to investigate and they actually caught the guy in the act. Unfortunately though, he had fled before they could properly apprehend him.

Thankfully they were able to track the traitor to an abandoned warehouse, where he was currently being held in wait for a few of the executives who were sent to deal with him.

That leads us to where we are now.

"These fuckers really can't get it through their damn skulls, huh? Ya can't fuck with Bonten's shit!"

Sanzu growls, sitting cross-legged in the HQ's lounge as he loads bullets into the magazine of his handgun.

Ran and Rindou already stood by the doorway, one not bothering to bring much other than his personal firearms since he wouldn't be doing much at all and the other with nothing since he wouldn't be going with. Kakucho, who had previously left the room, reenters with coffee in hand, unfazed with Sanzu's ramblings.

"C'mon, let's get goin', we gotta traitor to kill."

The pink hair man stands up as he pockets his now fully loaded gun and grabs his katana.

Rindou nods at the three and waves his brother off as they all head out of the lounge and to the elevator to complete the task given to them.

Footsteps clack against the damp pavement as a figure clad in all black strolls the foggy streets; a serene smile painted on their black stained lips. The lacy black parasol in their hands is spun around at the handle as it rests on their shoulder.

Suddenly... their feet come to a stop. Before them stood a severely run down building; most likely condemned by the looks of it.

"My, my... this is quite the breathtaking veiw..."

Their deep voice humms echoing about the vacant street as they speak.

Kakucho pulls the car in front of the address he was given and parks, turning the engine off. He stares out of the windshield for a moment at the thick fog, brows lifting in confusion. There was no fog warning on the weather forecast today...

"Ya'll comin' in or stayin' out here?"

Sanzu asks the two impatiently as he gathers all his needed equipment and prepares to exit the car.

"I'll stay out here, I need a smoke anyway."

Ran lazily replies in his natural carefree tone as he opens the passenger door and rummages for his carton of cigarettes in his breast pocket.

Kakucho only waves the pinkette off, eyes still stuck on the fog outside as his brows furrow. The mullet haired man only shrugs as he gets out and fast walks into the warehouse, carrying his belongings with him.

The short haired Haitani pulls out both a cigarette and an intricate lighter that Rindou got him for a birthday present last year as he stands by the car. Lighting up his cigarette, Ran turns to Kakucho, noticing how quiet he had been the whole time.

"Are just going to sit there, Scarface?"

He humms, raising a thin brow at the unmoving executive.

"I'd get out but I don't want this fog screwing with my depth perception, I've only got one good eye, after all."

The blackette answers the purple haired man as he pulls out his phone and opens the weather app; completely ignoring the screams coming from the warehouse.

"Fog? Oh yeah, it is pretty foggy out he—"

The elder Haitani started, only to be cut off by a eerie baritone voice.

"My, what a lovely symphony to accompany this magnificent view... such a marvelous night this quaint little stroll turned out to be~."

The mysterious voice coos out.

The two Bonten executives flinch and immediately reach for their weapons, heads snapping in the direction the voice echoed from. Kakucho quickly exits the car with weapon drawn, not bothering to close the door in his alert state.

"Dear me, pointing such things at a stranger, I'm honored that you would threaten my life in such a way.~ Though I'm just a tad insulted, I'd truly prefer a slow paced and gorey demise.~"

The deep voice echos towards them once again as a tall figure shrouded in black emerges from the fog.

A man, dressed is all black old school English clothing, as far as they were aware, and holding a black lace parasol. He was tall and lanky with a very dark and ominous but non threatening aura, his blacked lips were pulled up into a mysterious smile.

The men were in shock; how the hell hadn't they noticed this guy before!? His presence was so intense that it would be impossible for the two, who are seasoned fighters, to miss him.

"How rude of me, I've neglected to introduce myself to you. I am [Surname] [Name], pleased to meet you two gentlemen."

The man now known as [Name], greeted the two as bowed graceful.

"This is no place for civilians; Bonten is conducting business here. Leave."

Kakucho, calming his nerves, orders the new comer, his gun unmoving from it's position pointing at their head.

Feeling no threat, Ran lowers his gun but doesn't put it away just in case something happens. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other as he grabs his phone out with his free hand, preparing to alert Sanzu of their unwelcome guest.

"What beings you here, Sweets?"

The elder Haitani purrs as he opens his contacts, directing his eyes towards [Name] instead of his phone screen.

"Hahaha, how cheeky you are. I'm simply here to take in the view, but it seems my presence has caused a bit of a fuss with you gentlemen."

[Name] chortles, readjusting his parasol to the other shoulder and giving it a little twirl by the handle.

Kakucho lowers his gun just so, taken aback at the strange man's words.

"The view? What?"

He mutters, brows furrowed in confusion.

"Well, as much as I would simply adore to stay here and take in the lingering death in the air, I must bid you adieu. Thing must be famished right about now."

The gothic man informed them as he turned on his heel and walked back into the mist.

Narrowed eyes followed his figure as he disappeared into the night...

💀•♡•☠•♡•💀•♡•☠•♡•💀•♡•☠•♡•💀•♡•☠

...and those eyes were Ran's.

The elder Haitani huffed out a quiet chuckle as he turned off his phone, his thumb hovering just above the call button on Sanzu's contact. Why bother informing Sanzu of this incident; if he did then surely the pinkette would spoil some potential fun he could have in the future. A smirk makes its way onto his lips; what an interesting guy.

Approaching footsteps draw his attention back towards the building. Ran turns to see a blood spattered Sanzu sporting a crazed grin.

"Aaaall done! Let's go, I got a couple pills o' ecstacy off the guy and 'm itchin' to take 'em."

The pinkette cheers as he opens the backseat passenger door and tosses his things inside.

"Damnit Sanzu, you'll get blood on my seats!"

Kakucho growls at the mullet haired man as he too gets into the car, leaning over the driver seat to face the pinkette.

Ran sweat drops. Yep; same shit different day.

☠•♡•💀•♡•☠•♡•💀•♡•☠•♡•💀•♡•☠•♡•💀

...and those eyes were Kakucho's.

The blackette returns his weapon to his back pocket, eyes still trained on the retreating figure. They had such a commanding and eerie presence about them and the half blind man couldn't help but draw parallels between them and a figure of his past. He couldn't help but want to know more about them and just who they were exactly. Maybe, just maybe, they would see each other in the near future.

Approaching footsteps draw his attention back towards the building. Kakucho turns to see a blood spattered Sanzu sporting a crazed grin.

"Aaaall done! Let's go, I got a couple pills o' ecstacy off the guy and 'm itchin' to take 'em."

The pinkette cheers as he opens the backseat passenger door and tosses his things inside.

"Damnit Sanzu, you'll get blood on my seats!"

The blackette growls at the mullet haired man as he too gets into the car, leaning over the driver seat to face the pinkette.

Ran laughed at the two in the background, dropping his cigarette and crushing it with his shoe before pocketing both his gun and phone.

Kakucho groans; he just replaced the seat covers...

🎴•♡•🎴•♡•🎴•♡•🎴•♡•🎴•♡•🎴•♡•🎴•♡•🎴

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

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extinctspino · 1 year

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Secret admirer

Part 2

Part 1

Pairing: Wednesday x Gorgon!GNreader

Wordcount:

Warnings:

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She held the soaked hat between her delicate fingers and placed it somewhere it could dry up a bit.

She had been getting flowers every single night for 2 weeks without a fail. It was about time she found out who kept delivering her specifically these flowers.

She considered burning them at first but decided against it. This said person must have a good reason to be dropping them off at the balcony.

She tried to wait for this mysterious person to appear, but just like elves they never show themselves when you’re watching.

Now that she has some sort of lead she can easily find out about who you are. She inspected the hat closely and discovered 2 things.

One, you were definitely part of the gardening club. On the back in big capital letters is read ‘GARDENING CLUB’. That was obvious.

Two, there’s a high chance you were a Gorgon. Gorgons typically wear hats like that to cover their statue-making snakes.

This was like a little game for her. It’s as if you were testing her.

Did you finally want to reveal yourself by dropping your hat on purpose? A possibility.

Or were you just not careful enough and dropped your hat by mistake. Another possibility.

Whichever one it was, she was going to find out by paying a little visit to the said club. She laid down in her usual sleeping position - which made her look like she was laying in a coffin - and drifted off to nightmare land.

The next morning she skipped breakfast and immediately went to the gardening area. She had an amazing night, dreaming about torturing the people that deserved it most.

You on the other hand... You were stoned the most of it. After a couple of hours spent being a literal statue, the stone started to crack. You were finally freed from your temporary self inflicted-prison.

You couldn’t sleep after that. You needed some movement to loosen your muscles a little. Being stoned for so long felt suffocating for you.

You went to your favorite place in school and walked around, watering the plants that needed to be watered, fed the carnivore plants some worms, and made sure everything was how it was supposed to be.

After finishing all your daily tasks you started wondering through all the different kinds of flowers. You were trying to pick out a new flower to drop by tonight. “Hmm, this one’s cool, but just not it.”

You often talked to yourself. It became a habit after you started your whole flower franchise.

“That one is perfect.”

“HOLY FLOWER.” Even the snakes on your head hissed at the sudden voice jump scaring you.

You snapped your neck toward the voice and almost flinched when you saw who it was. “Wha- what are you doing here?” You asked her with wide eyes, she wasn’t supposed to be this close to you!

“Am I not allowed to be here? I was simply helping you pick out a flower for me.” You backed away from her, “Uhh, I- I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“So this doesn’t belong to you then?” You wished one of the meat-eating plants would just swallow you whole right this moment.

In her hand was your one and only club member hat. You gulped audibly before reaching out your hand to take it from her.

“I thought you didn’t know what I was talking about? I can’t just let you steal this person’s lost hat.” Her blank face and murderous voice might as well just kill you because you were certainly going to die of embarrassment soon.

“Okay okay! You caught me. There’s a 99.99% chance that that’s my hat.”

“No, no. Uhm I mean, 100%. Yes 100% sure that’s my hat that you’re holding there... in your hands.”

You were just incoherently blabbering about the stupid hat that literally no one cares about.

Wednesday couldn’t help but feel a little pinch in her heart when she saw you so flustered, so... cute. She deleted that thought from her mind the moment she even thought of that.

But what she wasn’t able to delete was the feeling that was created by you and only you.

#wednesday x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday #wednesday the series #wednesday netflix #wednesday show #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams netflix #wednesday addams series #wednesday addams show #wednesday imagine #wednesday addams imagine

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agent-calivide · 8 months

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IEYTD 3 Theory

I fully plan on making a full blown theory video compiling all of my evidence, HOWEVER, I am also an impatient bitch who wants to be able to say "I called it" in case this ends up taking a month to make or something like that- so enjoy a new textwall :)

MAJOR IEYTD 3 SPOILERS

In the latest game, you can find seven coins known as phantom coins that are left by a mysterious person known only as the Phantom. Six of them are hidden in each level and then one additional one you find in your main hub that you unlock after beating the game. Getting all the coins reveals a note left by the phantom that reads: “It seems you’re as good as they say, Phoenix. They used to say I was good, too. But I made a choice. And before they get you killed, I hope you realize you have the same choice: to die or to live.”

At the bottom there's a code that reads “I Expect You To Live” when deciphered. There's also notably a line from the Handler where he comments on how the person who gets those coins where they need to be has to be even stealthier than Phoenix, which is impressive since Phoenix is the top agent currently.

But it wasn’t always that way. Phoenix has only recently risen to Agency Fame, there was an agent that was number one before them, and we know who it is. At the end of every level in IEYTD 3, we open in a board room of sorts, looking down at our office in the Babadag EOD base, and to the side of us there’s a wall of portraits, all of various important figureheads of the EOD. The director, the our handler, doctor Prism, etcetera, but one of them is missing. Snoop around, and you find a portrait of a young, brunette woman, V. Vitti, reveled to be Valeri Vitti if you play with subtitles on, and she is labeled as the lead field agent. The previous number one.

