#or maybe he has played so many gore games he's not bothered anymore

[emuthec0w]

Scars Make You Beautiful.

Kinktober Special: Mahito

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CW: Mahito (ik how many people DESPISE this man), knifeplay, gore, c7tting, GN!Reader, extensive teasing, yandere!mahito

A/N: Sorry for not uploading more and answering asks, I’ve been in a bit of a slump but I at least owed you guys some fics on the last 3-4 days of Kintober <3

Btw, I write JJK now!

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“Aw-ha! Don’t look at me like that, it makes me a little sad..”

You sighed at the memory of Mahito smiling playfully, wiping a fake tear from his eye. Surprise, surprise, Halloween would just so happen to be Mr. Patchworks’ favorite holiday! You didnt know if you should laugh or cry with this information. On top of never being left alone in your torture cell of a bedroom you’d have to deal with his ‘spooky’ games. Things he’d maybe found online or heard whispers of near shrines in the dark of the night when the only friend you had was the moon. Even that vanished sometimes.

You were unsure if you’d even consider Geto your friend. No, he couldn’t be. He worked with Mahito. He made sure you could never leave. All for the sake of pleasing that selfish, child-like curse. If he wasnt coddling you and watching your every move he’d send other curses to do so, and to say the very least it was mind numbing. It was awkward. It was degrading. You, all dressed up in either frilly or gothic outfits (depending on Mahito’s mood), being babysat by curses who could kill you in an instant if they really wanted to.

As you lied in bed staring at the over-decorated ceiling you felt a grumble bubble from your stomach to your throat. Your gaze fixed from picture to picture, each printed from a polaroid camera of you. You in the shower, you in bed, you putting on your work uniform, pantyshots that you weren’t even sure how he’d gotten- all strong across the ceiling. Almost as if it was something he was proud of. 5 months. It had been 5 whole months since your abduction.

As far as you knew, no one bothered to come looking for you. No one cared. No one questioned a thing when you disappeared! Maybe your boss threw a fit when he realized he couldnt shove loads of overtime onto your shoulders anymore, but that was probably it. What other substantial role did you really play in your life? Everyday was the same cycle it’s been for the past 19 years. It didnt matter at all.

It never did.

Maybe, just maybe, being with Mahito put some spice in your life! It added some pizazz! But god, what were you thinking? You hated this. More than anything in the world. The things you were forced to see would permanently alter the course of your life’s trajectory. The look of terror as you watched humans become monsters in mere seconds.. their pleas for help.. their pleas for death..

You’d never be the same.

Your head shot up the moment you heard the door to your room slip open, then closed once more. From the stairs that led down to it a familiar blue-haired boy peeped his head down. He had a wild grin on his face as he stared at you, and you felt yourself become ill. What was he planning now?..

“It’s Halloween! Doll, do you know what that means?”

In his hands he held a bag, one filled with amazing new goodies he’d gotten after brainstorming with his curse friends on what to do for this Horrifying Holiday! He was so excited he swore he was shaking, giddy as he made his way towards you. You slowly sat up, and before you’d fully balanced yourself he plopped down by your side and leaned all his weight onto you, nuzzling your shoulder happily.

For such a beast, he could act like such a kid. But, your thoughts immediately swayed on that subject as he covered your eyes. Even if you couldn’t see it, you could just feel that sadistic smile of his grow as his gaze fell upon you. You always felt vulnerable around him. How could you not? He was an all-capable curse, and you were.. weak. You weren’t a sorcerer. You didn’t know a thing about Jujitsu. So how could you not be afraid?

“W..Whhat does it mean?” You breathed, eyes closed under his stitched-up palm. He pouted, a small groan of disappointment pushing past his throat.

“You dont know? Oh well, I guess that makes it more of a surprise!”

You took in a sharp breath as you heard him fiddle with the bag he’d brought home with him. You wondered if this was a trick question, and maybe he’d grant you the mercy of strangulation with it if you were lucky.

“I got us some goodies! I know you’ll just love them!” Mahito smiled, and before you could get anything out in response you felt his hand at the side of your neck. “Now, no panicking okay? That screaming thing you do is cute but IIIII~~… don’t wanna deal with it now! Got that?”

You nodded. What else could you do? As he slowly removed his cold hand from your eyes you took in several deep breaths to try to compose yourself. But really how could you? Shaky breathing and a stoic nature was as calm as you could get around him. Your eyes fluttered for a moment before opening and readjusted to the room’s dull light. Fearfully, your gaze made it to his hand. He was holding something in it.. but you.. couldn’t tell what.

You swallowed down some saliva, and he noticed this almost immediately. He pursed his lips, before they formed into a small— innocent, smile.

“I got us a fun play-time toy! Isn’t that fun? Doesn’t it make your ‘heart’ flutter?” He paused, glancing to the side for a moment, “Well, not your heart. Humans don’t have those! Uhh.. does it make your soul flutter?”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at his witty pickup lines. You nodded your head, a gentle smile plastering over your face. It was the least you could do.. because how dare you be ungrateful for what all he does for you, right?

“Mm.. yes.” You pressed your cheek to the rim of his hand which still caressed your neck, eyes narrowing. “T-Thanks..”

A look of thrill overtook his expression at your answer, and you felt your mouth fall agape as the sensation of a blade slashed against the smooth skin of your neck. He’d jerked his hand back and.. cut you. And now as you bled he leaned forward and licked the wound, tongue pressing into it and licking away all blood that attempted to slip out. Each time you whined his tongue slipped deeper, and he even began biting the skin around the cut after a bit of teasing it.

He always felt so incredibly drunk off of your love. It was so damn addicting.. so intoxicating. And god, you would never admit that this treatment drove you crazy as well sometimes. You bucked your hips under the covers expectantly, eyes shutting. He set his other hand on your thigh, squishing it in his calloused palm as you squirmed. His thumb rubbed circled around your inner thigh, eyes narrowed on your core.

It didnt take a genius to figure out you were getting off on his teasing, and he couldn’t help but give a you a smug grin upon realizing it. You huffed, eyes watering a little as the wound he’d given you began to sting immensely.

“Oh? Are you enjoying this doll?” He eagerly questioned, “I’m so happy! You usually never like my attempts at this stuff… and this one just so happens to be my favorite too~!”

Before you could respond he brought his hand up and began slicing rapidly into your soft skin, blood trickling down your arms and legs. Several mouths sprouted from Mahito’s stitched up skin, pale tongues lapping at the bleeding slits made by his knife. Once he’d finished bloodying you up he brought his knife back and set it on the bedside counter near where your head lay. Watching you wince he licked his lips, eyes narrowing with glee.

“Now, the real fun begins!”

#x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #mahito #jjk mahito #mahito jjk #mahito x reader #mahito x gn!reader #gn reader #gn!reader #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #fanfic #jjk x gn!reader #jjk x you #mahito x you #kinktober #october special #halloween #halloween jjk #jjk kinktober

[liliallowed]

the last laugh

a dusttale pacifist timeline with a twisted protagonist.

-major unreality and 4th walk breaks

-injury

-character death

-psychological mind games

-eventual gore and violence

-angst

-hurt no comfort

-NOT a fix you fic

-NOT a fluff fic

-dead dove do not eat (I'm serious this fic doesn't hold back. read if you like edgy stuff. this isn't fluff.)

chapter 1: old beginnings

you're tired of the monotonous killing sprees. it's time to switch things up a bit.

for whatever reason you've decided to switch play styles.

he wanted to play your role?

two could play that game.

his little stunt had had you feeling a lot of emotions.

guilt, shame pity...

but also...

respect, admiration, interest, and curiosity.

it was an understatement to say you honestly felt... impressed. shocked.

but soon that jumpscare of a fight turned your fear into something different.

you weren't sure WHAT.

perhaps you felt guilty and wanted to undo this? give him the ending he has longed for for so many timelines?

he was a monster of your own making much like Chara.

perhaps you felt responsible for it all and wanted to take back the control you had lost over the script to make amends.

or maybe you couldn't care less and just saw it as another empty challenge to check off on you checklist that kept you from going insane. feeding the never ending apathetic boredom you had cultivated throughout the loop.

regardless of your motives you were pumped and excited to try something new with him.

you had perfected your skills throughout your fights with him to the extent that you could almost do papyrus fight blind in comparison... you muscle memory kicked into high gear as you flawlessly dodged the bullets you had dodged countless times.

it was exhilarating. he was SO DIFFICULT to beat. not because of the damage. in fact the damage he dealt was significantly less than before.

no his fluid movement and complicated bullet patterns was what would screw you over.

and he never NEVER used the same pattern. it was always changing. always keeping up with your pace. predicting your movement, tracking learning improving.

god he was so fun to fight.

it almost felt like you were playing the game on multiplayer.

but... you have had your fill from his shenanigans. you had seen everything he had to offer.

had checked every single corner. exhausted every bit of dialogue you COULD drag out from him...

it was never repeative. always new always flexible and always ALWAYS keeping track of you.

it came to your attention that even if you SPARED monsters... he'd still kill them.

if you tried to save them he'd STILL GO AFTER THEM.

oh.

oh fuck he was ACTUALLY serious.

it wasn't about a simple grudge anymore no he was LOCKING you in genocide on purpose without your input.

and he was aware of it.

he had taken away your CHOICE of mercy without even touching your soul.

it creeped you out.

at first you thought his reasoning was stupid.

if he wanted to save them why did he kill them?

looking at it now though it was almost ingenious... clever and creative.

it reminded you a LOT of what Chara would pull on the end of a soulless pacifist except sans had cranked it to a 100.

he wasn't trying to save them.

no he was just straight up trying to trap you in an inescapable purgatory until YOU decided to leave it.

he never meant to SAVE them he only meant to STOP YOU.

he had taken control over the FUCKING SCRIPT.

you could no longer decide fate. no.

the world had fallen from your grasp.

despite controlling time you could not change fate.

and it BOTHERED you.

oh so he thought he could snatch this world from you the way Chara would ask for your soul every genocide run?

all it took was some few file recycling to fool that idiot to think you were here for the first time.

you could find loop holes inside loops. and he had issued a personal challenge to beat HIM at HIS game.

which also begged the question. how the FUCK did sans know if not even flowey and Chara could recall it? was he hanging out in your recycle bin or something?

you were pretty sure that was not how it worked.

there was literally no trace of your genocide...

you had a sneaking suspicion gaster was involved somehow.

because why not.

either way you couldn't just murder your way into a happy ending...

not unless you could alert the other monsters.

something sans failed to do because his argument felt so unrealistic and-

"sans? psht that guy can't even hurt a fly"

oh.

you were starting to feel a headache already.

god fucking dammit.

why did you do this to yourself. why do you decide to do hitless runs and try sans simulators every Monday... why do you speed run the path of pain in hollow knight.

why do you walk naked in elden ring and get absolutely destroyed...

what the FUCK is actually wrong with you...

god what had you gotten yourself into...

you have this thought process every single time. it seems to be a repeating pattern.

but you're too stubborn to give up.