Between the fact that she was taken off the wall and hidden, it didn’t take long to conclude that VV was the Phantom, supported by the fact that the star icon that’s associated with the phantom looks like two interlocking V’s. Valeri Vitti.

Now we know who the phantom is, but that doesn’t really do much for us story wise other than maybe the promise of facing our predecessor in a future game, how does a character that’s never been mentioned even in passing until now really pack a narrative punch? Except, the phantom has been there, even if she was never mentioned.

In the first game, in operation Winter Break, we see a portrait of a young brunette woman in Zor’s office. The very same woman who’s in a group photo with all of the other figureheads, V. Vitti. I’ve seen a lot of people conclude that this means that either Vitti is Zor, or she’s working with Zor, but I don’t personally buy it.

When it comes to her being Zor, it doesn’t really make sense. Zor is shown to be very protective of their identity, not only using voice modulators any time they talk to Phoenix, but also using the neutral terms “they/them” according to the devs in the official discord. As far as I know, this has not changed, even if Schell uses “he” on occasion while talking about the game in interviews. Functionally, when talking about the context of the games and what we’ve been presented, we aren’t supposed to know anything about Zor. Race, gender, age, it’s all up in the air, a nebulous void of information. And we’re supposed to think this person? Who has hidden their identity to the point of having a completely blank file with nothing but “confidential” slapped all over it also has a massive portrait of themselves in their office? Not only that, but in their office that’s primed to go off with traps in case an agent gets in? It seems reckless at best, and honestly really out of character to me.

Zor having an egotistical display of themselves in their office is more like something Juniper would do. Zor isn’t one to lavish themselves in attention and make themselves the focus of anything. They only come out of the shadows when things get serious. Phoenix interrupting the peacekeeper, finding their hidden lab where they ran the kinesium experiments that could foil their entire plot, getting to Operation K-Boom and working with Prism to thwart their other major scheme. They wouldn’t just have their whole identity on display and risk losing their anonymity. But you know what it does look like? A photo of a loved one on your desk. It’s quite common in offices, be it corporate or cubical, to have photos of your loved ones to get you through the day, to remember what you’re doing it for while you’re making a thousand spreadsheets and wanting to bash your head into your desk. It’s a way to have a piece of yourself and what you care about at work.

So Zor knows the Phantom but isn’t her, why would they not be working together in that case? After all, the Phantom seems just on keen on getting Phoenix off the field as Zor, isn’t that a good sign that they have the same goals?

Not exactly.

Zor shows such contempt for Phoenix, they want that agent dead, and they want it to be as soon as possible. They don’t want Phoenix off the field by any means necessary, even if that’s a comfy retirement, they want them gone. Out of the picture, they celebrate when Phoenix dies. If you look at the coroner report, there’s a note in the corner from Zor that says they understand if people want to take time to celebrate. Zor, the person who has crummy escape pods for their workers that frequently lead to their Operatives getting killed, has little qualms about dropping their scientists into fiery infernos over who knows how minor of an infraction, has their workers in the mines do inhumanly long shifts and simply won’t let them leave, and in some cases outright lies to their workers and leaves them abandoned at work sites like Ollie in the underwater lab, gives permission for their workers to party, if for a short while, in the event of the death of the Phoenix.

That goes beyond some minor or even major inconvenience, Zor puts their basic fundamentals aside to allow everyone a window of celebration in the even of Phoenix’s death. There is no way they’d leave a note saying they expect Phoenix to put themselves first and take care of themselves, to put themselves before the EOD. Nor would any of their top operatives or moles, everyone at Zoraxis despises Phoenix, and it’s Phoenix in specific. None of these people want Phoenix to go have a peaceful life in the country side, they want to mount the agents head on a wall like a trophy.

But someone who would?

A former agent who was in Phoenix’s exact shoes.

Throughout IEYTD 3, you can flip between Public Radio and Agency Radio. The public radio is mostly just the game soundtrack with a few little advertisements that tell you more about the world, but the Agency radio is much more interesting. Through it, we get updates on the EOD’s world, we hear a handler give run-downs to all of the agents about what’s going on with the Kinesium experiments, what’s going on with Prism, rules about staying a football field away from other agents, things like that. But one of the first things we hear from this agency broadcast is that Agent Phoenix is not just a secret agent. They’re a famous secret agent. One so big that the amount of agents joining the EOD is staggering, and they’ll run out of kinesium for their TK chips at this rate.

A funny little side tangent for sure, but consider: What’s keeping former agents off of those radio waves? Nothing, in fact, we see that the station is compromised in a note left BY the Phantom, and the last phantom coin you get is by entering a code left on your desk by them with said note. So who’s to say Vitti didn’t have access to an agency radio, heard everything that was going on with the Phoenix, and chose to step in. To let them know that there is another option. That Phoenix doesn’t have to keep risking their life for an agency that treats them like a number and a trophy rather than a person. But she didn't want her identity potentially outed, so she quickly took her photo off the wall and tucked it into a hiding space in hopes of Phoenix not finding it.

But Zor does know Vitti. After all, her portrait is in their office. Which leads to my next point, we hear in Operation: Squeaky Clean from the first game that Zor’s not doing these things because they’re just a bad person who wants to watch the world burn. They specifically want vengeance on the agency, but vengeance for what? Sure, it could just be the agency constantly getting in the way of their plans, but what made them start in the first place? What drove them to decide that they wanted to go down this route of villainy? Surely there’s gotta be something other than just “they want to rule the world”, Zor basically already ruled it at the beginning of the series. They’re a corporate billionaire that was able to get away with filling popsicles with enough lead to kill a person instantly, and they didn’t get anything more than a slap on the wrist? They could have done anything they wanted at that point, why make a giant death laser in outer space, they coulda spent that money doing literally anything else?

But who do they aim it at? Not the heads of state. Not a symbol of peace. Not even a test run in the ocean. Their first ever laser strike is aimed at an EOD base. An EOD base with the man that at some point was the lead support agent, someone who knew Vitti personally, Reginald Crane. Our Handler. That wasn’t a random shot, nor was it a scheme to take over the world. It was a personal attack on the Enhanced Operatives Division.

So, jump a few pet sharks with me as I spin a story for you. The EOD is established and has dozens, hundreds of competent agents even, and they’re able to stop international global crisis and villainous organizations by working underground. As time goes on, one agent stands out from the rest, Valari Vitti, an agent so good at sneaking in without a trace, she quickly climbs the ranks and becomes the lead field agent at the EOD.

But people are more than just their work, as is Vitti. She could be a friend, a sister, or, and this is my personal theory, someone’s lover. Their wife. Sure, working at the EOD is dangerous, but that’s just part of it, and if her partner knew, say they too worked at the EOD or Vitti was simply able to open up about her work, then there’d be no secrets. A needed relief from the stress of agency things. No need for a double life, she’d be able to be herself around them.

But as she keeps progressing up the ranks, she realizes things can’t go on like this forever. She can’t keep going to this dangerous job, there are risks! How long until she was hurt? Maimed? Killed!? She can’t keep doing this. It’s not viable, she likely will die if she doesn’t make this decision for herself and leave.

So. She does. She doesn’t resign, doesn’t go through the process of making an official exit, she just disappears. If she simply resigned, her photo wouldn’t still be up, and it sure as heck wouldn’t be tucked away in the pot of a random snake plant. The EOD could have found her a replacement, some sort of backup, anyone who’s worked in business has watched a coworker die and get replaced in chillingly short time, something the EOD doesn’t seem to be above. They can’t afford to be above it, agents die every day.

So there’s no reason for Vitti’s portrait to still be in that frame if she died. But if she simply vanished, then that could explain why she’s still up there on that wall. The EOD didn’t replace her, because they may have still been looking for her. We know that when an agent vanishes, the EOD sends people to try and recover them. The site of the PeaceKeeper is checked for Phoenix’s body, we know it is thanks to Reginald’s recording at the end of IEYTD 2. The EOD always will try to find an agent or what remains of them.

Over time, perhaps they gave up. Went to close the case but never got around to it because the EOD is always busy.

But Vitti’s spouse never forgot. They sure as hell never forgave either. Their wife was gone without a trace, and they had nothing left of her but her photos and an EOD lighter that they keep in a safe in their office. They knew they had to get revenge, they had to make the people that took their loved one suffer. So, they went to work. They established a business and gave themselves the fake name Zor and called the business Zoraxis.

They hunker down, and simply plot and scheme for a while. They claw their way up the social and economic ladder. They cut every corner, take every shortcut, and they hoard as much money as they possibly can and establish themselves as a cruel, immoral person that doesn’t care about the health or safety of their workers on the way up. As time goes on, they start their second half of their plan: Creating an entire establishment with the main goal of taking down the EOD.

They take in anyone who will help with their goals, the more deranged the better. A scientist who loves to burn things and wants to create a super laser? Give her the money and tell her to fire her first shot at the building their late wife used to work at. An unhinged fashion designer obsessed with maiming and death? Wonderful, you can deal with all the pains in my side that get in the way. Anything to finally bring down the people who cost them everything.

But the Death Engine didn’t work. Not only did some random pest destroy it, it didn’t even take down one of the people they wanted dead the most, the lead Support Agent. Maybe Zor particularly hates the man who was supposed to be watching Vitti, keeping her safe. And now?

Not only is he alive, but he’s taken on a new agent who’s taking Vitti’s place? Some random nobody who’s been a pest, who should have died ages ago, not only was getting in their way, but was also apparently good enough to replace their lost loved one without so much as a passing glance? No. They were going to take down the EOD one way or another. The EOD’s a secret organization from even the government, maybe if they take hostile control then they’ll be able to take them down. Sure, the EOD survived a laser, but there’s no way they’ll survive nukes, right? Surely, surely that will get them their revenge-

But no. That agent comes back. They come back and ruin everything. By the time Operation K-Boom happens, not only has the Phoenix ruined several of their most complicated plans that were years in the making, but they had solidly taken the position of their late wife. They took the only thing she had left. A legacy. How dare that pesky Phoenix think they can just step in and replace the one they hold dearly so carelessly? So thoughtlessly? They. Had. To. Die.

Of course, it doesn’t work. Phoenix wins, and Zor is back to the drawing board. The only major thing that gets in the way of this is why wouldn’t Vitti tell her partner that she was leaving the EOD? Going into hiding? Well, the IEYTD franchise isn’t a stranger to having agents split off. In Operation Fifth Class, we see Phoenix try to rescue a woman known as Anna Ulanova. Anna says a few things to the agent, but the last thing we hear is her saying she’d try to come find them, but she had a suspicion that they wouldn’t leave their life. They wouldn’t quit fieldwork.

So we’ve seen cases where there’s an agent and someone who’s not quite in the circle but is aware of what’s going on splitting off because the agent can’t stop putting work first. In the same vein, we’ve seen other relationships fall apart due to someone being unable to stop putting work first.

Leading up to the third game, Schell games released a bunch of ciphers and puzzles that lead to minor lore drops. One of them was shawnsdesk, a collection of files made by Shawn in HR about various characters from the franchise. Most of them were important characters. Solaris, Fabricator, Juniper, Zor, but there were two that were notable.

Shawn in HR, and Sam in accounting. Shawn’s is, of course, mostly just him inflating his own ego and talking about how good he is at making files on all of the people at the EOD, but Sam is where it gets interesting.

We have heard nothing about Sam at this point, and looking over the file, it’s messy. Full of snide insults, catty remarks, Shawn filling this report with resentment, but over what? A bad breakup. Sam telling Shawn that he can’t be with him because Shawn won’t stop putting work first. Why would Schell show us this now, during this window of time where everyone's clawing for more lore and content of the third game? Why show a random lover's quarrel in the middle of all of this story relevant content? I suspect that it's because Shawn and Sam's story is lore relevant, it's just not their lore we're meant to be focused on.

This series has a running theme of two people getting along, maybe even being in love or romantically inclined, and then it falling apart because someone can’t stop putting work first. Phoenix and Anna, Sam and Shawn, and now, or rather long in the past, Vitti and Zor. Maybe, the two were in a rough patch, or had gotten into arguments about Vitti's dangerous work. Maybe she was sick of feeling this upset resentment for her partner and decided she didn’t just want to quit the EOD and try to fix things with Zor. She wanted out. She wanted to start over. Completely over. She wanted to live.

#i expect you to die #ieytd2 #ieytd #ieytd fandom #i expect you to die 2 #agent phoenix #i expect you to die 3 #ieytd 3 #ieytd spoilers #ieytd 3 spoilers #ieytd theory

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honimello · 5 months

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The Phantom of the Opera

Chapter One: Angel of Music

Papa Emeritus iii/Terzo x afab!Reader

Summary: A darkness lurks within the walls of the Opera house. It slinks through crawlspaces and watches you through your dressing room mirror. On the night of your first showing as lead soprano, you find yourself doubting your talents. Unbeknownst to you, the Phantom is watching, and it knows your pain. (1,700-ish words, I'm sorry it's so short lol)

Story Warnings: Age-Gap (Reader is well into her twenties), Vague Stalking, Voyeurism, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Slight Flirting, Eventual Smut, Canon Divergence for both Ghost and Phantom of the Opera, Vampirism

A/N: Phantom of the Opera AU! with (Vampire) Terzo as the Phantom, Sister Imperator (Mary Emeritus) as Madame Giry, Primo and Secondo as the owners of the Opera house, and Copia as the Opera Conductor. My Phantom!Terzo Design

The halls of the Opera house were alive with the sound of feet and bodies rushing around, with voices cutting through like a knife in butter. Shouts of stage directions and strings of curse words are the only things you can discern from the inside of your dressing room. It’s an hour before showing and you’re the lead soprano; not by choice really, you were an understudy to the previous girl but of course she had to fall ill a week before opening night. You knew the songs, as well as all the choreography, but you’ve only ever played minor parts or were a stagehand in other shows. If you were being honest, no amount of rehearsals could ever make you feel ready for this.

No matter what Signora Mary has told you of your talent and stage-worthy looks, you just can’t quite believe her. You have always been the understudy, the minor role, the one hidden away behind rows of other more important performers. Your father had passed away, leaving you alone in this world but not without promising you a Guardian Angel. You had yet to see or even hear this supposed Angel, your patience--and quite honestly, your faith--was wavering. Despite this tragedy, you had been taught theater from a young age, after Signora Mary took you in. It wasn't until your eighteenth birthday that you started performing at the Opera house. It’s been years since then but the fear of failing continues to creep in.

Your chest rises and falls in quick succession, and it doesn't take long before hot tears are streaming down your face. There was no Angel, no guardian or even a little guidance. Without your father you felt lost; there was nothing Signora could say to help, nothing anyone could say. The pressure building in your skull doesn't help as a stagehand knocks incessantly on your door. “Signorina,” He calls out in a shrill, hurried tone. “Signorina, are you in there? We need you on the stage!” Just hearing this makes you sob harder. I’m not prepared. I can’t do this. You try to calm yourself down, to stop the onslaught of insecure thoughts but nothing seems to work.

As you stare into your eyes in your reflection, you are unaware of the other set of eyes on you. The eyes on the other side of the mirror, the ones that seemed to be drawn to your form no matter where you were in the Opera house. He couldn’t help himself from watching, from following and longing. You were the only thing that had caught his attention within the last 30 years of his unofficial exile, rotting within the walls of this washed up Opera house. He had grown gaunt and ghastly over time, his clothes hung from his frame like sheets thrown over antique furniture. He was barely a person anymore, just a whisper of a long lost story roaming the halls. Yearning for something, anything really, that would bring him purpose again.

He remembers the fire, the way the embers rose from around the only home he’d ever known. A group of people, who dared called themselves carriers of God's will, had set fire to the Opera house in the hopes of killing the “blood-thirsty demon” that starred in many an Opera. He remembers when they had cornered him after a show one night, he remembers the way the ropes sliced into his wrist as they left him to burn in the catacombs of the Opera house. The fire scorched his skin but it could never kill him, even the starvation couldn't kill him. Nothing could, not since he’d been assaulted in a dark hallway of the Opera house when he was just a young boy. He wasn’t quite sure what he was, but he knew he wasn’t human anymore.

He could hear the blood pumping in your veins as he watched you from the other side of your dressing room mirror. He could smell that sweet aroma, the one that was unique to you and you only. The little breaths escaping your painted mouth were loud in the small, quiet space between your mirror and the walls he now stood in. He could see the desperation on your face, there were tears building in the corners of your eyes and you kept running your hands over the top of your hair- careful not to ruin its pristine style. He watches you with a wistful expression, remembering his first show as the leading man. He wonders if he should call out to you, what would you do? Would you scream and run like so many others before you, or would you listen to him? He knows the stories everyone spreads about him, the Phantom that haunts the Opera’s halls. A feeling of jealousy and anger settles into the pit of his stomach, people used to come from far and wide to listen to him sing! How could it be that now people are so afraid of him… Ah, yes, he had died.

He watches your little sniffling visage for a few more seconds before he silently clears his throat, it has been a very long time since he's spoken to anyone. A whisper leaves his full lips before he can stop it. “Oh, il mia tesorina…” He cannot quite recognize the voice that flows from his own mouth and it makes him sad for all the years that have been stolen from him, but not for long because the expression of surprise--perhaps, even wonder?-- that crosses your face at the sound of his voice takes his own breath away.

“A-angel?” Your pitiful little voice squeaks out, and it makes him chuckle.

“Heh, no, tesorina mia, an angel I am not.” He lets his hand come up to rest on the one-way mirror, just over where yours has now laid itself. You can't possibly see him, can you? Despite this fact, your eyes meet his almost eerily, and he begins to question if maybe it's himself who should be scared. For who could meet this Phantom's eyes if they were not an Angel themselves? “Why would you think such a thing, piccolina?”

You stare into the mirror, only meeting your own eyes but an underlying feeling of being watched by someone other than yourself permeates. When the voice calls out to you, you practically jump out of your own skin. The voice was heavy like lead but glided through the air like silk, it sent shivers down your body and made a home deep in the pit of your belly. Its resonance reminded you of your late fathers dying words, An Angel of Music… But when you call out to it, it dismisses your original thoughts.

“Why would you think such a thing, piccolina?” It calls out in question and you suddenly understand… Could this be The Phantom of the Opera? This realization makes your blood run cold. The same Phantom that has been appearing in front of performers and scaring the wits out of them just before a show, a telling omen of bad luck. The Phantom must notice the sudden strike of fear in your expression because he sighs behind the mirror, seemingly disappointed in your reaction. “I will leave if you wish, tesorina mia…”

You stay silent, unsure of what to say, and for a second you think he may have left already but his rumbling voice calls out once more. “I have heard you sing, and watched you perform, piccolina… You will do wonderfully tonight.” A new set of tears build up in your eyes, never before has a stranger complimented you so, it makes you wonder how long he’s seen you perform. Before you can ask just that, you hear him mumble something else in his mother tongue.

“Temo che tu sai l’angelo di noi, piccolina.” You are still learning Italian, as you and your father were not Italian, but you can pick out some of the things he said. It sounds like he's comparing you to an angel. Before you can thank him or even ask for his name, another sharp knock resounds from your dressing room door. This one is different though, one that is much more familiar to you.

“Ragazza! Esci subito, farai tardi!” The voice of Signora Mary reaches your ears from beyond the thick oak door that separates you. You can picture her pretty face scrunching up in that familiar scowl, age has done nothing but good for her looks. You have always admired her, for her presence and beauty, she is like no other you have realized as you've grown. While she can be shrill and tough, she has taken care of you and loved you like her own even though she didn't need to.

“Ah, Signora Mary…Vai avanti ora, piccolina.” The Phantom whispers to you, urging you to go to Signora. You stand up in a rush and hurriedly make your way to the door, heaving it open with one swing. As you predicted, she is scowling down at you but you can tell she's not really mad, just worried for the show and you, of course.

She holds your hand as you both jog through halls of stagehands, understudies, side characters and the like. You were the first to be on stage as rehearsed, but now there is no dread. Somehow, your interaction with the Phantom had quelled your insecurities and you felt more prepared than ever. As you stand, upstage and proud, the thick velvet curtains pull aside slowly and bright, warm lights shine down on you… There is no fear in your voice as the music quietly begins to drift in, you take a deep breath and begin to sing.

Think of me, Think of me fondly…

When we’ve said goodbye…

Remember me, Once in awhile

Please, Promise me you’ll try…

Poorly Translated Italian

Signora/Signorina: Madam, Miss

Il mia tesorina/Tesorina mia: My little darling

Piccolina: little one

Temo che tu sai l’angelo di noi, piccolina: I’m afraid you are the angel out of the two of us, little one.

Ragazza! Esci subito, farai tardi!: Girl! Come out now, you are going to be late!

Vai avanti ora: Run along now

#papa emeritus iii x reader #terzo emeritus x reader #vampire!terzo #the phantom of the opera au #the band ghost fanfic #the band ghost au #my writing #the band ghost

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feral-bunny31 · 8 months

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Ok ok ok ok so I’ve been reading a few fics/prompts of Danny Phantom having to declare war on the living (he’s ghost king ofc) and I’ve had an idea slowing forming in my head with each one I’ve read and it’s just how I’d envision that scene happening and I need to get it out so here goes (putting it below the cut bc idk how much I’m going to write) how it leads up to this, your choice if you see this and decide to write more/around it. Ok here goes:

They had 13 hours left of the 3 days King Phantom, High King of the Dead, Defeater of the Dark, Son of Time, The In-between, The Balance, The All Star, had given them. 13 hours. 13. The number of the dead, ironic really that that was the amount left.

He gave them 3 days to dismantle the Ghost Investigation Ward, to release their prisoners, his people. 13 hours left and they couldn’t get them to yield their ways. To give up and break up and release the dead they had tortured. King Phantom, no older than 18, gave them a warning and they were failing. War was coming and King Phantom warned them he and his infinite army of the lost souls of this plane and the in betweens were going to march.

It was his final choice to be made in his existence. His last option. His espoir perdu. He didn’t want to do this, he hated doing this but he had to and everyone saw it as his warning was broadcasted onto every possible screen in the United States.

2 hours. They had 2 hours left and they were giving up. Trying to get as many people to safety and shelter as they could. They needed to get the civilians to hide. Gods, there was only an hour left.

And as they watched the sky above Illinois- of all places- shatter and breaks like glass they saw the King emerge as the final seconds ended.

He was stone faced, no one behind him as he stood, floating in the shattered rift of the realms, the portal green. So so green. Swirling like hypnosis. Black armor draped over his body, a sword held tight, white knuckled at his side, a crown of burning ice drifting close to his head. His face was set, cold to those that see him that don’t know him. Expression hard except for the minute furrow of his brow, seen only by those that know him, that see who he is, white hair whipping softly around his face, casting shadows over his green eyes. Oh his eyes. They were the only thing able to show what was going through his mind. They held so much.

Years of experience, of pain, of loss, of suffering and sadness. Of struggling to be heard, to fight for his people and those of this earth. To keep the peace but save what he can in this destructive world. His eyes held so much words didn’t exist to tell what all they showed.

Calmly, slowly, deathly, his sword arm rose. Rose high above his head and fell. Fell until it was straight out, a signal that the war had begun.

Thousands of souls poured out of the portal, though they spared the citizens around not a single glance. They were vaguely human, some just skeletons, some races long since extinct. They only had eyes for the buildings that were beginning to scream. The voices of their prisoners rising until every single one of the Ghost Investigation Ward’s buildings rang with the rage and hurt and pain of those souls.

The army, still pouring from the crack between realms, only targeted those buildings. Flooding the United States searching for those buildings. Men in white suits poured out of the buildings. Raising weapons to the army and unloading everything they had, uncaring of the civilians they hit and the homes and jobs they destroyed, killed.