I mean granted it didn't make sense why Chara would be trying to antagonize sans when they were literally after the same thing... except they had been silent for xxx resets... going back to slumber.

attempt 1:

you woke up and practically rolled over your way out of the flower bed with great agility jumping on your feet.

time to put all that speedrunning to use.

you sped your way across the ruin halls doing skips and wall runs, not even BOTHERING to solve the puzzles as you skillfully hopped over the spikes.

flowey caught on that something was different about you this round. he had popped right Infront of you to ask but you juked him, not even bothering to explain your plan.

it was simple. convince goat mom a frikin serail killer was about to kill her and he might have been the person she had been speaking to behind the door...

monsters encountered you but you flicked your soul skillfully to flee, your movement almost as precise as a Tas each time an encounter was made

you couldn't flee blooky but thanks to the broken script you managed to weasel your way out of the battle box FORCING your way out of battle.

the ghost stared at you with visible confusion and shock as if it has seen you defy the laws of gravity or something... which wasn't strange with magic... but with cheesing the battle box? yeah you must've looked like you were glitching through a wall or something.

you ran straight ahead to steal/borrow a bunch of spider donuts... you meant all you could get your hands on.

you ran into toriel next but didn't even STOP and ran full speed ahead towards the save point near the tree.

you were panting. your body was so tired... it's muscles were sore from being pushed to this extent.

you were sure it was in pain.

not that you could feel it of course.

you saved your time in the save point.

it glowed a brilliant gold, almost five times brighter than it usually was.

*you are filled with determination.

damn right you were.

your body collapsed to the ground, not even able to take another step...

flowey used this chance to approach you.

"another speed run?"

he asked with a scoff.

you shook your head.

"I've... I've got a new idea... you know how sans pulled a YOU on me? I say we pull a HIM... on him hahaha... "

you panted leaning back against the tree.

Flowey's eyes widened in surprise.

"wanna help me try something new old friend?"

you smile.

flowey was overjoyed at first by your offer.

but hesitated.

"what is your plan? "

he asked tilting his head. he didn't trust you.

but you had gained his interest.

"well I know I can't convince people that that lazy couch potato suddenly went psycho without giving myself away... "

you hummed examining a tree branch that had fallen down.

"do we're going to make it look like a coincidence that I know and INDIRECTLY drive everyone away and lead them to the throne room."

a big smile appeared on Flowey's face that made you wonder how he wasn't split in half.

"now THAT sounds interesting."

he laughed as he patted your back with amusement using a vine.

"but we'll have one shot at pulling this off. once he knows my plan it'll be useless."

you warned.

"so I'm currently making preparations and sizing up the chess board. measuring the time it takes to run from checkpoint to checkpoint."

you finished trying the ribbons you found with the stick, making a makeshift spear.

he would usually throw your weapons into the lava pit to sabotage your progress so you had to get creative.

flowey nodded with a small mischievous giggle. "oh this is going to be SO FUN! specially after your whole... eat sleep kill, repeative habits..."

"hey I wanted to try increas-"

"yes  yes I know how obsessed you are with skill, precision and speed... but now you're satisfied and want to move to something different. just like old times ey?"

"yep."

"so _____, where do I come in all this?"

"meh  I'm just poking around before finalizing the genocide sabotage."

"is that what you're calling it?"

"it ain't pacifist since I'll be fighting that bone head plenty times... it isn't genocide since I'M NOT the killer now... so how about reverse genocide or geno-tage? sabo-cide?"

"didn't you name the previous run rebellio-"

"AY SH SH SHHHHH we don't talk about that."

"what? that you totally got owned by the trashbag?"

the banter was interrupted by toriel walking in, standing in place with a shocked expression.

"oh m-my little one how did you get here? did you fall down? you must've been so scared!"

you shook your head, smiling at the concerned monster.

"no! this flower helped me find my way!"

(my ass. you zoomed across the whole place like it was a marathon)

flowey thought as he smiled picking up on the act.

"o-oh! thank you... pardon my intrusion... my child do you know where you are?"

"yeah! he said it was safe here and he told me all about monsters and magic and the love they have for one another!"

Flowey cringed at the word love...

it had just occurred to him that you had made him say that dialogue XXX times already without his knowledge before sans decided its kill or be killed.

"we did get a chance to make many friends since he told me I should escape if I felt unsafe. "

you finished explaining as you grinned knowingly at his discomfort.

"oh! that's a relief for them to have met such a kind monster like you dear. thank you!" she smiled warmly at flowey.

unbeknownst to her a shiver ran on the flowers stem as he recalled being burnt to crisp by her fire every GOD DAMNED TIME he tried to talk to the human.

"I apologize for the late introduction my child. I am Toriel. gatekeeper of the ruins.

I live in that house just across! would you like to join me for some cinnamon pie?"

you nodded.

"I prefer butterscotch but thank you!"

you smile warmly. god this was SO nostalgic. it made your heart go all fuzzy and warm as you ignored the warning of impending doom at the corner of your mind, coming to bite you in the ass, like the grim reaper itself had taken offense from your recklessness...

now that you think about it... wasn't this whole ordeal just you and that riding hood arguing over who'd have the last laugh?

it was childish immature bit neither of you planned to give up..

if he wasn't out for your blood you'd even consider it close to a sibling dynamic...

"o-oh ! well it's a good thing I also happen to have the ingredients!"

your mind snapped back into the present.

your anxiety over where and WHEN he would strike would not let you linger in one place for too long.

you lift yourself up from the pile of red leaves under you and let flowey climb up to your shoulder, using his vines to keep his position seure around your head.

"a flower crown" ... you smirk at him and he rolled his eyes.

and just for a split second you barley managed to catch the look of sadness on toriels face.

"you look so lovely my child."

she smiled... it was a bitter sweet smile. a sense of grief and longing written all over her expression.

you take her hand, comforting her.

you may have been worse than la literal demon... but you weren't completely heartless... oh who were you kidding of course you were.

the nostalgia hit you like a brick wall when you spend a day crying over killing her by accident. good times good times...

you were tempted to do it again.

bringing yourself to care then cut yourself off. it was horrible it was beautiful it made you FEEL HORRIBLE AND AMAZING.

GOD YOU HATED how much you LOVED it. and loved how you hated it.

you hated yourself SO FUCKING MUCH that you couldn't even give yourself CLOSURE AND RIP OF THE DAMNED BANDAID.

you were a sucker for drama and tragedy.

that bittersweetness... that sweet sweet IRONY.

that sheer agoney of watching something you built crumble into a mess... how it crushed you on the inside.

validating your worst fears in a self fulfilling prophecy.

you had a small kinship with the feeling.

break it fix it break it fix it break it fix it...

you could.

why SHOULDN'T you. why WOULD you.

you could FEEL getting sucked into another self destructive cycle.

fix it.

obsessing over the smallest things. you had to know everything.

break it.

until realization hit.

what had you done?

what HAD you done? what WERE YOU DOING?

... oh it's just for shits and giggles!

I don't WANT to save them.

it doesn't MATTER.

I just wanna STICK IT TO HIS DUMB FACE. HAHAHAHA!

I DON'T CARE ABOUT THESE MONSTERS.

THEY'RE NOTHING BUT CODE!

/you're re wracked with a perverted sentimentality./

then why do I keep them around...?

you cared. you cared SO MUCH it drive you crazy.

a craziness you dared not indulge in in reality but in fiction.

it was your obsession that drive you to this point. not apathy.

you genuinely cared. you couldn't let go you couldn't. you had to. YOU HAD TO SEE IT TO THE END. THIS WASN'T GOING TO THE WAY YOU'D LET THINGS END.

...

now that you think about it... that thought process does sound iconically familiar.

you couldn't help but let out a small hysterical chuckle.

oh the irony. oh how much you wanted to just... laugh at your own hypocrisy for expecting anything different.

"you damned riding hood... "

you mumbled only to find yourself in toriels embrace as she rocked her chair back and forward, slowly stroking your hair to comfort you.

...

you leaned into her soft paws...

god you wished you could actually feel them. the warmth of the fireplace... hear her humming...

how much you craved to make yourself FEEL SOMETHING... ANYTHING. PAIN PLEASURE CALMNESS SUFFERING you'd take ANYTHING.

ANYTHING to make you feel less hollow.

"shhh it's okay child. it must've been hard on you on the surface. "

she cood softly comforting the human in her arm.

you contemplated her words for a moment.

was she talking to you...? how would she know how YOU felt? she couldn't. she wouldn't...

only flowey and sans could understand.

not even CHARA understood it.

you didn't need some npcs PITY.

...

and yet?

her words felt so pure so... genuine.

it sent another wave of guilt back at you.

"no... I didn't really have a dramatic backstory... "

you replied softly.

your throat was tight.

the way it used to be when you had killed papyrus for the first time.

you told yourself you'd give ANYTHING to be able to play this game for the first time again...

and this was as emotionally close as it was going to get

/god dammit/

you teared up.

you were glad they could not see you. the REAL you.

you couldn't afford to show weakness.

you couldn't afford to go soft and back down.

you were always committed to anything you set your mind to. good or evil. you were too deep into the grind to give up now.

you had to remind yourself.

this wasn't because of your guilt or hero complex. you simply did it out of boredom.

you WEREN'T a good person.

you didn't GET TO feel guilty. you didn't have the RIGHT to feel like this.

toriel nodded with a bitter smile.

"it's not something to be taken lightly... your soul... it's... how do I explain it..."

"evil. empty? "

you replied without thinking. it didn't matter. you'd just reset her if she found out too much. you decided to throw her a clue to just exactly WHAT kind of abomination she was cradling in her arms right now.

"oh no! heavens no. it's simply injured. it's scarred and it's broken."

she glanced down to your face with a worried expression.

"you have no idea what I am."

you smile bitterly.

/"I'm not even a "human." " /

/"I'm not even a child in fact." /

/"I've killed you XXX times..."/

/"do you know what you are even talking to"/

you WANTED to say it but... the words just wouldn't come out.

we're you scared of her disappointment?

or was it because you simply felt burnt out and too lazy to reset it...

Flowey could have tattled...

but after sans... "happened" you were too paranoid.

you couldn't risk being arrogant again.

toriel stayed silent for a moment, contemplating how to answer.

"of course I do. you're only human."

she smiled.

you turn to face her. she can't really read your expression. because your face is nothing but a shade of black with pixelated glitches decorating the outline.

not that it's within her code to react to such an odd display.

not that she recognizes you are just SO OUT OF PLACE. she also doesn't recognize the broken script... or the glitches occasionally popping in and out.

it alienates you.

you wished she could see what you saw. understand.

you didn't want to be alone...

"you must be tired my child. would you like me to show you to your bed room?"

she suggested deciding to break the tension.

you nodded.

it was practically tradition to check the mirror everytime at this point.

no description.

not in grey not in red... nothing. it was just a black screen reflecting your own face on the monitor.

your REAL face.

you felt amused at that little taunt of the semi self aware world mocking you.

it was charming.

as if it had aknowledged you.

SAW THROUGH you.

and you loved it. loved it's reactiveness and flexibility.

you flopped into the bed pretending to go to sleep.

"gnight Flowey"

"yeah yeah"

it was honestly surprising that you made more progress by taking a breather under the tree rather than speeding across the whole underground.

maybe there was more to it than just SPEED... you knew these characters like the back of your hand. their schedules, when and where they would go... you could predict them and read them like a book.

sans and flowey were the only variables you needed to be wary of.... well just sans since you and flowey were both practically identical when it came to personality and motivation.

if only you could organize the PERFECT domino effect... it could work.

but dominos were hard to put together without falling off. you needed to do it VERY slowly and meticulously. one mistake and all of it would be ruined.

that was why... they realized they needed help.

this was something impossible to do on a first try. and yet they NEEDED more attempts to secure a consistent solution.

it was time to get creative with the code.

so you decided to keep multiple copies OF THE SAME world on different devices with different accounts just to keep your experimentation clean precise and untreatable.

you were sure gaster would be proud... or pissed. either of the two. you didn't really know the guy.

but judging by sans's methods and his connection to him you had a hunch you two had a LOT on common.

maybe he wasn't AS bad as you? but sans didn't even seem that surprised by your first genocide... nor the second or third... he just... stood there with no motive or drive.

and now he was obsessed with "winning"

if it didn't scream gaster or Chara you don't know what did.

"I know your type"

"no... you're the type of person who will never be happy"

"don't you have anything better to do"

chills, literal chills everytime you heard it.

you squinted around the room keeping your ears sharp to the soulnd of Toriels movements.

she had gone to the kitchen.

"now's your chance! go!"

flowey whispered.

it didn't matter if sans killed her this run. you were simply testing the waters.

you swiftly jumped from your bed and dashed across the hall, your footsteps barely making a sound.

you ran down into the basement and went through all the way to the end.

usually toriel would've brought you back but you had done a sequence break, going downstairs AS the game was playing the cutscene...

yeah this was actually a bit funny to watch.

you could hear Flowey's confusion from the glitching screen, laughing your ass off.

you had no idea where you were going but your muscle memory knew. you had done a blind run before. you could get out of the-

you crashed headfirst into the door.

you snapped back into your vessel from the cutscene grabbing your throbbing head.

"ow..."

you muttered as you stood up and began to push the giant door open.

MAN was this thing heavy.

flowey only gave you a small glare before climbing back on top of your head again.

a brief breeze brushed past you.

there was a certain chilliness to it that you hadn't noticed before. it had gone colder.

you took a deep breath before marching forward with a determined face.

the cold whiplashed snow across your face.

a storm was brewing.

you could feel it.

you couldn't see much due to the blizzard but what you DID know was that from here on out this was a lion's den... and you were the prey.

you needed to get to a save point and fast.

he had a habit of camping near them because he had narrowed down their locations.

you knew he couldn't SEE the save points but that didn't stop him from tracking your record and finding their locations on his own.

you avoided going near the save for that very same reason and decided to take a detour around the forest. the main path was too predictable and the trees provided good cov-

"watch out!"

you held in a scream that threatened to erupt from your throat the moment you had stepped on a FUCKING BEAR TRAP.

"this fucking douche bag... "

you growled as you force it open with your bloody hands.

"I told you to be careful idiot!"

Flowey complained.

that was the SEVENTH FUCKING TIME you stepped on a bear trap.

you drag your injured limp leg.

"oh for the love of... here."

flowey heals you, preventing you from having to use a spider donut.

*HP fully restored.

"have I ever told you I love you?"

you wink at him.

"SHUT  UP BEFORE I SHOOT A BULLET THROUGH YOUR HEART"

he scoffed.

you hum with amusement.

wow. who knew he was so handy when he wasn't killing Asgore to stop you from going to the surface.

you march towards... the bridge...

sans had thrown you in the abyss underneath at LEAST twenty times.

he wasn't here which meant be was probably grinding exp at the ruins.

good for him.

you breeze across doggo's station, not making the slightest sound. you were here considerably earlier than you SHOULD have been.

you had even done sequence breaks to get here this early in fact. one could even say you... used a shortcut...

yeah you had no idea how that worked.

something familiar glistened at the corner of your eye.

there was a save point beckoning you suspiciously with an unoccupied and unattended "murder" post beside it.

it used to be a ketchup stand but now? oh boy you some really bad memories from it.

"no bloodthirsty skeletons around? no? don't mind of I do!"

you comment in your head slowly and very carefully stepping closer to the stand.

you stood still staring intently at the crate on top of the save point, positioned in a way that almost made it look like a crude and simple trap.

the lack of spikes or deadly decorations on the contraptions made you realize it might have been the work of papyrus.

the real or fake one? who knows.

"oh that's just pathetic."

flowey scoffts slamming his vines and throwing the crate off to the side.

"you're being petty don't you think? I thought it was cute."

you reach your hand, saving your progress-

*snap*

the snow underneath your feet crumbles sending the two of you to a pit of spikes.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

/ah there's sans' trademark. it's definitely from phantom pap/

you realize mid air, hearing flowey screech in terror as he nearly suffocates you from hugging you so tight.

you pull the spear out of your inventory and strike the wall.

it somehow works!

you don't know how a shabby stick an support your weight but you're not complaining.

your left heel got stabbed but it did not go clean through to be that bad.

a single tear fell from your eye as you shook in place curling into a ball hanging from of the horizontal spear struck into the wall.

you let out the sound resembling the cry of a whale and a mouse combined.

"what the hell is that sound... you just made..."

"pain"

you sob in silent agoney. why the toes it always had to be the friking toes man. you were fine dying a super Gorey death. or having your brain's blown out but THE PINKY TOE AND THE HEEL? REALLY!?

"what...??"

"paaaaaain... I'm in great pain"

you hiss grabbing your leg, cradling it to your chest like it's your newborn son.

shouldn't you have stopped falling just inches away from your face like in those movies?

life had many disappointments.

flowey pulled both of you up from the death trap.

he healed your leg back and even restored your torn shoes somehow.

"almost got dunked there. thanks"

you smiled.

you then proceeded to run full speed ahead, dodging any incoming monsters.

you zoomed across the ice ring with your velocity increasing dangerously high.

then you proceed to catapult yourself into a pile of snow at the other side of the froze lake.

"man I miss the old sm64 days where you could do this backwards"

you shake the snow off your head and flowey didn't even seem surprised at this point.

you could literally vibrate back and forth on command and glitch through some walls. you could moonwalk and go forward backwards on the hotland vents. he just stopped questioning it. he didn't want to know.

and you had brought this poor game to it's knees with how much sequence breaking you had done with seedruns.

maybe this was why it became like this.

the world was just angry at you for not stopping to smell the roses and going too fast...

you got yourself out if the snow puff, shaking off the cold from you body before heading towards snowdin.

to your surprise it wasn't a deserted wasteland yet.

but it wasn't warm and cheery ither. the atmosphere was heavy and the laughter of children could no longer be heard.

huh? what was going on?

granted YOU know what was about to go down but why was everyone else acting nervous?

they all seemed paranoid. no one seemed to know WHY or how they felt it but everyone could FEEL something was off and wrong...

a sense of dread had taken over the townsfolk. and no one knew why this feeling was happening.

some were nervous. some had closed up shops... there were also few who were still playing around in the snow but from their expressions you could tell they had their gaurd up.

did they know? did they remember? you really never knew since you never got to see this place before sans made it into a ghost town.

but from the looks of it people had a SENSE of it. they weren't oblivious.

good good.

#dusttale #dusttale au #the last laugh #dusttale pacifist timeline #liliwrites #no beta i die like the random froggit in the ruins sans killed

[yandere-caesar]

mind writing a Yandere Josuke who very delirious and wants never more to make his female darling happy even having to take by force

Sure! I am not sure which Josuke you want me to write, but since you did not put Hat Josuke, Gappy, or part 8 Josuke, I am going to assume that you mean part 4.

This one was aaaaalmost finished. This is more of an unedited one than an unfinished fic.

Love is unbreakable

Description: Josuke has tried everything to make the person he loves happy.

Pairing: yandere!Josuke x female!reader

Warnings: Technical kidnapping, stalking, unhealthy relationships, depression, angst, murder, gore, death, abuse, suicidal/self harm themes, yandere themes.

Josuke could remember the exact moment he got feelings for her. It had been her first day at school and she was too nervous to really talk to anyone. Whenever someone tried to approach her she would flinch away and find some excuse to leave.

He hadn’t put much thought into it until he ended up seeing her on the roof of the school. It was where he usually met up with his friends when all of their other places where taken. She was sitting on a bench, picking at her lunch and looking down at everything on the ground bellow. Maybe she was deep in thought. It was hard to read her, but there was something distant and sad about it that he couldn’t put his finger on.

It made him want to do something about it.

He sat down next to her, grinning. He could see her grabbing her food in surprise, probably getting ready to bolt now that there was someone else out there. But he held up a hand, hoping it would stop her for a second.

“Hey, don’t worry! I’m not here to bother you or anything! I just thought you looked kind of lonely, you know?”

He could tell she was still uneasy, but she seemed to relax just the slightest bit. Maybe she was thinking it over?

“Thanks...”

“Don’t mention it! So did you just move here? I know you’re new to this school.”

“Yes...I just moved here last week actually.”

“If you don’t know much I would be happy to show you around town some time, you know?”

He could feel his heart flutter when she gave him a very small smile. Nothing too overwhelming, but enough to let the moment of peace slip through.

“I would like that.”

That was the moment when Josuke had truly fallen. He didn’t want to see her looking down at the ground with the veil of gloom she usually had. He wanted to see her give him that same smile every day. He wasn’t sure why, but there was just something about it. Something about her.

He couldn’t stop thinking about it and it had been months since they met. While she was still too skittish to be around the other people that liked to hang out with him, Josuke was happy that she had at least opened up to him. He was pretty sure that he was her only friend, but he didn’t have a problem with that. It made them more personal in a way. Something just the two of them could share.

It was like a date, wasn’t it? Were they already dating? They might as well be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Things continued like this for a while. Both of you decided to stay in town after graduating, which you were happy about. Josuke was your best friend and you weren’t sure what you would have even done on your own without him if you had decided to leave and go to some strange alien place with no one you knew.

He always knew when you were having a bad day and would do whatever he could to cheer you up. These included taking you out to get your favorite food, watching your favorite shows with you, playing your favorite games, and many other things. You can’t remember when you told him about your interests, but you’ve been buddies for so long that it doesn’t matter anymore, does it?

Yet still....there were things you just couldn’t tell him. There were things that followed you in your mind on your bad days that kept you from being completely happy. It wasn’t that you meant to look sad all the time, it was just that you had a hard time hiding your true emotions, even if you didn’t want to drag anyone else into your problems.