Then they noticed it, Phantom on the front lines, defending and protecting the civilians as he tore his way through the men in white, Agents they called themselves. Giant frozen Yetis came with him, tending to the wounded he had protected. They creates shelters and barriers of ice to take the wounded and heal them. Bandage them and cover the dead with soft sheets.

The army avoided and even blocked their enemies fire from hitting those shelters, from hitting the homes and jobs as best they could while still fighting. They were angry, rage filled that the Agent cared so little about civilians, all in the name of “getting rid of those ecto scum”

King Phantom and his army fought for 3 days, wiping out any Agent and their buildings that ever existed. Freed his people and made sure they returned safely to the realm of the dead, the Infinite Realms, before he and his army slowly worked on restoring the damaged buildings of the civilians. He gave the dead proper care, tending to the souls that had come back, sending them the portal after they said goodbye to their family.

And when all was said and done, he collapsed, beaten and bloody, into the arms of a god, a being that shifted ages, a clock shoved into his chest, was his chest, and sobbed. Sobbed for all the lives taken, even of the Agents. He didn’t want this, he didn’t want this death and destruction. He wanted peace, for his people and for the living. He was Balance! Why couldn’t he have brought balance peacefully? Why couldn’t he stop this from happening? He tried! Tried so hard to keep this from being a choice. He hated that he had to make this decision.

When everything was restored the best they could and wounded were healed and dead buried, King Phantom gathered his people, entered the rift between realms, and closed it. The one vision of the sky shattering like glass reversing and piecing itself back together, and the army of souls was gone.

Ok how’d I do? Thoughts? Comments? Concerns? Please let me know! I love the feedback

#danny phantom #danny fenton #king au #ghost king danny #possible dcxdp #my little brain worm finally formed its thought into this #enjoy :)

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candycandy00 · 1 year

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Break Time - A Shigaraki x Reader Fanfic

Summary: You're working as a waitress at a bar when Shigaraki comes in, leading to a wild hookup in the bathroom. Smut. 18+. Rough Sex. Any feedback at all would be deeply appreciated!

You didn’t notice when he walked in. Just another young man in a dark hoodie, he could have been anyone. But you noticed when he glanced up at you from his seat toward the back of the bar while you stood next to the table, ready to take his order. You knew who he was the moment your eyes met. You’d seen the pictures on the news, spread across social media, those scars along his lips, those piercing red eyes, the soft silver hair that peeked out from his hood. Sitting at the table, ordering a beer and some nachos, was Shigaraki Tomura, the current most dangerous villain.

You tried to play it cool. You didn’t want him to know you recognized him. It was obvious that he was trying to be discreet, maybe counting on the fact that this bar was basically a hole in the wall in a small rural area, where people mostly kept to themselves and minded their own business. Or maybe it was the fact that pictures of his face, without the creepy hand covering it, had only recently started circulating, so perhaps he thought most people wouldn’t be able to identify him.

Most people probably wouldn’t. But you were different. You’d been fascinated by Shigaraki from the moment he first appeared on the news, even with that hand hiding his face. There was something about him that intrigued you. And then, two weeks ago, pictures of his face started showing up online. When you saw that lovely face, those beautiful eyes, you thought you were looking at an angel. You had to keep reminding yourself that he’s a villain, that he’s killed innocent people. But you just couldn’t get that face out of your mind. Your phone was full of pictures of him, every one you could find online. If it was possible to be in love with someone you’d never met before, then you were in love with Shigaraki Tomura.

And now he was sitting right in front of you, just inches away.

With some effort, you get your racing heart to slow down. You write down his order and tell him you’ll bring it right out. He doesn’t reply so you walk away quickly, not wanting to linger and draw attention to yourself. When you take his beer and nachos to his table, you manage to keep your hands steady as you sit them in front of him. “Here you go,” you say in a cheery voice, trying to act normal. “Can I get anything else for you?”

He glances up at you again, and your breath nearly catches in your throat. Those eyes are so intense in person. You wish you could pull out your phone and take some photos of him, but you know that would be a terrible idea. He holds your gaze for just a moment before saying, “No, that’s all.”

It’s the first time you’ve heard his voice, and you love it. You get goosebumps along your arms. You desperately want to hear it again, so you try to continue this little conversation. “Alright. If you change your mind, let me know.” You smile brightly at him.

He looks away from you and to his plate as he mutters a quiet, “Thanks.”

You walk away, disappointed that you have no reason to talk to him more. You stand by the bar, hoping that he’ll need something and call you over. You find yourself staring at him, watching him eat, watching him hold the glass of beer without letting all four fingers touch it. Of course you know about his quirk. Everyone does. It sounded terrifying on the news, but even that couldn’t stop your fascination with him.

He suddenly looks toward the bar, toward you. The shock of his eyes on you causes you to hesitate before looking away. Did he notice you were staring? Does he know you recognize him? Will he use that terrifying quirk on you to silence you?

If so, then you might as well go for it. You could die tonight, a shy little virgin who never took a risk on anything in her life. Or you could die a woman who actually took a chance.

You grab a few napkins from under the bar and walk over to Shigaraki’s table. His eyes are on you every step of the way, and your heart is beating faster than ever. You drop the napkins on the table and smile at him again. “I thought you could use these. Nachos can get pretty messy.”

He looks mildly surprised, as if he wasn’t expecting you to say that. He picks up a napkin with his thumb and one finger and wipes at his mouth, even though there was nothing on it. You decide to try being a little playful.

“You missed a spot.” A lie.

He wipes his mouth again quickly and looks up at you.

You slide into the seat beside him and take one of the napkins from the table. “Here, let me,” you say, dabbing at the corner of his mouth.

He looks surprised by the gesture, his body seeming to tense up at your touch. Could it be that he’s not accustomed to being touched?

You blush and drop the napkin. “I’m so sorry! I wasn’t thinking.”

It’s his turn to stare at you. “Don’t worry about it,” he says as you stand up.

You take a deep breath. It’s now or never. Take the chance. You face him and meet his eyes. “Look, I’ve never done anything like this before in my life, but… I think you’re really hot. I get a break in twenty minutes. Do you wanna hang out?”

His eyes widen slightly. Whatever he expected you to say was clearly not this. You think you catch a hint of a blush on his pale cheeks. He looks away from you and asks, “Are you joking?”

“Not even a little bit,” you answer. “But feel free to turn me down. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I’m sorry if I offended you.”

He looks back up at you again, studying your face. You can feel your cheeks burning. Your first time making a move on a guy, and it’s Shigaraki fucking Tomura. A guy who could and probably would murder you in seconds. You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until he speaks.

“I’ll think about it.”

You exhale. This is the most nervous you’ve ever been, but there’s a certain excitement, a thrill, to all of this. You leave his table without another word, too embarrassed to say anything else. Back at the bar, you watch the clock tick down the minutes until your break. Shigaraki has long since finished with his beer and food, and should probably have left by now. But he’s still here. Does that mean he’s going to take you up on your offer? And you said ‘hang out’, but what did you even mean by that? Your break only lasts half an hour. What could you possibly do in that amount of time?

Finally, the twenty minutes are up. You slip off your apron and give a meaningful glance at Shigaraki before heading into the restroom. You want to check your makeup and hair before going back out. You want to look your best after all. You stand in front of the mirror above the sink, looking over your reflection. “I can’t believe I did that,” you mutter.

Suddenly the restroom door opens and, in the mirror, you see Shigaraki step in. You whirl around to face him, suddenly very afraid. Has he come in here to kill you? Your heart sinks when he reaches down and locks the door, the sound of the thick metal deafening in the small restroom. You look at him pleadingly.

He steps closer to you, the hood pulled so low that you can barely see his eyes. “So how long is your break?” he asks.

You freeze. Why is he asking that? If he’s going to kill you, what does it matter how long your break is? “Uh, thirty minutes,” you manage to squeak out.

“Then I guess we better hurry,” he replies.

This is it. He’s going to kill you. He’s going to turn you into a pile of dust and blood. He reaches out his hand toward you, and you decide in that moment to not turn away from him. To look into those eyes until your last moment. At least you’ll go out looking at something beautiful.

You wait for his hand to close over your forehead, or your throat, or wherever he decides to strike. But instead, three of his fingers touch your shoulder lightly and pull you closer to him. Before you can sort through your confusion, Shigaraki leans forward and kisses your neck.

Huh? What? Why is Shigaraki Tomura kissing you?

Your mind races. Does he plan to fool around with you before killing you? He didn’t seem like that type of guy, but you don’t really know him at all. You lean back and look at his face, trying to discern something from his expression. It’s blank, as usual.

“This is what you want, right?” he asks, a tiny hint of a smirk on his lips.

That’s when it dawns on you. He assumed that by ‘hanging out’, you meant ‘hook up’. He thought you were asking him for sex. And he accepted! When that realization hits your brain, you’re suddenly aware of the fact that you want him. You want this man, badly. Right now. And judging by his actions, he wants you too. You’ve never done anything even remotely like this. To Shigaraki, this is clearly a random hook up. But to you it’s so much more. He can’t possibly know how much more.

“Yes, this is definitely what I want,” you say, almost breathless.

He kisses you, fast and almost rough, his hands moving over you, carefully not placing all five fingers on your skin. You should be worried about his hands. You should be scared absolutely shitless to have this man’s hands anywhere near you. But all you can focus on is his hungry mouth on yours, the feel of his surprisingly firm body pressing against your chest. Ah well. He’s had this quirk all his life, right? He must know how to avoid using it.

His tucks three fingers from each hand under the hem of your snugly fitting shirt and pulls it up, revealing your rather plain bra. You curse yourself for not wearing something prettier, but who knew something like this would happen? But if he’s disappointed, he doesn’t show any sign of it. In fact he barely seems to notice the bra before using the same maneuver to pull it up, causing your ample breasts to bounce free below it.

You blush crimson. Only one other guy has seen your bare chest, and that was in high school, when your then boyfriend demanded to see your tits or he would break up with you. He saw the goods, then broke up with you a week later anyway. Thankfully, that’s as far as you went with him. Or anyone, for that matter. Instinctively, you look away, fighting the urge to cover yourself with your arms.

Shigaraki just stares. He’s stopped touching you, probably sensing your discomfort. There’s a question in his eyes.

Finally, you speak, deciding to be honest. “I, uh…. I’ve never done this before,” you admit, feeling incredibly embarrassed.

There’s that subtle look of surprise again. He looks away from you for a moment and says in a quiet voice, “Me too.”

What does that mean? He’s never hooked up in a public restroom before? Never hooked up with a random waitress he just met? Or… could it be?

You decide to be more specific. “I’ve never… had sex before.”

Unfortunately, Shigaraki doesn’t elaborate on his earlier comment. He just nods and says, “Ah, okay.”

You almost break out the cliche “please be gentle” comment, but stop yourself. Shigaraki Tomura is not a gentle person. He’s a villain. You knew this all along. But do you even want him to be gentle?

He waits another moment, as if giving you a chance to back out. When you look at him with clear desire in your eyes, he suddenly pushes your back against the cold tile wall beside the sink. He presses his palms into your breasts, not letting even a single finger touch them, while lightly biting the soft skin of your neck.

Your breathing gets quicker, your mouth draping open and your eyes sliding closed. You’ve never been more turned on in your life. You want to pull his hoodie off, to see his bare torso, but he hasn’t made a move to remove any of his clothing and you’re not sure if you should try it. What if he has a lot of scars that he’s not eager to show off?

He slowly crouches down until he’s eye level with your waist. He looks you in the eyes as he unzips your skirt and lets it fall to the floor around your ankles. Then he hooks two fingers into the waistband of your panties and hesitates another moment. If you want him to stop, this is the time. But you don’t want him to stop. You’re embarrassed and terrified but more than anything else, you don’t want him to stop.