Every time you were asked about it, you gave him some excuse or another. You turned in a homework assignment late. You didn’t get the job that you wanted. You spilled tea on yourself before going out and had to go back in and change.

While most people would have probably caught on after a while that you were lying, Josuke never seemed to question what you said. He always wanted to believe you and just wanted to make you happy. And you wanted it to stay like that, even if it wasn’t enough sometimes. You didn’t have anyone else. Josuke was the only person who really cared about you.

But as time went by, the amount of disappearances in the town started to go up again. Everyone thought that since the killer was caught, this wouldn’t happen. That people would be safe. But that wasn’t the case.

And to make matters worse, the people that went missing were always people that you knew. Sure some of them had been rude to you. A lot of them had even been outright mean. But that didn’t mean that you wanted them dead. In fact, the whole thing made you very sad and afraid.

Knowing that Josuke had a hand in catching the town’s killer, you decided to confide in him about it, but he never seemed to take it seriously. All he said was that he wouldn’t let anyone hurt you. And that he would always protect you. It always made you feel better in the moment, but when you were alone you had your doubts.

This was a conversation you were having today as Josuke walked you home from work. You still lived with your parents because you had not yet saved up enough money to move out of the house, but you were already looking at options that were closer to where Josuke lived.

��Hey y/n, how come I’ve never met your parents?”

“Oh, you know. They don’t really like it when I bring other people over. It’s just a rule they have.” You look away from him.

“Even someone like me?” You laugh at that and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Even someone like you. Now I have to go. I’m not supposed to be out after dark and you know that.”

“Yeah.....I know. Guess I’ll see you tomorrow y/n.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After you shut the door behind you, Josuke just stood there for a few minutes. While he had walked y/n home a few times and he would sometimes follow you around when you weren’t looking, he had never had it in him to actually peek on you when you was at your house. Maybe it was out of respect. Or maybe it was because something always seemed.....off about the place.

Today was different though. He wasn’t sure why, but he was just frozen there. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to just peek in your window. It’s not like you would get mad at him if he was caught. You were too close for that and he could just say he wanted to see you which was never really a lie.

Looking around, Josuke was able to find a fire escape that he could use. It was old and looked like it was broken in a lot of places, but that wouldn’t be a problem for him when he had Crazy Diamond. No one would think to check there either since most people wouldn’t be able to climb it. And it went right up to the top floor!

Being careful not to make any noise, he slowly started to climb up the structure, repairing it as he went and keeping his eyes on the windows. Most of the lights were on so he could get a pretty good view inside.

It looked basic enough. There was one bathroom and two bedrooms on the second floor. You had left a tube of chapstick open near the sink next to a basic razor and some toothpaste. Part of him wondered what would make you leave the room in that much of a hurry, but another part of him thought about how you probably spread it all over your lips every morning. Now he was thinking about your lips. How soft they would be. Would they taste like the chapstick when you finally kissed him?

A shadow of movement caught out of the corner of his eye pulled him away from though thoughts. Something was moving in one of the bedrooms! He quickly pressed his body against the wall, moving close enough to get a good look.

You were sitting on your bed, doing something on your phone. You looked cute when you were slightly tired, but there was something else there under the surface. It wasn’t just the usual sadness. It was something a little bit more...tense. Like you were trying to relax but something was holding you back.

He watched you suddenly jump up at something and scramble to put your phone away, but apparently you weren’t quick enough to do it before someone unlocked the door from the outside. Someone walked into your room that he assumed must be your father, going over to the window. Luckily he seemed to have his back turned and wasn’t looking out of it.

He couldn’t make out your dad’s face, but he could see yours becoming pale and blank. There were some words exchanged that he also couldn’t make out from where he was, but your eyes just kind of....glazed over. He had seen that look on your face before, usually on some of your worse days where you needed him to cheer you up extra hard.

After a while of just sitting there and not really being able to tell what was going on, you finally walked over as slowly as you could and handed your phone to the man. Huh. Your family must be kind of strict about this kind of thing. It was weird for him to be treating you like that when you were an adult though.

Suddenly, your dad turned around to stare out the open window and Josuke only had a moment to side away from it before he was spotted. Unfortunately, he didn’t pick the most stable place for his footing and the rusty metal fell out from under him, leaving him dangling by the railing he had grabbed onto.

Crap, did your dad see him?! Did you see him?!

He just hung there for a few minutes, not making any move to drop down to the ladder or pull himself up just yet. It felt like they dragged on forever. He was just waiting to see a face in the window that would ruin his chances of ever seeing you again. His chest was as tight as a vice grip and he felt like he was struggling to breath normally.

But after a while there just....wasn’t one. No face in the window, no voice screaming at him and telling him to leave. It was weird, but he let out a sigh of relief, feeling his whole body relax as he slowly pulled himself up before making his way back to the ladder. He was still in the clear, but it was probably time to leave. The plan had been kind of risky from the beginning, even if seeing you was worth it.

As he went down each rung, he wondered if he could try this again sometime. Maybe find a way to actually take something that smelled like you. Or tasted like you. He still couldn’t really get over the chap stick.

When he finally got to the ground, his foot hit something hard that was just laying there, making him flinch.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You ran down the street as fast as your legs could carry you. Of the terrible things that could happen, being late to work on one of the most important days was something you really wanted to avoid. You didn’t have an alarm to tell you when you needed to get out of bed, so you ended up sleeping in an extra hour. On top of that, you couldn’t find your work clothes ad you had no way of calling in.

When you got there, you were of course fired on the spot. You wish you could say that this was the first time you had been put in this situation, but it really wasn’t. You had a streak of being late like this. It didn’t happen every day, but it had happened enough for you to get several warnings.

You knew there was a good chance this would happen, but that didn’t make this suck any less. You just wanted to have money to spend on things for yourself. You just wanted to save enough to eventually move out. The money you had would last you until you found another job, but all the hours you spent breaking your back at the job you just lost were for nothing.

You walked over to a park nearby and sat down on a bench, shaking. It could have been from either anger or fear. You felt like you were going to cry at any second, but the tears just wouldn’t come out. You just wanted to scream. It wasn’t fair! It wasn’t! You just felt so helpless!

You felt someone sit down next to you and put a hand on your shoulder, making you flinch. But when you noticed that it was Josuke, you relaxed slightly. You weren’t sure why he was here or how he managed to find you, but his presence was a welcome one.

“Josuke? I thought you were working today.”

“They gave me the day off. Did something happen...?”

“Josuke I.....they fired me. I came in late because the alarm on my phone wouldn’t go off.”

“Yeah, it usually doesn’t go off when the whole thing gets smashed like that.”

You gave him a confused look before he reached into his pocket and fished something out, handing it to you. You almost dropped the object when you saw what it was. It was your phone! Completely intact and unbroken like nothing had ever happened to it!

“How did you....?!”

“Let’s just say I’m really good at fixing things. It should be working too.”

You had no idea what to even say. Your phone was basically your lifeline since you weren’t allowed to have a computer. Without it, finding a job could have taken you even longer and you would be isolated from looking at the world or talking to you best friend late at night. Really, it was one of the only escapes you had sometimes.

When you heard the loud banging outside last night after it was dropped out the window, you were sure it was done for. You couldn’t see it on the ground when your father left the room and you were able to check, but you were still pretty sure it hadn’t survived the drop. But now? Josuke was just handing it to you like nothing ever happened to it.

You quickly turn it on and see that he’s right, it’s working like he said it was. You reach over and pull him into a tight hug, which looked like it really caught him off guard, but he quickly returned it, wrapping his arms around you tightly as you buried your face in his chest. You could finally feel the tears coming out as your body allowed you to let go.

You had hope again.

“Thank you Josuke. I’m....I’m not sure what I would do without it. It’ll still take me a while to find another job but-”

You felt one of his hands rubbing your back soothingly.

“Hey, it’s fine. I have a lot of money y/n. I don’t mind helping you out for a while until things get better. I can support you for as long as you need me to.”

“You would really do that....?”

“Of course I would y/n. I would do anything for you.”

You just leaned against him and smiled as he held you close, listening to his heartbeat. Something about him just always felt safe and comforting. You knew he was right. He was always there when you needed him even at the most unexpected times. It was like he just knew.

You had never had anyone care about you this much in your entire life.

You can feel your own heartbeat racing now as you pull your head up to stare into his blue eyes. He really was beautiful, wasn’t he? Had you just never noticed it before?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything went perfectly! He gave the phone back and you even hugged him and let him touch you! He originally just wanted to do it to make you happy, but getting the affection meant that the two of you were almost MEANT to be together at this point. He could tell from the way you looked at him!

Of course, he probably shouldn’t have waited to return the phone. He was upset to hear that your boss fired you over something like that. If he had known you didn’t have an alarm clock he wouldn’t have kept it for so long. Your old boss would have to be punished now. But part of him couldn’t resist the urge to look through it. It was only fair since he was the one who fixed it for you, right?

The first thing he checked were all the text messages that looked like they might be from people your age. He wanted to make sure that no one else was trying to date you. It wasn’t that he thought you weren’t loyal to him, but you were pretty enough and people like your co workers wouldn’t know you were already taken.

While he was satisfied with what he saw from most of the people you knew, something in his gut was telling him to search through the conversations with one more of your contacts.

The conversation started with your father telling you to call him. Josuke could vaguely remember that you had stayed late that day after having to cover for one of your co workers. Something about it seemed kind of demanding. Maybe how it was phrased?

Or maybe he was looking into it too much? But the replies didn’t get much better. There was nothing but continuing demands for you to talk to him. The last thing he texted said that he would come and find you and you “wouldn’t like it”. This was when you decided to reply to say what happened and the conversation stopped.

He bit his lip. Maybe jumping to conclusions wasn’t the right move. Maybe he could find out more. He was lucky enough to spot an app that might give him some answers. It was a cute one with an animal on it, but he recognized it as one that was made for tracking mental health.

He opened it up and scrolled over to a calendar function where the user could track their good days and their bad days. He winced when most of the thing was filled up with red frowning face symbols, but he also wasn’t surprised since he knew your mood was pretty low when he ran into you most of the time.

He tapped one of the red symbols on the calendar and a bubble popped up over the day saying “Anxiety”. Were you scared that something bad was going to happen...? He tapped on another one. This time it read “Nightmares”. That seemed to add up. He remembered how tired you were that day. He bought you some coffee and it seemed to help a little bit. Every time you smiled it was etched into his memory. In fact, pretty much every moment he spent with you was.

Then he tapped the one matching the day from the text conversation, his eyes widening at the words that appeared on the screen. Maybe this wasn’t real. Maybe he was seeing things. You wouldn’t....

Josuke had seen enough. He quickly closed the phone, clenching his fist and trying not to break the thing again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You got home late after wandering around and checking out some places you saw job listings for. Despite the fact that Josuke had offered to help you, you felt a little bit bad taking his money. You really didn’t want to be a burden. It would be better if you got a new job as soon as you could so that you could pay him back.

You went to grab your keys and unlock the door but it was....already open? That was strange. Your dad probably just forgot to lock it this time. Oh well. It’s probably better this way since he’ll be pretty angry at you if he catches you coming back this late.

As you step into the house, you notice that the lights are off and it’s really quiet. It looks like you got lucky this time around. He was likely in bed if he wasn’t by the door waiting for you at this point. You would get to have a peaceful relaxing night without worrying. You probably needed one of those.

As soon as you set foot in the kitchen though, you hear a voice that fills you with a cold dread. “Where’s that boyfriend of yours?”

Your father is standing in front of the door to your room. You can’t make out the look on his face in the dim light, but you don’t need to to know that you weren’t going to get a night to relax after all. You mentally curse yourself for thinking you were safe.

“You mean Josuke? No we aren’t...he isn’t my boyfriend. I was just looking for another job.”

“Enough.”

 You go silent. Your brief attempt at arguing your case had failed and you knew from experience that nothing could change what was about to happen. He had already made up his mind that he was going to punish you before you even walked in the door. Reason wouldn’t help you anymore.

“You know you aren’t allowed to stay out late. You’re a smart girl. I raised you better than this. I raised you to be a problem solver, not a problem maker.”

You just nod, instinctively backing up. Your mind was on leaving, but you knew you couldn’t. You didn’t have anywhere else to go and he was standing right in front of the door to your room so you couldn’t escape there either.

“You should stay away from that boy. I caught him climbing all over the fire escape the other night. He can’t be up to anything good.”

“I’m sure it must have been a cat or something. Josuke wouldn’t have any reason to be out there.”

You hear a fist slam into the wall and you jump, your whole body preparing itself for the worst as you tense up again. Damn, you knew you should have just kept your mouth shut. Why did you feel like you had to defend Josuke to him at all?!

“I’m a parent and I know these things. Stop making me the bad guy. I’ve done everything for you. I feed you. I give you you a roof over your head. How can you be so cruel and heartless y/n? Don’t you trust me? Your mother would have never wanted this.”

You could hear the volume and tone in his voice rising with each word, like a scalding pot about to boil over. At the mention of your mother you grit your teeth. You wanted to scream. You wanted to throw things. But you couldn’t. You had to stay calm. You were an adult. You could leave after you had money. You just had to wait a little longer.

“This is the third time you’ve been late this month. Just be glad she’s not around to see what you’ve turned into.”

You’re about to let everything out. To just let go of the last little bit of control. But before you can scream, your dad beats you to it. At first you think that he’s going to try to break your arm again, but then you realize that it’s a scream of pain, not anger when you notice the liquid dripping onto the ground in the brief light from a car passing by outside.

“Shut the hell up!”

You pull out your phone for a flashlight and stare wide eyed at the scene in front of you. Josuke was standing behind your father with a look on his face that you had never seen before. You had witnessed him losing it a few times when someone insulted his hair, but this went well beyond that. It was something much more wild and dangerous.

Your father coughed and grasped at the fresh hole in his abdomen. You had no idea how he had done it or how it was possible, but Josuke had made it go clean through. You could see the wall on the other side as the organs spilled out onto the ground, painting the floor with more fluids as they did so.

You don’t know how to react to this, or even how to process it. It was like you were watching something out of a horror movie. You knew you should be sad. That you should be scared. That you should probably run. Josuke had broken into your house and killed the person that had raised you.

But you weren’t feeling those things. Instead under all of the layers of shock, there was the knowledge that he would never be able to hurt you again.

As the body slumped to the ground, that blind rage that Josuke had been in seemed to immediately end as his eyes turned to you and softened with concern and he ran over to you.

“Y/n? Are you ok? Did he do anything to you?”

He quickly pulls you into a hug and you return it, squeezing him as tightly as you can. None of this felt real. None of this could be real. What had just happened? You didn’t know how to answer the first part his question because you didn’t actually know if you WERE ok.

“Shh....it’s ok Y/N. Let’s go back to my place. You probably shouldn’t stay here.”

He was right. You still had a million questions for Josuke and you weren’t sure what was going on, but anything would be better than staring at the dead eyes that you had spent your whole life trying not to look at on a face that sung one last song of how you were a failure in every way and didn’t deserve to be happy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After making sure you were safe at his house, Josuke went back to your place to clean up the mess he made and grab some of your things. It didn’t take him very long to clean up the body. All he had to do was repair it to get everything back inside and the ground was spotless after all of the organs and blood were sucked back in like pasta being put in a bag. It made him look a lot more peaceful, like someone who died in their sleep while having a nightmare and woke up at the last second instead of a monster that was about to do something horrible to Y/N.

It was more than the sick bastard deserved, but it couldn’t be helped. At least he could make sure his eyes were still open. That way he could imagine that his soul was stuck in there somewhere as one final punishment for everything he had ever done. Josuke made sure to kick him one last time for good measure.

After fixing the body, Josuke stepped into your room. He had never been in here before because you had never been allowed to have him over. He smiled. Everything in it reminded him of you. It was decorated in a way that really matched your personality. He could just imagine himself laying in bed with you while the two of you cuddled and talked. It was a shame that you wouldn’t be able to come back here, but maybe he could help you make your new room like this.

He moved to the dresser to start packing up a few pieces of your clothing. He could always get you some really cute new outfits, but he knew that there were some things that you really liked to wear because he had seen you in them and memorized the key ones.

When he gets back to his house, you’re still in his bed. You’ve been like this ever since he brought you back. You don’t say anything to him. You just hide in the blankets and stare at the wall.

Josuke sets the clothes down next to you and sits down on the bed, putting a hand on your side. You don’t seem to react to it at all.

“Hey. I brought you some things in case you need them. How are you doing y/n?”

You still didn’t respond. He needed to kick it up a notch. What kind of boyfriend would he be if he just let you sit there like this? He was sure with enough care you would be yourself again. It would be fine.

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you into another hug.

You still didn’t respond.

“Y/n?”

You slumped over with your eyes wide open. Something wasn’t right here. Something was very wrong. And there were some things that Crazy Diamond couldn’t heal. Neither could his love for you.

Josuke’s tears kept falling as your body got colder. But you were already too far gone to notice as the pill bottle slipped out of your hand.

#jjba yandere #yandere josuke #josuke x reader #abuse #death #suicide #gore #angst #Omg there is so much angst #unedited work

[austajunk]

Game of Despair (fic)

Chapter One: Despair Gamer

Summary: Surviving through her massive injuries following the ending of the Despair Arc, Chiaki Nanami has fallen after her fellow classmates have become Remnants of Despair. However, when altercations with a certain Servant brings up the chance to find a special person that she lost once again, Chiaki and the aforementioned problematic Servant have no choice but to traverse the apocalypse to bring Izuru Kamukura back to the light of Hope…maybe!

Rating: Mature (because duh)

Warnings: Gore, death, general manipulation and Remnants of Despair Shenanigans

A/N: Hey there. Originally this was a fan comic on tumblr that I did, but due to the scale of the project, I decided it would work better as a fic. The introduction to this fic is different from the fan comic just so I could keep things fresh to write. Please enjoy! You can also find this fic on AO3 if you prefer to read there. I’ll link later.

Games were supposed to be fun. Anyone could play them and they could be played together. It didn’t matter if it was a bad game or if the person you were playing with had any talent whatsoever. It wasn’t the point. The point was to get closer to another person.

At least, that was the philosophy Chiaki Nanami once went by. Games were something that made her happy, but another thing that chained her down at the same time. By being the Super High School Level Gamer, she was locked to her beloved talent and didn’t see any way to open herself to others. That was until she met Hajime Hinata and her teacher, Chisa Yukizome, had showed the strawberry-haired gamer that it was possible to form all the connections she wanted in her life through her talent. For the first time in her life, she had started to feel complete at Hope’s Peak Academy. She was the Class Representative of a band of Ultimate students who were anything but normal... but she loved them with all her heart.

Until the claws of Despair ripped everything away from her, that was. Chiaki Nanami was now a shell of her former self, but that was okay. With her mind filled with nothing but an urge to induce chaos, she couldn’t feel anything for the person she once was. If she couldn’t remember that person, what were they really worth?

—

The fiery skies poured overhead and mixed with the blackness of the night. There was no possible way to see the stars anymore at this point so deep into the end of the world. The only light that could be seen was from a small Nantendo game screen flickering. A girl with pink hair and discolored pink and red eyes leaned against some wreckage, watching as several people ran from demolished buildings and screamed in anguish for their loved ones. Children, women, and even grown men sobbed as a waterfall of bullets cascaded down on their bodies from above.

“You’re losing, you know?” The gamer sighed, twirling a small finger around some of her peach-tinted hair.

On her game screen, a hoard of bullets were raining down on a mass of zombies, massacring them on her side of the screen. The zombie side was fading pitifully fast, their organs squishing from the onslaught of shots.

Beside Chiaki, a man was trembling with the Nantendo in his hand. Sweat was pouring down the front of his head and his breathing was heavy. It looked as though the pale-faced man was going to pass out at any moment. His eyes were blood shot. He had been at this for hours, all to keep the game going and going and going... but it felt like one big, mad, never-ending spiral. He just wanted to drop the game, but all his hostages and prizes were dying all around him the moment he showed any weakness. A large black collar around his neck was tightening every time a point fell from his score. His throat was so constricted that his lips were starting to get purple.

Oh well, Chiaki thought. She was starting to get bored of this anyways. It was really sad though. For a few sweet moments, she had felt an exhilaration like no other. Her entire body had tensed, heat caking her cheeks. She wanted to drop the game and throw herself at the poor man beside her, to rub her curvaceous body against him until she got off on human contact alone when his score had gotten ahead. But alas, that sort of contact had started to wane on his score... and Chiaki’s interests.

“This is disappointing,” said Chiaki, obliterating the rest of the man’s score. Her side of the screen flashed WINNER in big bright red letters and the man beside her squealed in terror. He started convulsing and screaming, the air in his lungs dissipating fast until he seized over and fell over. His eyes bulged from his skull and his neck was bruised and purple until a satisfying crack sounded from his neck. Well... as satisfying as Chiaki could imagine it anyways.

Watching the man’s corpse go limp, she dropped her handheld game console beside him and simply fished another one from her black and white bear-shaped bag. She tapped the screen to life and began to jab at the buttons as though she wasn’t lying beside someone's corpse on top of a bunch of debris underneath a smoke-encrusted sky of darkness. But that was just the world.

Shrieks and screams of agony littered the sky, joining together to create a chaos-induced despair. It was probably the biggest death count Chiaki had earned so far. Her victim, to his credit, had lasted a total of thirteen hours before his score declined and Chiaki’s interest dropped. It was pleasurable until he waned. Now Chiaki was content to just let the cries in the night be silenced as the conclusion of their game (with real human casualties) and to just get up and leave. She did so, leaving her purple game console with the man’s corpse as memento and something of her personal signature. All the world would know where to find the person who could bring the greatest challenge of a killing game to them and that was what she wanted.