You close your eyes as he slips the panties down your hips and to your ankles, then reaches down to pull both skirt and panties away from your feet. Now all that’s left on you is a pair of sandals and your shirt and bra that have been pushed up, leaving you totally exposed. Heat burns your face, and you imagine you’re as red as a tomato. You glance at his face, trying to figure out if he likes what he sees or not, but his expression is as difficult to read as ever.

He stands up and lifts his hoodie a few inches, just enough for him to unbutton his jeans. That small glimpse of his skin around his navel is enough to drive you wild. Then he unzips his pants and pulls his cock out.

It’s hard, which gives you a small boost of confidence. He must find your body attractive. It’s also bigger than you expected. You’ve never seen one in person before, but somehow you assumed it would be smaller. You’re struck by the sudden urge to put it in your mouth, but you’ve never done that before and you’re not sure if you’d be any good at it. Would he be turned off if you gave a clumsy blowjob?

What the hell. You’ve come this far.

You drop down to your knees and reach out a shaky hand to gently grasp his cock. You look up at his face, and it’s still unchanged. You’d die to know what he’s thinking right now, but he’s not going to give you a clue. You pull your hair back behind your shoulder and lean in, wrapping your lips around his cock. You hear a sharp intake of breath and glance up. Shigaraki’s expression hasn’t changed much, but his eyes are a little wider, his teeth slightly visible above his bottom lip. You take that as a good sign and begin moving your lips along his length, back and forth, then you extend your tongue and run it over his tip. You remember your best friend from college telling you to treat a man’s dick like you would a popsicle. You hope she knew what she was talking about as you alternate between licking and sucking.

You tilt your head a bit so that you can see Shigaraki’s face. He’s staring at you with something like awe, as if he’s watching a magician perform an amazing trick. You blush but keep going, not wanting him to stop looking at you that way. Several minutes later, he draws his head back and inhales a sudden breath, and cums directly into your mouth. No warning, no asking if it was okay. You’re shocked by the flood of sticky liquid filling your mouth, sliding down your throat. You’re also not certain what you’re supposed to do. Spit it out? Swallow it? You decide to swallow without taking his cock out of your mouth. Your tongue still swirls around him while your throat works to take in every drop of his cum. When you finally pull away, he’s half hard again.

Is it your imagination, or is he breathing harder? His hood has fallen back, revealing a mess of silvery hair. God, he’s gorgeous.

You stand back up, still pinned in close to the wall by his body. He steps even closer, shoving one hand between your legs and making you instantly tense up in fear as you remember his quirk again. But he only uses two fingers to run along your slit, then slips them inside. It only takes a second for him to find your clit, his fingers a little too rough as they rub the tender flesh, scraping his nails across it. You make a little yelping sound and resist the urge to push his hand away, because despite being a little too rough, it feels good.

The pleasure spirals up into you, making you feel weak. Your legs are shaky, and you’re afraid you might collapse. The sensations are so intense that you almost want to get away from his hand, if only for a moment to catch your breath. But your back is against the wall and his fingers are merciless. You’re no stranger to touching yourself, usually while thinking of the very man who is in front of you right now, but doing it yourself is different. You can control the pressure, the speed, the intensity. Having someone else in control of that is scary but thrilling.

Finally, a powerful orgasm washes over you, leaving you shuddering and holding onto his shoulders for support. He withdraws his hand and examines it under the fluorescent lights of the restroom, and you can see the sticky fluid shimmering on his fingers. You wish the lights weren’t so damn bright in here. This is mortifying.

His eyes flick up to meet yours and he gives you the strangest look, the corners of his mouth lifting into a grin that bares his teeth. It’s the first time you’ve seen him smile, and you’re not sure if it’s sexy or horrifying. He seems a little different, maybe even a little smug, as if just realizing the effect he has on you.

He’s fully hard again, you notice, just as he lifts you up by your thighs and slams your back against the wall. Before you can even call out in surprise, you feel his entire cock shove itself inside you, all the way in on the first thrust. You gasp and then let out a whimper of pain, tears stinging your eyes. You didn’t know it would hurt this bad. You feel like something is ripping down there, and you feel what you can only assume is blood trickle down, wetting his cock even more than your arousal. He pulls out and thrusts in again, so deep and rough that you think he might break you. You scrunch your eyes shut and wrap your arms around him, burying your wet face in his neck.

He pushes you back to look at your face. “Does it hurt?” he asks, without stopping his violent thrusts.

“Yes,” you manage to choke out, “a lot. But… I like it.” And you do. You like it so much that it scares you. You never knew you were into this sort of thing, that you would enjoy being fucked so roughly, even on your first time.

“Good,” he says back with that eerie grin of his, red eyes shining. You don’t know if he means it’s good that it hurts or it’s good that you like it, and you don’t ask.

He continues thrusting, your whole body jolting each time. He’s so deep inside you that feel like the two of you are going to meld into one person. You want to feel every inch of him. He’s still wearing that slasher smile, watching your face, and you can’t imagine what sort of expressions you’re making as you pant and make little cries of pain and pleasure, tears still leaking down your cheeks.

Then, all at once, his gaze turns sharp and the smile disappears. “You know who I am, don’t you?” he asks, never dropping his rhythm of thrusts.

You look at him in shock, a sudden stab of fear in your gut. He knows you recognized him. He knows you could call the police, or the heroes, or even the media. For a moment, you can’t speak.

Shigaraki gives a particularly rough thrust, making your whole body bounce up and slam back into the wall. “Answer,” he says, his voice low.

“Y-yes. I know who you are,” you say.

“And you still wanted to fuck me?” There’s an almost mocking tone to his voice.

You look him in the eyes. “Yes.”

“Why?”

You wince as he continues thrusting. You don’t know if you’ll be able to walk tomorrow. “I… I’m a fan…”

“A fan of me?”

“Yes. I… collect pictures of you… on my phone.”

The grin returns to his face. “And what do you do with those pictures?”

Heat flushes your face again. “I… I just look at them.”

His grin is all teeth. His eyes look wild. “Is that all you do with them?”

Your breathing is ragged. You’re close to climaxing, you can feel it. You wrap your arms around him again, and this time he doesn’t push you back. “Ah… I… touch myself… while looking at them…”

You can’t believe you just admitted something so embarrassing. But you’re riding a wave of pleasure and fear and heat and you’re not thinking clearly.

Shigaraki chuckles softly against your ear, and you can’t see his face for his hair. You wonder what sort of expression he’s wearing now. His hands are on your thighs, only the pinky finger of each not touching you. The thought of the danger, of all the scary things he could do to you, pushes you over the edge. You cum, moaning loudly and collapsing against him, hiding your face in his hair. He gives a few more thrusts before he whispers, “Do you want me to pull out or…?”

“No! Don’t pull out!” You practically scream it. You want him to cum inside you. You want to feel it. Consequences be damned. Besides, you’re pretty sure this is a safe day.

Seconds later, you do feel it. You feel every drop shoot inside you. The two of you remain still for a few moments, pressed against the wall. Then, in a surprisingly gentle manner, he eases you down to let your feet touch the floor. Your whole body is trembling as you try to regain your balance while holding onto one of his arms. He steps back a bit to look you up and down.

You look down yourself and see the trickles of blood and cum dripping down your legs and making an obscene puddle on the floor. Shigaraki’s eyes seem to be glowing as he takes the image in. When you feel steady, you let go of his arm and pull your bra and shirt down, then head into the only stall to clean up a little. When you step out, Shigaraki is handing you your panties, his face having returned to his former unreadable expression. You put them on sheepishly, feeling shy all of a sudden.

As he picks up your skirt from the floor, your phone drops out of a pocket and he catches it with his thumb and finger. He reaches you the skirt but keeps the phone. As you step into it and pull it up, you glance over to see that he’s holding the phone up in a very familiar way, and then the sound of the camera.

Did he just take a selfie? With your phone?

He tosses the phone to you and grins again. “Thought you might want a new picture.”

You quickly open the photos app and look at the newest image. Sure enough, there he is, grinning at you from the screen. Your eyes light up as you look back to him. “Thanks!”

He blinks, seemingly caught off guard by your genuine happiness to have a picture of him. He shrugs and looks away. “You’re welcome.”

The two of you head out the door of the restroom, and you notice the clock on the wall. You’re late! You took way too long for your break! You sigh and head toward the bar to get your apron. “Oh man, my boss is gonna kill me.”

Shigaraki glances at the clock too as he heads toward the bar’s exit. Then he looks at you over his shoulder and says, “I’ll drop back in sometime. This place has great nachos.”

He gives a little wave as he disappears through the door, leaving you absolutely stunned. And even though your boss spends ten minutes chewing you out for taking an extra long break, you can’t stop yourself from smiling the rest of the night.

#shigaraki tomura #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x you #shigaraki #shigaraki fanfic #bnha #bnha fanfic #bnha smut

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ghostofskywalker · 10 months

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I saw you wanted a crosshair request, so what about bickering that turns into a kiss?

i went a little overboard with this one, thank you SO much for the prompt! i hope you love it as much as i do <3

words: 728

@clonexreaderbingo square: bounty hunter

In the Heat of Battle

clone troopers masterlist

“Crosshair, don’t you dare take my kill!” Your voice echoed sharply through the private comm channel, sounding angrier than you ever had before. It was more likely a product of the unexpected attack and the palpable vein of unresolved tension between the two of you than any actual resentment or anger, but it didn’t matter. You had made your desires known, and you expected him to listen.

Tucked away from the heat of the battle, Crosshair watched through his scope as you and your vibroblade absolutely desiccated any droid stupid enough to step in your path, and he knew that you had one goal: severing the wiring of the tactical droid hiding behind the throng of blundering B-1s.

It had been a learning curve for his squad, getting used to working with a bounty hunter like you, an outsider in all senses of the word. You were often proud to a fault, having worked by yourself for your entire life, and you were technically his commanding officer, since you were the lead on this particular assignment. He also had to grapple with feelings he had never experienced before, an attraction to you that he couldn’t quite explain.

But you should have known at this point that he never really followed the rules anyway, and by the time you stepped up to the center of the droid command, every single machine there had perfectly singed holes in their head. The battle was over, and the Bad Batch had emerged victorious.

He didn’t see you again until much later, when the ship was hurtling through hyperspace. He was walking down the hallway towards where the rest of his brothers were gathered in the cockpit when he felt someone grip his arm. Suddenly his back was against the wall, and you had a venomous look on your face.

“I told you that was my kill, didn’t I?”

Anyone else on the ship probably would have apologized, or maybe none of his brothers would have been stupid enough to get themselves into this situation in the first place, but of course he just had to stoke the flames. “I did what was best for the mission, and I don’t accommodate for people’s egos.”

“How about your ego then?” you asked. He knew that you were never going to back down, and that predictability was almost a comfort. “Even though all you do is hide away from the action.”

Okay, that comment pushed a few buttons. “I’m the most valuable member of this team and you know it.”

“Maybe to someone else, but I don’t take kindly to cowards, no matter their skillset.”

“You really think I’m a coward?” Now he was getting a little heated, as your piercing stare continued unwaveringly.

“Are you not one? Because if that was the case, I would need you to prove it.”

His next move was lightning fast, pulling you close to him and maneuvering so that it was you who now had their back against the wall, not him. His calloused hands found your face and his lips sealed to yours in a searing kiss.

Every ounce of emotion he felt towards you, both positive and negative, came out at this very moment, and you responded with just as much as passion. Your hands at his waist had the effect of a drug to him, and he deepened the kiss, not caring that the rest of the team was less than ten paces away and could walk into the hallway at any second.

When he had to finally pull apart for air, your lips looked thoroughly kissed and the expression on your face was one of pure lust. “Do you still think me a coward?” he asked tauntingly, his lips only inches away from returning to the place they so desperately wanted to be, against yours, savoring every passionate noise you made.

“Maybe,” you said, your breathless voice giving away your true feelings. “But I think I need a little more convincing.”

“That can certainly be arranged," he whispered as he took your hand and pulled you in the direction of his bunk.