The gamer longed to find someone who could beat her and make her feel alive again. Or to feel anything at all. Even if Chiaki knew that she was nowhere close to feeling anything anymore. “My purpose... is Despair,” she uttered to no one in particular, merely touching her forehead as though to remind herself of that fact. It was foolish to stray, foolish to want or desire anything in such a world. Something like that almost seemed like a spec of Hope was left in her heart... which was impossible once the legendary Junko Enoshima snuffed it out.

Thanks to Junko, all the games in the world would not suffice to bring Chiaki Nanami back. One by one, she had been forced to watch her classmates fall into Despair, to watch them torture, massacre and rape others in Junko’s image. Chained to a wall, she watched for over a year as blood sprayed across a dingy massive screen that Junko had left her to view the carnage. She had been tormented and stuck in Hope’s Peak Academy until the last inch of Hope was executed from her body, until she finally wavered and gave into Despair. With the last specs of good will drained from her, the chains around her neck slipped off and she was allowed to walk free in this ruined world... where it felt entirely purposeless to live. But that was the point.

Everything was ruined. Her life was only good for making everyone else experience her own personal Despair. And Chiaki had set to it.

And as far as she was concerned, games were meant to be shared with everyone. Even the bad ones…

—

On the eastern side of a Towa city, a dingy and caved-in subway had been remodeled into a small chamber for the Despair Gamer. She always returned there to rest or to just recollect herself whenever she was bored or wanted to avoid the other Despairs. A bunch of pillows were tucked together for a makeshift gaming chair that she was slumped over, absorbed in one of her prized Nantendo titles.

Only the soft clinking of chains from behind roused her attention ever so slightly.

“Ah… that guy from before didn’t keep you occupied for long, did he?” Said a carefree voice behind Chiaki as she played. “For a moment, it looked like he was really doing it for you.”

Chiaki tilted her head, sinking back into her cushioned gaming chair. It wasn’t hard to figure out who the other presence in this fortress of death was, so she didn’t bother to look at him as he went to work on disposing of the body. What she didn’t notice however was that her Servant wasn’t empty-handed. He had entered the chamber with a large burlap sack… one that was squirming eerily.

Nagito Komaeda. To say he gave into Despair wasn’t quite so accurate. Hope would always win in the end… but it had to be challenged, cultivated… yes, becoming Despair was only meant to encourage Hope. And that was why he belonged to the other Remnants of Despair. He was theirs to use as they saw fit, but he just could not help returning to her again and again. Chiaki Nanami was like a serial killer by now… one complete with a soft, pudgy face and wide, innocent eyes. Utterly fascinating that one so lovely and gentle could rip apart so many people. Despair really had power over others… an alluring, undeniable, sick and twisted power… all Servant wanted to do was be there to witness Hope shatter the monster before him that Despair had created.

But until that happened… oh, how thoughts of Junko Enoshima made the heat swell through every inch of his body…

As if craving her attention, Servant spoke to her again. She could practically feel the grin etched on his face. “Have you gotten so used to the stench of death, Chiaki? You’re actually letting the corpses decompose around you now…” He nodded his head to rotting cadavers left at the back of the room. Perhaps Chiaki had forgotten they were there?

Chiaki’s lips twitched into a small frown, more so from being interrupted. Servant was a strange one. He had something familiar about him, like someone she should remember but it simply did not occur to her to try and do so. If he caused no reaction in her, then that was all there was to it whether she recalled him or not. The pale-haired boy seemed to follow her about like a puppy-dog, sometimes aiding her in procuring or disposing of victims whenever they met up. Chiaki had considered simply killing him, but something in her intuition told her that playing a Killing Game with the likes of him simply wasn’t a wise choice. And straight up slaughtering him was too kind, too merciful. How was she to invoke Despair in the name of Junko Enoshima if she simply hacked up his body?

And so, Chiaki found herself lifting her head at the jostling of chains behind her, watching the metal links swing side to side from around the Servant’s neck. He had a large grin painted on his face as he always did, taking a seat across from her in her little chair. “I guess the smell of death caught me off guard last time,” she mused thoughtfully to him, uncaring if he was really here for conversation or not. He did as he pleased and proved to be quite the clingy individual. But so long as he did the dirty work, Chiaki didn’t mind occasionally indulging him.

“It made me sick... but... now I don’t smell anything. I wonder if I’ve destroyed my sense of smell. Or my brain simply cares less and less each time...” Chiaki said with sigh, curling up in her chair and reaching for her games again. “Why did you come back?” It was really annoying when Chiaki was content to be left alone with her games for the rest of eternity. Alas victims were hard to come by in the apocalypse. Something about people wanting to salvage their lives. She couldn’t understand that. People were going to be slaughtered en masse either way, so shouldn’t they be trying to find the best way to have fun?

That was what Ultimate Despair Gamer was for. To teach others that life was just one big game and if they weren’t having fun, well... their lives didn’t amount to much, did they?

Servant tilted his head at her, his green eyes holding her emotionless gaze for a moment. “Oh, yes! I actually brought you another gift. I don’t want to be too optimistic, but…” He gestured to the struggling brown sack beside him. “I think this may really be the one. If he can’t satisfy you a little more than your usual prey, then I’ll take full responsibility…”

“Hm?” Chiaki stood up and slowly drifted over to the squirming sack that the Servant had left in the middle of the room. A gift? For her? A light blush crept onto her cheeks as she approached the bag and knelt down to pull it back. As soon as she saw the victim awaiting her, a jolt of electric joy shot through her. She gasped lightly and watched as the person’s light chestnut hair spiked up into her view. This was... No... why was the sight of the person’s hair inspiring such a range of emotions on her face? Her eyes lit up and a shudder ran through her body. She wanted to pull the captive close to her already.

Lightly, she pulled the gag from his lips and let him cough and sputter. He wanted to scramble away from the bizarre Gamer, but she quickly grabbed ahold of his shoulders and urged him closer to her. Her breasts rested against his front and she nuzzled him almost affectionately. Startled by the cute girl’s sudden comforting presence, the man didn’t want to feel at ease, especially with her twisted smile flashing down upon him. But at the same time... she seemed harmless. Perhaps a little deranged? But soft and pretty enough... He shakily steadied her against him, wondering if she was the prisoner of this strange, messed up death chamber just like he was. He barely took notice of the boy behind her with the manic grin and kept his eyes trained on her.

“Wh-Where am I...?” The chestnut-haired student asked her. At least, he appeared to be a student with his plain white uniform and dark trousers. A pair of glasses rested askew on his nose. “Are you a prisoner too?! Did that guy kidnap you?”

Chiaki couldn’t help but to tense at the guy’s caring voice, the way he put concern for her before anything else. Even himself. It felt so familiar and she was melting on the inside. Her face became more twisted, more heated and aroused. This was the one! He had to be the one! He was going to play with her until she could finally lie down and let the cold grip of death eclipse her. A final game where she could be happy, fulfilled, complete—

“What’s your name?” Chiaki asked him lightly, trying to hide the frantic blush on her cheeks. This was so embarrassing. Her heart was fluttering for him.

“Ahhh? Oh... Um, Yusuke?” The man responded, looking around. “Look, why don’t we try to find a way out of here before that guy shows up again? That mastermind!”

“Hm?” Chiaki crossed her legs. “Oh... him. He doesn’t matter. What matters is... well... do you like games, Yusuke?” Her soft voice almost held a low purr to it.

Suddenly, there was a sense of unease in the air. Yusuke blinked and pushed up his glasses. “Um...games?”

—

A small tear trickled over the pale, dead face of her latest victim. After hours and hours and hours of gaming, Yusuke had simply crumpled over. All throughout the week, he had kept Chiaki occupied. Even when he sobbed to her and begged her to let him go, Chiaki was completely enthralled with him. Not a single one of her victims had been so satisfying. He must have truly adored her to keep up such a unique concentration to whatever game she picked out for them to play. He cared for her... he must have loved her to play with her all this time. But then... it was as though his body simply gave out.

Now Yusuke’s corpse decorated the floor of her room, his body still warm from how hard it had worked to bring her even an ounce of joy. Chiaki lingered beside him, her face twisted with what could truly be called Despair. It wasn’t fair. He loved her. Why did he break under all the gaming? She could go forever...

Servant watched her from the corner of the chambers, a small sigh leaving his lips. Something about her actions had slightly disturbed him. For close to a week, he had watched Chiaki become truly elated. It was like she was a different person. And now the young man he had offered up to her was nothing more than a body getting colder by the moment. She drained every last agonizing bit of life from him. It was so thoughtless, so empty…

“I wonder why you don’t just let them rest…” He said, stepping forward as if to pull Chiaki away from the body. “Oh well. I’ll find you a new toy. That will satisfy you!” What hollow words. There was nothing out there that could satisfy the monster before him. That was probably the most horrifying thing about her… but it made him utterly enthralled with her.

“...It’s never going to be enough...” Chiaki said solemnly as she heard the rustling of chains clinking in the background. She knew Servant was behind her, waiting for the body to be disposed of, but Chiaki didn’t want to let it go.

“This was the... the best one... and he wasn’t even enough. Nowhere close... He was like a barrel of love... and I need an ocean... I...I...” She trembled, stifling a sob. Even as a Remnant of Despair, it wasn’t like she lacked feelings... even if they were only centered on herself and self-preservation.

She sighed a hollow bitter sigh and stood up, giving Yusuke’s body a savage kick with her boots. After watching the dirt from her shoes smear his cheek, she turned around and walked past Servant.

“The person you’re searching for… he doesn’t exist anymore…”

Chiaki suddenly clutched her chest tightly as though she were in pain. There was an unbearable pounding in her head. Make it stop… it had to stop… why couldn’t she ignore it?

“I’m not staying here. I’m... I’m going to leave. I want to find something else...something I lost.” The words left her lips before she even realized it. She could almost envision that person with the same chestnut hair and soft, sincere smile. But she didn’t remember his name... not a bit…

Just as she headed to the entrance of the chamber that Servant was leaning against, a foot suddenly kicked up to block her exit. She stepped back and looked at Servant, a frown working onto her gentle features.

“Ah… I thought we may hit this little snag,” Servant said, his smile fading slightly. “You’ve lost a lot of things. It won’t help you to search for all of them! More than likely, you’ll never find anything!” He put his hands together, pleading. “Let me find you another toy! The next one will satisfy you for sure.”

“What..? I…” Chiaki blinked and rubbed her eyes. Those words were making her feel just a tad woozy.

“There, there,” Servant cooed, entwining his arm with hers to lead her away from the door. “Won’t you stay here with me, Chiaki? Just for today… don’t look for what you can’t find. Just stay here today.” Forever. He intended to keep her as long as he could. Hope had to be protected.

And the person she wanted… that same person lit up his entire world as well. The thoughts of that person…

“Chiaki, just stay here… ah, I know,” said Servant behind her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, “let’s play a game together. You and me. If you win—“

“Then I leave,” muttered Chiaki. Then she blinked again in realization.

The smell of this chamber was starting to get to her. Perhaps it was because the last toy truly was something she did like. She couldn’t stop playing with him until he broke. But Chiaki wasn’t looking at the remnants of her beloved toy anymore. Instead, she peered at the filthy walls and floors of her game chamber. Decayed bits of body parts were strewn about across the floor and the stench was starting to become invasive again.

How long had she been in these chambers? She couldn’t remember when she had first entered, only that soon after, the Servant had appeared. He would scavenge for food and toys for her, to keep her occupied and “satisfied” with any new playthings he happened to procure. Chiaki groaned, her head feeling a bit heavy. “Ungh...” She clutched her face, trying to ignore the stench of death wafting in the air. Something about the charming spell of this place was starting to wear off fast and she quite despised it.

Chiaki shook her head, trying to brush off the sickening realization that she just didn’t know how long she had been in a chamber like this, playing games with toy after toy after toy. How many had she killed? Well... they existed to please her, so it didn’t matter. But... when had she last stepped outside? When had she tried to leave? Every time she had risen from her chair to peer out into the world, the Servant would give her a friendly wave and insist that he would go out to bring her food or more toys. It was all just too irksome.

She turned back to Servant. “I want to leave.”

“Of course. If you’re ready, you’ll win,” said Servant cheerfully, waving his obscured hand. “But if I win… hmm… how about this? For every game you lose against me, I’ll alter your appearance just a little…”

“Alter my appearance…?”

Servant nodded, motioning for her to take a seat back in her Gamer chair.

“That’s right. For every game you fail,” he said, letting his voice trail off just a bit, “I’ll remodel you to look a bit more like Lady Junko Enoshima each time.”

“Of course, are you really sure you want to play?”

[horrorslashergirl]

The Lurking One: A Shadow Horror Story

Authors Note: Decided to write a story for my newest Slasher OC, Shadow. People seem to really like him, despite him not having a face claim. lol

Warning: 18+ for horror, gore and torture, plus add in trauma

Words: 2.4k words

It was one of these late at night study sessions for the ones that slacked during the year and had to catch up with what they lost; Giula was one of them and she cursed herself for letting her time be filled with sorority activities and parties.

The Northeastern University campus was empty save for the security guard; Guila being the only student who was currently in the library catching up to a project that was due to tomorrow. She could have done it back at the sorority house, but she knew the girls would distract her and tempt her with other activities such as preparing for a college festival that was in two weeks.

Her grades were more important than social activities that would print into her status, not to mention her parents who had a talk with her about the fact that college wasn't a gateway for drinking and hooking up with guys.

Guila sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose, checking the old antique clock of the library.

10:35 PM

Her gaze moved back to the tons of files and books on the wood desk she was sat at. She just finished the project, but she needed to revise it to make sure everything was perfectly done. The grade for this project was important and she wasn't looking for another discussion with her parents and the headmaster.

She will look it over in the morning; she needed to be fresh tomorrow for the presentation and looking like a crackhead in front of the judges wasn't a pro in the book. Putting everything back into her bag neatly, she pulled her hair out of the tight ponytail, letting her auburn locks fall freely down her back, almost to the hips.

Walking out of the library and locking the door; thank God the old library lady was a sweetheart and left the keys for her to close. She walked down the hallways and taking the old victorian ascensor to the low floor. Before she could exit the building she stopped by the cubicle of the security guard, handing him the keys.

"All done for tonight, dear?" Arthur asked, taking the keys and setting them on his desk.

"Well, finally so. I will have to own Mrs. Hariot for leading me the keys to the library." Giula told the old man with a smile.

"Ahhh...She's an angel among here. Trust me, it was her pleasure." he old the girl, sitting back down at his desk, a copy of  Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen was on the desk.

"Have a good night without incidents, Sir." Giula told the gentleman guard who nodded.

"Nothing ever happens around here. Kids nowadays don't read books anymore, so I don't think someone will try to break into the library." Arthur joked, making Giulia giggle and nod, although feeling a little by what he said.

"I suppose so. Good night." the girl waved off, stalking towards the exit.

"Likewise, dear!" Arthur called after her, going back to the classic novel.

As she opened the door, a chilly air hit Giulia in the face, making her wrap her arms around herself. It was definitely colder than when she got in the morning here. It was earlier spring, the days warm, but the nights reminding that the winter just recently moved away.

She was wearing a white button-down with dark blue jeans and some ballet flats that made her legs all shaky; her light brown cardigan not helping at all. She couldn't wait to get back to the sorority house and bask in the warmness of her bed and away from the coldness of the night.

It was just a 20 minutes long time walk to the house, but it seemed like much more to her now that she was all alone and shivering like a hairless cat.

Mentally, she cursed her parents for not letting her drive, always scolding her that she wasn't ready. Overly protective parents and their old school mentality always made Giulia feel like she was still a baby. She was 22 and in the second year of college for Christ's sake.

She couldn't wait to finish college and get a job; Oh the dream of having her own apartment and not having to deal with doll-like girls who owned Porches all because of their wealthy daddies. Now thinking more about it, she was the only one who didn't have an overly rich family; maybe the girls kept her because she was the only one who was first to clean a mess, make breakfast when the others were hungover.

The streets were all deserted, none was outside, most people here being locals since birth or college students who basked in cheap beer and gossips at this hour.

This neighbor that gave off hostel-like vibes made her skin be covered in goosebumps, smelling a faint scent of weed, beer and hearing the music blasting from the apartments above. The police wouldn't come to stop the noise, since there was none to be bothered by the hypnotic beat.

Guila could feel eyes on her, but every time she turned around to take a look there was none, just the slight wet streets and alleyways that adored this place. Each time she passed one, she would halt her walking, afraid two big clawed hands will brisk her away into darkness.

She rolled her eyes as a guy from above cat-called her, probably drunk off his ass, and his girlfriend a few feet away from him at the window making out with his best friend.

Boston really was filled up with these types of students, getting great opportunities and throwing said blessing out the window because of blinding hormones, and the idea of being young means I'm indestructible.

'Just 10 more minutes and you will be home.' Giulia thought to herself, but it quickly went off the window as pain shot through her scalp, before she knew it she was dragged into the darkness of an alleyway.

One strong arm wrapped around the middle section of her waist, but the other moved to her neck, feeling the prickle of something cold against her neck; a blade, a knife, something that was indeed sharp.

"Scream and you can say arrivederci to your precious vocal cords." the person that held her spoke, voice raspy and very eerie, definitely a male.

"P-Please...Don't kill me." Giulia whispered, afraid that if she raises her voice too much, he won't keep on his promises.

"Shush now. I heard that line all too many times and it gets very monotonous." the man spoke right by her ear, running what she assumed was a scalpel over her cut, not slitting her throat, but surely making a small cut to show that he wasn't playing games.

She was panicking, her breathing getting more on the hysterical edge, then she did the first thing she could think of. She kicked him in one of his shins, making him groan, but he didn't back off. He did throw her in the opposite direction of the alleyway against the brick wall. Giulia grunted and whimpered as she hit the ground right into a puddle.

Her hazel eyes looked up and she felt terror strick her as he stalked over to her wet and bruised form, like a panther ready to pounce on its prey. She could scream, but the music from the apartments above was so loud she wouldn't have a chance in someone hearing her.

One cold leather-gloved hand wrapped around her neck and he slammed her back into the wall, showing so much strength that got her the image of him snapping her tiny neck like a twig.

"That was some dirty move you put up there, little wench. Although I am a very patient man." he whispered, and now that he was in front of her, she could make out what he looked like.

He was wearing all black, probably a very expensive tailored suit with a scarlet red tie, not even a glimpse of skin was shown. What really caught her attention was his vintage-looking fedora and the creepy raven like a mask. 

A doctor purge mask? She heard of them from her brother who was very into history.

"W-Who are you?" Giulia choked, his hand tightening around her throat at the question.

He hummed like he was deep in thought.

"I think the public eye has birthed me as the Shadow." he answered her question.

It took only a few seconds for Giulias eyes to widen and her body to tremble. She heard on the news about him; the unknown brutal killer, never seen, none to survive to tell the story and how they described his murderers on television.

The killer known now as Shadow chuckled at her horrified face.

"Ahhhh....So you heard of me. Good. I hate to explain information to someone who cannot even work their brain enough to avoid someone dangerous." he mused, making the young woman whimper and cry, then she began to swing her legs in an attempt to hurt him.

Only for her head to be slammed multiple times against the brick wall until her vision blacked and she fell on the dirty ground by the pristine black Oxfords he was sporting.

----------------------------------

The lightbulb above flickered to life and Giulia opened her eyes, looking around like a desperate animal caged, or more like chained by her neck, a metal collar digging into the skin of her neck and creating red and purple marks.

Her doe-like eyes looking around and stopped on the black-clad figure.

The Shadow.

"Ahh...I'm glad you're awake. I might think I hit your head too many times on the brick wall. I usually prefer drugging my victims, but you were acting like too much of a mindless animal." he began to spoke so fluently, calm, like everything that was going on was a normal occurrence for him; like discussing the weather over a few drinks.

The man was laying some tools neatly on a metal table; surgical tools, like scalpels, forceps, scissors, retractors, and clamps. Giulia felt a bile form in her throat, starting to tug on the heavy chain that was bounded against the concrete wall; no luck.

"Let m go, you fucker!" she screamed and in an instant, her back meet the cold wall, gloved hand grasping her jaw tightly as the leather beak of the mask brushed against her face.

"You smell putrid, although there is that faint strawberry scent of your perfume." he commented, fingertips digging more into her jaw and making her whimper and sob.

In his free hand, he held a pair of surgical retractors and her eyes widened when he forced her mouth open, one finger pulling her upper lip to expose her pearly white teeth and pink gums.

"You have a nice set of teeth there. I adore your canines especially." he whispered, then he grasped one of her canines with the retractor, tugging on it and forcing a pain-filled scream from Giulia; the next twin teeth following. 

Her tears filled eyes looking as he held both canines between black covered fingers.

"Very impeccable indeed." he murmured, going back to the table.

The metallic taste of blood and sterisol filled her mouth, scarlet dripping down her chin.

She knew this was far from over as his thumb run over the shiny scalpel.

--------------------------------------

Giulia didn't know how much time has flown; one month, maybe two? She hadn't seen the light of the day in so long and she wished dead would overcome her.

She was in so much pain; the things Shadow did to her. First the canines, then her fingernails went off and when she spat on his mask she thought she was going to die as he poured acidic fluid down her scalp; her beautiful long hair was just a burned memory.

Dead was supposed to come, but the sadist treated her wounds like an expert at the hospital, only to remind her that death was far away from her.

Then the begging, telling him what she will do anything, even getting on her knees and possibly giving him new ideas. His words were absolute humiliation.

"I know what you're implying, ignorant wench." he told her as his gloved hands were running down her naked hips, then he left her.