Hunter had probably heard the entire exchange, but at this moment Crosshair didn’t care one bit. This was something he had been thinking about from the first moment you stepped on board, and he was not going to let it pass by.

- the end -

#CFB2023 #tbb crosshair x you #tbb crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair #tbb crosshair x gender neutral reader #crosshair x reader #crosshair x you #the bad batch fanfiction #the bad batch x reader #clone trooper x reader

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mixelation · 8 months

Text

wrote some reborn au. takes place after the tori v itachi fight

i decided iwa has a bunch of tunnels connecting everything !!

The little makeshift clinic set up in the holding wing of the stadium was quiet. Tori sat patiently on a cot while one medic wordlessly spread healing chakra over the burn on her shoulder; the other medic was organizing ampules of clear liquid at table, the glass gently clinking together.

Across from her, the poor fifteen year old who’d drawn Deidara was unconscious in another cot. Kurotsuchi was nowhere to be seen, probably because Itachi had beat her without harming a hair on her head. The latter was definitely more embarrassing than ending up in a hospital, but personally, Tori would take a blow to the ego over cracked ribs any day.

Maybe she should have just let Itachi take her out with genjutsu. It wasn’t like she was going to pass, anyway. Then again, even Itachi’s less bad genjutsu were really scary… and she’d wanted to test her new seal…

The quiet of the room was broken by Kushina slamming the door open.

“Tori you did so good, you know,” she proclaimed, unconscious teenager be damned. A noise like a muffle tea kettle escaped the medic’s throat. “Your taijutsu has improved so much. I’m really proud.”

Proud…? When was the last time anyone had been proud of Tori? She didn’t know what to do with that, and she felt her cheeks go hot against her will.

Kushina didn’t say much out loud about the four-part seal Tori had painted on herself, but she did shoo away the medic so she could help Tori take it off. The medic looked affronted by Kushina’s bossiness, and then scandalized when the seal on her burned shoulder turned out to have four matching ones.

“You did all that to your genin?” the medic half-squawked.

Kushina paused, a brush hovering over Tori’s shoulder.

“Well, she designed it herself,” she said, like that excused it. A grin cracked on her face. “Hey, make sure you get that to the judges, you know. I don’t just hand my students fuinjutsu.”

Only two of the four seals had to be deactivated to break the random fluctuations in chakra, which is all they needed for the next leg of their mission.

“We should grab some snacks before Itachi and Deidara duke it out,” Kushina said loudly as she led Tori out of the clinic. Both medics voiced annoyed protests. “Oh, come on, she’ll just come back after the show, you know!”

Tori let Kushina take lead. She led her down two flights of stairs, babbling about how there was a ramen stand just a couple blocks away that she was craving. As far as Tori knew, Kushina had not liked that stand and complained in length about Iwa having bad ramen in private, but it was established fact to anyone observing them that Kushina was obsessed with ramen.

“Sensei, ramen is hardly a snack,” Tori whined as Kushina pretended to look confused as she navigated them through the maze of tunnels under Iwa.

“Nonsense,” Kushina told her. “You need nutrients after your fight, you know.”

“Sensei, ramen barely has any nutrients. You told me you got scurvy when you were my age from not eating anything else.”

“Um, no, I said I nearly got scurvy from cup ramen. Restaurant ramen is completely different–”

It was easy to fake getting lost under Iwa, deep in the passages anyone could access. The tunnels were creepily empty, and they only passed two other people, an older civilian couple rushing in the direction of the stadium. Almost everyone was currently gathered to watch children try and kill each other.

The hardest part of this mission, they had both assumed, would be the transition to the ninja-only tunnels and then not getting caught in the prison complex. The transportation seal itself should be simple enough to plant.

They never got that far. They were attacked first.

The tunnel suddenly rose up in front of them, the stone cobbles flipping and stacking on top of themselves in a complex Earth jutsu. The path in front of them was sealed within seconds.

“Er,” Kushina said, pausing, but the jutsu was already repeating itself behind them. Iwa-nin after Iwa-nin peeled themselves from the walls, crowing Tori and Kushina. “Hey, what the hell?”

All the ninja were wearing gas masks. This was very, very bad.

“As an invited guest of the Tsuchikage,” Kushina started, her hair twitching at her side in building anger, “I demand an explanation.”

Tori felt dizzy. She wasn’t sure if this was nerves from their mission taking a sudden nosedive, or whatever thing the Iwa-nin needed gas masks for.

No color, no odor, able to be filtered, Tori thought, mentally sorting through all the gasses and aerosolized poisons it could be. They’re covering their skin, so it might be absorbed that way even if I hold my breath…

Had they already been caught, before they’d even gotten close? How?

The masked ninja offered no explanation. They didn’t even move to attack, although each and every one of them was tensed for a fight.

Tori felt her knees going weak. Somehow all her limbs seemed to be getting weaker.

“Chakra poisoning…?” Kushina wondered out loud. “Alright, I think it’s fair to call this self-defense.”

Kushina grabbed Tori, pulling her protectively into her chest, and chaos broke out instantaneously. Chains erupted from Kushina back, ensnaring and pinning down ninja in the claustrophobic hallway. Six chains shot right through the walls cutting off the passage. Tori was aware of weapons being thrown or swung at them, clinking loudly off the mass of chains and ricocheting into the narrow tunnel.

The cobblestone walls rebuilt themselves as quickly as Kushina knocked them down, countering her attempts to vent the space. More ninja crawled out of the walls and ceiling, pushing and crowding them. Sharp blades slipped between the chains more than once, knicking the both of them.

“Sensei,” Tori started, fingers fumbling for scrolls. “I can–”

“They almost definitely want me, you know,” Kushina huffed, breath heavy. Kushina had a lot of chakra to poison, but even she had limits. “Run.”

A chain wrapped itself around Tori’s waist and then shot her towards one of the cobblestone walls at a terrifying speed. Three more chains broke the wall in front of her, and Tori had to hold up her arms to protect herself from rubble. They she was flying down the open passage they’d walked through earlier, which felt almost cavernous with the sudden lack of other bodies.

The chakra suddenly evaporated, turning from the most solid thing Tori had ever touched to gold dust. Tori was flung forward, and she only barely managed to get her weak legs under her to land, which turned into a sad, uncontrolled roll directly into a wall.

Tori was on her feet immediately, running as fast as she could in the opposite direction of Kushina and the mass of Iwa-nin. The cobblestone wall had already prepared itself, and the passageway was eerily quiet.

No one appeared to be following her. Should she go back? She couldn’t abandon Kushina.

But what was she going to do, by herself with no plan? It would be smarter to go get Itachi and Deidara’s help.

She found a staircase up to the surface and sprinted up it. Her chakra was sluggish and unmoldable, and her muscles weren’t quite right because of it. But she got herself up the stairs, and then she forced herself into a false calm as she walked back to the stadium.

She couldn’t do a henge in this state. She pulled the tie on her braid and brushed her hair over her shoulders to hide her face. She hunched her shoulders and kept her eyes on her feet. I’m a shy little girl, I’m timid and civilian and harmless…

It wasn’t a good enough disguise to hide her from anyone actively looking. But it would keep anyone else from noticing her, she hoped. The guard at the gate to the stadium certainly barely looked at her.

The fight between Deidara and Itachi was in full swing, and it was about as loud as she’d expected. When she entered the stands, most people were standing, screaming in excitement. In a better mood, Tori would have contemplated that whatever bad blood ws between their villages, Iwa’s citizens still enjoyed seeing two top-tier ninja beat the shit out of each other as much as the next village.

Itachi and Deidara’s role was to draw this fight out as long as possible, and draw it out they did. There were too many ninja in the audience and crawling around the stadium for Tori to even think about signaling for them to wrap it up. Instead, she sat there in silence, forcing her hands to not knot themselves in her shirt in anxiety.

She needed to calm down. She couldn’t do anything if she didn’t keep her head on straight. Why was she getting so bent out of shape, anyway? Either Kushina was already dead, or they would hold her hostage. There was no point in letting herself get bent out of shape until after the crisis was over. Tori had thought herself accomplished at the ancient shinobi art of stomping down panic.

She said she was proud of me, Tori thought over and over.

#reborn au #my writing

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dailyadventureprompts · 2 years

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Tableskills: The Proactive DM Voice

One of the most fundamental lesions I learned over the course of becoming a great DM was that it was my job to push the story forward, not my players. When I was younger I was terrified of taking any agency upon myself for fear of railroading my group, thinking that my job was merely to read out prepared text and design a playground for my players to explore as they saw fit. Needless to say, no matter how much planning i did or how big I made my campaign world it never made my party any more energized, instead bleeding out their attention until they became listless and the group/campaign dissolved.

Once I made the change to DM driven play, things changed almost instantly. My once distracted players became excited collaborators, looking to steer the runaway engine that was my narrative. Where as before they were directionless, having infinite shallow options, they were now focused on the road ahead of them, trying to dodge upcoming hurdles while reacting to the unexpected ones.

This change took some getting used to, but became most evident in how I narrated my games, cutting down on extraneous calls for rolls, chaining together scenes until a big finale at the end of the session, using my infinite power as narrator to push receptive players into interesting situations that progressed both the story and their character arc. Over time I began to think of these changes and a bunch of others as “proactive DM voice”, a skill that I think players and dungeonmaters alike could benefit from learning.

Lets look at an example, lifted from one of the very first modules I ever ran: The party stands at the edge of a tremendously large fissure, and has to lower themselves a hundred or more feet down to a ledge where they’ll be ambushed by direrats. You could run this in a rules literal sense: reading out the prepared text then waiting for the party to come up with a solution, likely dallying as they ask questions. Have them make athletics checks to descend the ropes, risk the possibility of one of them dying before the adventure ever begins. Then you do it two or three more times as they leapfrog down the side of the canyon, wasting what was perhaps half an hour of session time before you even got to any of the fun stuff.

Or you could get proactive about it:

Securing your ropes as best you can, you belay over the side of the fissure, descending down in a measured, careful pace aiming for the most stable looking outcrop of rock, still a hundred or so feet above the canyon’s base. A few minutes and about two thirds of the way through your decent [least athletic PC] looks like they’re struggling, their hands are coated in sweat and they can feel unfamiliar muscles burning in complaint. I need [PC] to make me an athletics check

Rather than waiting for the players and the dice to make a story for me, I took the extra step in my prep time to think of something interesting that might happen while they’re venturing through this section of the map. I specifically designed things so that happenstance wouldn’t kill off one of my heroes, but they might end up damaged and in a perilous situation should the fates not favour them that particular moment.

Likewise, this planning has let me prepare a number of different angles that I could use to prepare the next scene: with an injured player ambushed by multiple rats while their allies dangle a few rounds away or with the party saving their friend and descending together, too much of a threat for the rats to tackle all at once, leading them to stalk the party through future encounters.

This is already getting a bit long, but for those interested in more ways you can adopt a proactive DM voice, I’ll give more examples under the cut

A lot of people talk about “the Mercer effect” new people getting into d&d and begin disappointed that the group they’re playing with aren't like critical role. A lot of creators have talked about how to combat the Mercer effect, but regardless of props or budget, I think the greatest difference between your average d&d table and what you see on shows like Critical role, Adventure Zone, or Dimension 20 is the fact that in those streamed games EVERYONE at the table is using a proactive voice, where as it seems to be a skill that most players and dms never pick up on.

Think about it this way, nearly every streaming show is made up of professional entertainers: Voice actors, comedians, people who understand that time is a finite resource and a lack of momentum can kill their performance. That’s why listening to them play is such a treat, everything they say or do is designed to cut down on dithering and give the greatest comedic or dramatic punch in the shortest amount of time.

You start doing the same when you start using a proactive voice at your table, leaving all the unfun number crunching and arbitrary restrictions aside in favour of telling jokes or modulating the dramatic tension, a habit that your party will pick up over time as you maintain it, which will lead to snappier play and more getting done in a single session.

Momentum is key: you always want to be pressing forward towards the meat of your session, towards the next fun npc or dramatic setpiece, and as such you need to give your party the idea that they’re rolling towards a destination. The trick is that after a few plot relevant bits of setup, this destination is almost always a bad one, and if the party doesn’t act on the opportunities you’ve given them, they’re they’re going to end up hurdling towards disaster.

After your party has had their fun ask “ Is there anything you want to do before____?” rather than “ is there anything you want to do?” This gives your party a sense of urgency and forces them to act on their priorities, rather than waiting for them to decide and letting all the tension bleed out.

Be Obvious: you want players to know who and what within a scene is a means for gaining forward narrative progress, so whenever you narrate, be sure to add a liberal dose of scene hooks in with your background description.

The reason that players dither is because they’re not sure what the expectations for a scene are or what they can do: Try to end every one of your descriptions with a prompt for action from your players, restating the problem they’re facing, a few options that they might use to solve it, a reminder of what might happen if they fail. This also helps get past some players who’ve been trained by anxiety bad dms to expect a trap everywhere.

When in doubt, cut it out: unless you have interesting material prepared for a scene, it’s a good idea to skip over a length of time and get to the next bit of content. There’s no reason to detail a party’s night of sleep in the inn after the first night, nor days of travel that aren't particularly dangerous or exceptional. Move them forward unless you feel like one of your players wants to use their downtime as a backdrop for RP

Just let them do it: One of the quickest ways to speed up your game and get things flowing is to cut out extraneous rolls: if your party figures out who the mystery killer is or identifies the type of monster the villagers only saw a hint of, don’t have them roll to see if their characters figured it out. The same goes for solving a puzzle, or correctly suspecting something might be trapped. Instead give them a gold star for being clever little goblins and move on, rather than locking crucial plot development behind a dc. I take any excuse I can to GIVE my party information, relating it to their character backstory or their time spent in a certain region. Not only does it make things faster, it makes them more immersed.

They need to be allowed to mess up: When you cut down on extranious rolls, it means those left behind are important, and need to have consequences. The same goes for the party’s decisions, which need to have real and lasting consequences (good or bad). The first time the party realizes they dropped a plot hook and someone they knew suffered for it, they’ll suddenly understand their responsibility to the world they’re adventuring in and the story they’re a part of.

Give your party regular breaks: While it’s important to maintain a steady momentum, sometimes it’s a good idea to let your party wander a bit, especially if you’re about to head into a longer section of action like a dungeon delve or a mystery. Give them an idea when this time will end (a crowning event at a festival, the king’s courier will get back to them in about three days, bad weather rolling in) and then ask if there’s a special way they’d like to spend their time. This designated space to goof off or go on tangents is actually the best way to get stuff out of your more RP shy players, as they’re often self conscious about taking the spotlight away from others.

I hope this gives you what you need to start making the switch over to proactive Dm voice, but if you want more inspiration pay attention to some liveplay artists, especially those who know they’ve got a limited amount of time on camera to get things done. Imitation is not only the sincerest form of flattery, it’s also one of the best ways to improve your skills.

#tableskills #dm tips #DM advice #DM tools #dm toolbox #narration #voice acting #critical role #dimension 20 #taz #Dungeons and Dragons #dnd #dm starterpack

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voxmortuus · 9 months

Note

Hi! It’s me the anon requesting for the dark fic about Alexander.. and honestly, write whatever makes you inspired about haha it’s up to you. He played a character in the stand as Randall Flagg so maybe something with that character?! Thank you 😍

⇘ PAIRING:⇙ Randall Flagg x F!Reader ⇘ UNIVERSE:⇙ The Stand ⇘ WORD COUNT:⇙ 4.5k ⇘ SUMMARY:⇙ All your life you've been seeing this man with a smiley faced pin in your dreams, well the end has come, and you're left with a choice. Tired, hungry, thirsty, and alone, you decide to take the kindness of one Randall Flagg under the impression that it's what you wanted. Agreeing to stay things quickly take a turn for the worst and you are forced to become his incubator. ⇘ TRIGGER WARNINGS:⇙ None of these trigger warnings are in order, so just read them and remember then as you read this. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT | Talk of Murder | Manipulation | Persuading for reader to keep drinking | Sexual coercion and Rape | Slapping both reader and reader slapping him | Spitting | Fighting Reader | Unprotected PiV | Choking Reader | Slamming Reader against glass window & floor | Hinted that reader has a violent past | Reader's face gets held down by boot | Abuse to Reader | Threatening Reader's life | Threatening Reader w/knife | Stabbing Reader | Blood & Blood Play | Captive Reader | Reader gets chained to bed | Reader is forced into breeding | Forced Impregnation | Forced groping | Forced inebriation | Forced Threesome | Unknowing drugging of reader | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ⇘ NOTES:⇙ I hope this brings you some joy. Also I'm sorry if this is just horribly written. ⇘ DIVIDER CREDIT:⇙ @nyxvuxoa ⇘ IN STORY DIVIDER:⇙ @voxmortuus ⇘ IMAGE CREDIT:⇙ @punksimulationn ⇘ TAGGING:⇙ @lenareallylovestoread ⇘ My Master Masterlist ⇙

It was a long walk from Winthrop, WA. Not to mention utterly trying, at this point, you were no stranger to death, let alone having to protect yourself. This outbreak made people go bananas. From people wanting to kill you, rape you, likely wanting to eat you, to those trying to tell you to seek out Mother Abigail, and those telling you to seek out Randall, you couldn't tell what was up who was down, and where was up. This outbreak has sent people into this pit of what? Craziness. Destruction. There were times when it wasn't so bad. Peaceful even. No cars speeding, no one screaming, no violence, just you, and nature.

After walking for almost three weeks, you're exhausted, damn near the point of tears, you're hungry and thirsty, and your body aches in places you didn't know could ache. There's this part of you that just wants to quit. But then you remember the dreams, that yellow smiley face pin, the blonde man that wanted to give you a bed to sleep in, a tall glass of ice water. He was kind to you, all he wanted you to do was to find him. Something about you being special. But why were you special? You were just some girl living in Winthrop, Washington... what made you so special that this mysterious man has been watching you. But the more you sit there, the more you think, the more you realize he's been watching you for a long time. Since you were a little girl. You remember the pin. His denim outfit, and the sound of his boots.

Wiping your face from the tears you look around, seeing more signs telling you who to follow and how far to go. Sniffling a moment you try to contain yourself, telling yourself once you find this man, you'll get your tall glass of water, you'll get your bed, and a shower. You just need to find him. You'll know it's him because you'll know that pin, you'll know that smile, that voice. And if he touches you, you'll know that too. Just have to go a little farther. Looking around you choose to take the well-traveled path. At least at this moment, you know it's bound to lead you somewhere. Especially out in the desert.

After a lot of self-motivation to not give up and to keep walking, you find yourself standing there on the border of walking into this ivory building so to speak, or to turn around and find yourself someplace else, was this where you needed to be? Probably not, but you know what, maybe it was too late to turn back, after all, you came all this way. Looking down at your feet, you were tired, worn out, thirsty, and hungry, and you just wanted a place to rest your feet, even for the night. Maybe this will be all right, right? Letting out a heavy breath, you cross into the location; it was like night and day. Looking around you felt like maybe you had made a major mistake being here.

Letting out a heavy breath you close your eyes for a brief moment and then a voice jolted you.

"What are you doing here?" They asked.

Looking over, you lick your lips. "I umm... I'm just passing through." You state, but the look they were giving you, that answer wasn't good enough.

"Leave her alone." a voice, a familiar voice, boomed out of nowhere, you know this voice, you've heard this voice, you've seen who this voice belongs to.

The person slowly backs away and you watch this man approaching you, dressed in denim with a bright yellow smiley-faced pin attached to his jacket you look him over, rubbing your eyes a moment you shake your head, he couldn't be the same one, it couldn't be, it really couldn't be. He was handsome, but his aura didn't read so handsome, not this time. Your heart pounded in your chest. Licking your lips, you were so thirsty. You look over him as he approaches you.

"You've come to the right place, I've been expecting you. Come with me, I can only imagine how thirsty you are." He states as he escorts you a little further.

"Oh, oh no, I don't want to Impose." You state stopping in your tracks and looking over everything, and look back at him, "You've been waiting for me?"

"Darlin' you've come this far, this must be where you want to be." He smiles a charming smile. "You can't tell me that you don't want a nice cold glass of water?" He asked. Looking over you, he licks his lips. "Don't you remember?"

Water did sound appealing but you don't quite answer. "I'd remember that pin anywhere." You stated looking at it. It gave you a small sense of happiness, maybe even a little bit of hope. You reach out to touch it.

"Or maybe something to eat, here, you'll never go without. Doesn't that sound good? A bed to sleep in? Food to eat, all you can drink, a place to rest your feet, a place where you matter?" He stops and looks down as you reach out and touch the pin. "You like that, don't you?" He asked with a small smile.

That did sound good, then you look over him and tilt your head. "I do... I really do." You say softly with a small smile before you scoff at yourself, shake your head, and drop your finger from touching the pin.

"You can't tell me that doesn't sound good. This is right where you want to be, you ain't gonna find that anyplace else." He stated with that charming grin. He holds out his hand. "Join me." He smiles again.

Chewing on the corner of your lip you look him over. With some hesitation, you reach forward and place your hand in his.

"Thatta girl." He mused as he takes your hand and kisses it before he takes you toward the large building.

As you walk a little further into the building, you see the debauchery, the craziness of it all, people doing as they pleased, no consequences, at least not that you saw. You were curious admittingly so, but you were still slightly unsure. He was going to have to win you, though, so far he was doing a good job, you were taken by his charm, his calm aura, and the smoothness of his voice. He knew what to say to rope you in, and it wasn't going to be the last time.

As he brings you toward the elevator you look out and down on everyone, your eyes go wide.

"How many were just passing through and chose to stay? Do you know each one of them?" you asked as your gaze keeps on the people below.

He chuckles. "Not all are as lucky as you. I have no idea, probably some more than others, but they are all here for a reason. Just like you." He stated.

He knew things others didn't know, things you've kept secret, he knew of those bad things you've done, and he knew you weren't just passing through. You were no better than the others below, but he has plans for you, plans that are not quite what you're expecting them to be.

Once the elevator reaches the top floor he guides you into his suite. Your jaw clenches as you take in a deep breath. Your body trembled a moment but you felt this soft relaxed feeling wash over you. He lets out a soft chuckle as he looks back at you as you stop and look around a moment before you are beckoned. You just want to take it all in but that was cut somewhat short. As he starts walking down the hall, others stop and stare, muttering to each other. Your brow furrowed a bit, and look down as you start walking closer to a set of double doors. As the doors open you follow him in and you look over your shoulder as you watch the others standing there staring at you and vanish upon the door closing.

You didn't understand why people were staring at you, watching you, even muttering and speaking about you. Why were they so in awe by the fact that the man in your dreams was talking to you and bringing you up to his living space? You had no idea. Biting your lip you let out a soft breath and look down at your feet as you trail behind the tall man dressed in denim. Left, right, left, right, it's like you had to mentally tell yourself to walk forward. Your jaw clenches at yourself, frustrated you had to think about such a mundane task as walking.

"Why were the people staring at me back there? It's like they've never seen you with another person before." You ask, likely chuckling, trying to find it amusing, but truthfully you're too tired to really even care.

"Because you're special, and they don't get to see special all that often."

"Why am I special?" you ask.

"Because you're with me." He smirked.

Getting to someplace for you to sit you look around before taking a seat, you look up at him and your brow furrowed trying to understand what made him so damn special and why was he in your dreams? Maybe it was the fact that you had those prosthetic dreams people talk about. That bit of internal hope of that being it is what fueled you into thinking that maybe you are here for a reason. You sit there and look up over this man for a moment and you try to observe his actions, when he sits, he sits with this calming aura.

Licking your lips you look down at your hands for a moment and think. "Thank you, for giving me a place, even for the night." You state.

"You'll want to stay, trust me." He smirked with a small wink.

"We'll see... I told you, I'm just passing through." You state softly.

He tilts his head and looks over you, he can see with you, it was going to take a little more effort than offering you the world. But that's okay, he wasn't in too much of a rush. Licking his lips he chuckled.

"Of course. Well, at least for tonight, you should rest up, eat something, and maybe think about staying. I could always use a good right hand." He smirked again.

Thinking about him your jaw twitches a moment before you let out a slow breath and nod. "Yeah, I'll think about it." You state looking down a moment as someone came up and offered you a glass of ice-cold water, thanking them and look back toward Randall and search his face.

"What is your name?" You ask.

"Randall." He stated.

"Randall..." you say softly. "You didn't ask me mine."

"I don't need to ask you yours. I know your name. But you're exhausted, have your water, something to eat, and you can find your room right down the hall with your name on a piece of paper hanging on the door." He stated.

Watching him he gets up and makes his way over to the large windows. You could tell he was thinking, or at least that's what you're going to tell yourself. You don't actually know if he is or isn't. But you'd like to assume so.

Smelling the food your head darts in the direction and you smile. It's exactly what you were craving. A delicious hot sandwich with curly fries and a cheese dip sauce. You take a bite and groan in pure satisfaction. Truthfully, as well-mannered as you wanted to be, you scarfed that sandwich down and you kind of hid behind a curtain of dust-filled hair and you let out a soft breath.

You went to speak, to thank him, but he was gone, your brow furrows, and you head to the room you were told was yours, taking the paper from the door you look around, people still staring at you you furrow your brow and walk into the room. Upon walking in you look around, wasting no time, you strip down and take a nice cool shower. Much needed to say the least.

It had been a few days, you had agreed to stay, to give it a chance, and Randall was thrilled to hear it, today was a day you got to spend with Randall, got to see the masses below doing god knows what. Today wasn't just any ordinary day, today you got to oversee a trial, a trial that had damned a man to death. A traitor. You were still trying to understand why he wanted you to see this. But it's because this man knew that you were no stranger to death.

"So, did they kill him?" He asked.

"Yes, they did. Was quite brutal." You stated.

"You're no stranger to that now, are you?" He asked again, looking over your face.

Your brow furrowed and you licked your lips remembering all those years ago. You clear your throat and look up. "I think I'll see myself out now." You state.

"Oh come on, do you really want to do that? You were enjoying your time here. You have everything you ever wanted handed to you. You don't need to want for anything, do you? I can give you so much more." He stated as he walked to you and pulled you close to him.

Your heart started to pound. "I really should go." You state softly.

Tilting your head up he looks into your eyes and shakes his head. "No, you really don't, and you know you don't. You chose to come here. You chose to stay here. This is where you want to be." He stated.

Was he right? He must be. You did choose to stay for the past few days. You did come here on your own accord. He really didn't force you to stay, that was a choice you made. Licking your lips you let out a soft breath and look over him a moment before moving away from him to look out the window. After letting you have a moment, it gave him time to make you a drink.

"Here, drink this, it'll calm your nerves." He stated as he handed you a glass, little did you know that the glass was actually a harsh liquor with some roofie mixed in.

"Thanks." You state as you take the drink and take a sip from it before coughing a moment and looking at him. "What is this?" You ask.

"Just drink it, I promise you'll feel better after." He smiled.

This man hadn't done you wrong yet so may as well right? You sigh a soft sigh and agree to drink the liquor. What he said made sense, and truthfully. Little did you quite realize the subtle manipulation, making it seem it was all your thoughts, that you were the one with the thoughts. Licking your lips you take a sip from the harsh drink and let out a soft breath as it was rough going down. After another sip, you look over at Randall and lick your lips a moment.

"Do you think you could add maybe some sort of fruit flavor to this? It's a bit harsh." You state, not wanting to sound ungrateful.

Though he didn't think of you as ungrateful, he simply chuckled and took the drink, and handed it back to you. "Here, Darlin'. Make sure you drink all of it. No drop left behind." He chuckled.

"Thanks." You state letting out another soft breath you lick at your lips and take a sip.

This fixed drink was much better. So drinking it was like drinking liquid candy. He didn't even ask you instead he started to refill your glass. He hands you the refreshed glass and your brow furrows a moment and you look over at him.

"Drink up, you enjoy that." He smiled.

He wasn't wrong, you brought the glass to your lips and you look over his face before looking down at all the people below. After the first drink, this one was sweeter than the last, maybe it was because he used less liquor, it was good, so it went down easier, and quicker, only for him to bring you a refilled glass. You look over his face and you tilt your head.

"Another?" you ask.

"You didn't finish your other one, take a drink."

You look at him. You could have sworn you finished your last drink. You make a small face and you look at him. "I finished my last one. I know I did."

"No, no you didn't. Here. You had two sips off the last one, take this, finish it, then I'll get you something to eat." He stated.

Taking the drink from him you clench your jaw and thank him again, and you start to slowly drink it before you realize that you're starting to feel a little dizzy. You move to take a seat but he keeps you standing up. He stands behind you and places his hands on either side of your hips. You try to move away from him, you didn't want the touch. You start to feel uncomfortable. You turn and hand him your drink.

"I should go." You state.

"No, finish your drink." He states as he doesn't move from you.

"No, I should go back to my room." You state honestly.

"I insist... finish your drink." He states.

Feeling dizzy you look at him and rub your face. You clench your jaw and shake your head. You set your drink on a nearby table and try to walk away but he grabs you and pulls you back.

"You're not going anywhere." He states firmly.

"Ye-yesIam." You state with a stumble.

He was starting to get irritated with you, he firmly grabs your arm and yanks you back. You growl and spit at him. "Let me the fuck go."

"You're not fucking going anywhere." He states wiping the spit from his face.

You begin to shove him but he shoves you against the glass window, instead of letting you fall he grips your arm and looks over your face before he snarls.

"You're staying right here." He growls.

Letting out a slight whimper you bring your hand to your head and attempt to slap at him to shove, stomp on his foot anything you can do to get away. He grabs you and he drags you to the bed and tosses you on it. You start to panic, but you are having a hard time pulling yourself together. You start to kick as you feel him climbing toward you. You have no idea what happened between the drink and now for him to do this. What did you say? What did you do? You are hitting pure panic mode.

"FUCK YOU!" You scream as you get off the bed and are beginning to crawl away.

Licking his lips he looks down at you, rolling up his sleeves of his denim shirt after tossing his jacket to the side he walks to you and pulls your leg toward him, and flips you over. You attempt to escape again but he takes his boot and presses it against the side of your face forcing your face against the side of the floor. You attempt to fight and call for help, but there wasn't anyone coming to get you, they all knew better than to walk into this room without his direction.

"LET ME GO!" You fight but it was getting more and more difficult to keep yourself awake.

"I'm not letting you go." He stated as he kept his foot against your head.

"Why are you doing this? What did I do?" You ask.

"You're chosen... you can handle this. Stop fighting." He notes your breathing as it started to slow.

Waking up you feel groggy, sore, and chained to a fucking bed?! You move your hands over yourself and find yourself completely nude, feeling between your legs you feel where he's used you. You snarl and you go to stand up and move but you are quickly brought back to the bed. Reaching up you find that you're collared and chained to the bed like some sort of animal.

"What the fuck?!" You yell.

He walks around the corner and smirks. "Oh, you're awake. Good."

"What the fuck!" You snap. "Did you..." You reach between your legs. "Was this you?!" You snap.

He chuckles. "Oh yeah, and you screamed and moaned like you were absolutely enjoying it more than the last time you were fucked." He chuckled again.

"How dare you?! WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!" You slap him across the face.

With a snarl, your face meets the back of his hand. "I fucking own you that's who the fuck I think I am. You enjoyed it. You were begging for more, and I gave you more. You should thank me." He stated.

"Why am I here? Who are you?! Why were you in my dreams?!" You snap.

"You're here because you wanted to be here, you came here on your own, just like how you climbed into my bed on your own. I have it all on video." He states as he pulls out a remote and turns on the TV and rewinds to last night.

Sitting there you watch as you climb into the bed, and start taking off all your clothing, groping yourself, and playing with yourself. You watch him strip down, and begin to have his way with you. You watch as he calls for someone else. You then watch yourself begin to fight. It's clear you're begging, but you're begging for him to stop as the other man comes in and strips down, and both of them are having their way with you. You watch as you fight but they are both restraining you, taking turns filling you.

You're angry, feeling like you're going to be sick. You look at him. "What the actual fuck? Do you think I was begging you to do that? It looked like I was begging you to stop." You state with a small growl.

"Begging is begging." He stated. "And baby, you were begging." He stated with a chuckle and an emphasis on the begging aspect.

Disgusted, you tremble in utter disgust. Clenching your jaw you walk over and throw your fist against his face with all your might before you start slapping him and kicking him. You were angry, furious, feeling used and abused and violated. Rightfully so. You were quickly brought to a halt when he grips your throat, slams you into the floor, and kneels down on top of you straddling your body. You go to try and punch again.

"Hit me again, and I will fucking kill you." He snarled and grabbed his knife from under the bed.

"Then fuckin kill me. I'm far better off dead at this point." You hiss after spitting in his face again.

Taking the blade he stabs it into your side, missing all vital organs and arteries, his goal wasn't to kill you, but to scare you. He snarls. You snarl back and for what? What were you going to do? You couldn't do anything but you start to scream feeling the rush going away, and a foreign object stabbing into you, your eyes go wide and let out another scream before he rips it from you. With your hand, you reach to your wound and feel the blood pouring out of it. You slap it across his face, snarling he jerks you and slams you into the floor again, feeling light-headed from being slammed into the floor you try and find your bearings.

He takes his own hand and brings it to the blood and smears it on your body, the bright red against the contrast of your skin was something he enjoyed very much, it excited him, moving to settle himself between your legs you begin to try and fight him, still woozy, he takes the blood from your side and slides it up your legs, coating your inner things in it before he strips down and looks down at you. Licking his lips he wastes no time shoving his already-stiffened cock into you. You let out a scream and begin to kick and thrash yourself to get away from him but it's not working.

You begin to cry, screaming, pleading for him to stop.

"I don't think so. Take it, enjoy it. You're going to carry my child. The last bitch killed my child, but you'll make a fine incubation chamber for my spawn." He snarled.

You didn't want that, you didn't need that.

"NO! NO! NO! STOP!" You begin to sob. "Please stop."

It's like you lost all your strength, it's like it was drained from you as he thrusts into your wet center with no cares.

Thrust after thrust, the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoed into the room, the stickiness of the blood keeping your legs against him. You just lay there, whimpers of crying, whimpers of being thrust into, but not whimpers of enjoyment, not whimpers of love or desire, but whimpers nonetheless. Your eyes cast to the side as your head turns to face the bottom of the window. You tried to find your happy place as he uses your body you can't find the fight in you anymore, you feel like all you've done is fight. You feel this anger bubbling inside you as you hear him growl and snarl.

He grips you and lifts your hips a bit to get a deeper penetration to deposit his seed... again. Your jaw clenches. Incubator. It's the only word that echoes in your mind.

Standing in the bathroom, bruised, stitched up, poorly mind you. You look over yourself in the mirror, your eyes red and swollen from crying. Your lips cracked and bloodied. You break down in tears, feeling every ounce of pain in your body from the past two days. You had been used, fighting him off, running your hand over your tummy you shake your head.

It all seemed to happen so fast, and you have so much regret in you, you hate all you've done, you hate everything you've done to yourself and those you've hurt. You suddenly feel like you need a priest and a confessional. You sob harder in the bathroom, the only time you have alone and to yourself. You shake your head and looked down at yourself.

"He's not going to be allowed to keep you..." You clench your jaw.

Suddenly there became a bang at the door.

"Do you like living?" He asks.

"Not with you I don't." You snap.

"You should be so lucky I chose you. Women would kill to be in your shoes." He stated.

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