"I'm not a rapist, darling. Never found any fascination with taking someone against their own will in that way. I prefer my slave to be willing, but you're not. So I advise next time you keep these sick fantasies to yourself." he told her, mocking and making her feel even more stupid.

She caught glimpses of him doing awful things to the other girls; one of them skinned alive and every muscle on full display.

"You're just too perfect, aren't you?" he told Giulia, making her a confused mess.

---------------------------------------------

She did manage to trick him when he was busy piercing her earlobes multiple types, having to bite her tongue as she stole the keys to her chains.

Then when he found her moving down the hallways; she almost got her leg blown off when he used a shotgun after her. She had opened the door to the exit and was meet with the night. Running through the forest, looking behind her over and over.

Her luck was finally getting to the principal road and a car passed by, getting in, and again she was in danger. The old man tried to rape her, but she was brave enough to jump out of the car when they were in town.

After 30 minutes of limping around the streets, she finally spotted a police car that was patrolling.

Interrogations followed, but she always spoke the same words, too traumatized by the events.

'He is tall and in all black. He doesn't seem human. No human could do this. He pulled all her skin off like she was a rabbit. His voice, makes me wanna throw up, it's so raspy it makes me wanna be deaf so I cannot hear it anymore in my head. What he did to the other girls...I cannot describe. He said that I'm perfect. What was that supposed to mean?'

Her parents were devasted when they found out about everything that happened and her mother fell on her knees crying over and over when she finally saw Giulia face to face.

The worst was that she could no longer be let on her own; nightmares, voices, aggressive outbursts, and feeling like she was constantly followed. She was scared of her own shadow.

When the police found the whereabouts of where Giulia was held everything was gone, not even a spot of blood like there was none there in the first place.

Why clean it all up if Shadow wanted the bodies to be found in the first place?

Needless to say...Nights in Boston weren't safe anymore.

#The Shadow #Serial Killer #Salem #Boston #Horror story #creepy story #original characters #slasher oc

[feeling-uncomfy]

EYY SHOUTOKO TIMEEEE

Mafia AU part two, featuring a tiny tsundere and a tall himbo. What more can I say? They're a mess

So, warnings are as follows-

- gore/blood

- mentions of abuse(brief)

- kidnapping/drug mention

If there are anymore, they'll be specified at the beginning of the part-

Hope you enjoy! :D

After the fiasco that was Tokoyami getting kidnapped, Hawks had become paranoid. He downright refused to let his little brother out of the apartment they shared for the first two weeks, and his little brother was practically stabled to his side when he was allowed back in the building.

Tokoyami didn't mind at first, though after a while he started to get annoyed. He wanted to have just one moment of peace, and the only way he could get it was by going to the bathroom. But if he took too long, Hawks would freak out and break the door down.

It was like he'd developed some form of separation anxiety, he couldn't stand being apart from his little brother. It ended up turning into an argument between him and Endeavor, and what a sight that was. Hawks and Endeavor rarely fought, but when they did, it was lengthy and loud.

Todoroki and Tokoyami never usually minded, but at this rate it had been a week and they were still arguing over letting someone come over and help upgrade the security.

"Will they ever shut up?" Todoroki asked, raising his voice to be heard over the yelling. Tokoyami shrugged, looking over at his older brother and Endeavor. "I hope so, I'm getting tired of the yelling," for some reason, both of them froze after Tokoyami's words. Ah, right, the last time this had happened, Dabi had made an appearance.

Luckily, he was nowhere to be seen, and they both relaxed. Hawks stopped yelling, a true miracle, and Tokoyami looked over.

Hawks seemed to be thinking about something, whatever it was, he was obviously putting a lot of thought and consideration into it. This could either be great for the company, or an absolute disaster for it.

Most likely the latter, knowing Hawks.

Hawks sighed. Endeavor had suggested asking Gang Orca, another high ranking class boss in this world Hawks had grown to call his, to come help with the security. He was very skilled in negotiations, very persistent and persuasive. One thing Hawks knew the man prided himself on was security. Best of the best.

And he wasn't bluffing, either. Hawks had heard stories, seen things. That man was bigger than the three fully decked bodyguards that followed him around. But Hawks knew that it didn't change a thing. If needed, the guards would lay down their life for him, and surprisingly, Hawks was told the favour would be returned. He didn't dare question it.

He'd only met the man once, and he'd describe him as something like a helicopter parent. He was paranoid like all hell, and kept a close eye on the hallway leading up to where he was staying, though Hawks never figured out why. Nor was he told. Apparently it was one of the reasons he was gunned at so much, no one knew what he was hiding.

He'd seen him fight. It was friendly, and yet Hawks still winces at the memories. The man did not hold back, for whatever reason. Apparently the two had a dispute and settled it over a fight. It was brutal even despite the rules set up. Hawks swears he can still hear the sound of teeth cracking.

Aside from that, he was a respected and respectful man. He was polite when others were, and knew what he was talking about. A real leader, and under that wall of brute force Hawks was told there was a soft side to him. One that obviously wasn't shown often.

Hawks knew having his type of security would insure his little brother's safety, he knew it'd be ten times safer. But that didn't mean he was comfortable with this high ranking man who could easily snap his spine in two wandering the place he kept his plans.

Hawks sighed again. Logically he knew he couldn't turn it down. But that didn't mean he had to he comfortable! He didn't like the fact that if he wanted his workplace safe, everything would have to change. Everywhere would be searched and moved.

Endeavor spoke up. "Hawks. Any security I have to offer, or anyone else has to offer would pale in comparison. You want better security, let him do his job." Hawks bit the inside of his cheek to avoid immediately snapping back. Once he was composed, he started speaking. "I'm aware of that, but forgive me if I don't want someone who could easily use all these details against me to snoop!"

Endeavor fired back immediately with a response. "He's not going to snoop, he asks that all important files and documents are taken out, stored correctly, and then once he's done you can put them back," well, that made Hawks feel a little better, but he wasn't convinced.

"He completely reorganised your office! What's to say he won't do that to mine?!" Endeavor gave him a deadpanned stare. "Your office could use reorganising."

The gasp that tore out of Hawks's throat made Tokoyami and Todoroki turn their heads quickly, only to see Hawks with his hand placed dramatically over his heart. "Reorganising?! I'll have you know it's an 'organised mess' bitch! I know where everything is!" Hawks yelled indignantly, honestly offended.

Endeavor just stared at him with a look that screamed 'bitch really?' making Hawks even more mad. Before the petty argument could continue, Endeavor forced them back on topic. Right, security, letting Gang Orca go through his organised chaos.

The only reason he was even considered it was because he wanted Fumikage safe. Other than that? He didn't care, he didn't want to know. Yes, his security was shit, he was aware. But fully decked out bodyguards? Was it really necessary?

Not for him, for Fumikage. Hawks reminded himself that he was doing this for his brother's sake. His safety came first. Always.

"Fine. He can come help." The words were forced out, and it actually hurt Hawks to say, but he said it. Wasn't that enough?

Endeavor nodded and pat his shoulder. "I will have him meet you tomorrow at the earliest," he turned to Todoroki. "Shouto, we're leaving."

Tokoyami and Todoroki seemed to have a mental conversation before Todoroki snorted and stood up, walking over to his father and standing by his side. Tokoyami stood and made his way over to his brother's side. It felt like second nature at this point.

Hawks and Tokoyami said their goodbyes, and the Todoroki's left. Tokoyami looked up at his brother. "Do you want to tell me what that was about?" Tokoyami was, as of late, not in the bests of moods. He was irritated with the constant having to stand by his brother's side and then not get to know why he was even there.

Hawks pat his head. "We're upping our security, that's all," Tokoyami sighed. "The security here is fine, I don't see why you're bothering." Hawks looked down at his brother. His literal will to live, at some points. Hawks brought him in for a hug. "I'm not gonna risk losing you like that again. Ever."

For Hawks, this was a promise. A promise never to let his brother be put through that again. A promise to make up for what happened, he was serious. Never again.

For Tokoyami, it simply felt repeated. He'd heard those words so many times over the past four weeks that Tokoyami wasn't even sure if he meant it at this point.

Nevertheless, Tokoyami was reassured slightly. He trusted Hawks, he trusted his brother. He knew he wouldn't let them down. He knew that Kiego wouldn't let it happen again.

At the end of the day, he trusted his brother.

Hawks pulled back first, and the two went home as normal. Tokoyami curled up on the couch, checking his phone, as normal. Hawks was taking calls and ordering food for them. There was a small dispute on the kind of food. Spicy or plain? Choices were difficult sometimes.

A compromise was made, normally they'd take turns and get one over the other, but recently they've been getting a little bit of both, and now they couldn't remember the order they went in, so the two just agreed to get both each time.

So they sat there, eating their meals, playing video games until Tokoyami couldn't keep his eyes open. Hawks called it quits then and the pair went to sleep as normal. And, almost like a schedule, Tokoyami's nightmares began.

They were all identical, but they scared him shitless without fail every time. The noise of the drill, the pain he felt when it dug into his bones, the face of his kidnapper standing over him one second, laying dead the next.

The word "murderer" kept playing over and over and over again and it wouldn't stop. He couldn't stop it. How much longer until he killed Hawks? Todoroki? He couldn't- he didn't want to—

Tokoyami opened his eyes to the roof, again. He looked around expecting to see the body of Shigaraki, only to him Hawks laying lifeless. No, no surely he didn't do that. Tokoyami wouldn't.

Would he?

Tokoyami ran to his brother's side, shaking him as the rain fell. "Kiego...?" Tokoyami's voice cracked, and when he didn't get a response, he shook harder. "Kiego! Kiego get up! Please–"

Over and over, until Tokoyami couldn't tell the difference between "Kiego" and "Murderer" he screamed.

"Kiego!" Tokoyami sat up with a start, looking around the room. Not a roof, but rain hammered down on his windows like tomorrow wasn't coming. Maybe, a terrible part of Tokoyami thought, maybe Kiego's tomorrow wasn't coming.

Before Tokoyami could even work on untangling himself from the bed sheets, the door burst open. "Fumikage-?! What's wrong!?" Kiego was there, he was alive- he wasn't—

Tokoyami let out a dry sob, curling into himself. One look at the shitty weather and Kiego knew what was wrong. "Hey, it's okay.." helping his brother out of the mess of bed sheets, Kiego noted the tremors and the eye bags his younger brother sported, making him look older.

Kiego hated that his little brother looked like that, he shouldn't. He should be happy, healthy, and not afraid of getting kidnapped every second day. It's not fair on him, but they both knew life wasn't fair.

Kiego gently coaxed his brother to move out from under the sheets, and the two sat there hugging. They weren't sure how long, long enough for Tokoyami to fall asleep again, that's for sure.

Hawks was woken by his phone the next morning, and froze when he saw Gang Orca's ID flash across his screen. He didn't give him his number, or name for that matter. Nevertheless, he picked up.

"Hello?" Hawks's voice was soft, not wanting to wake up his brother. A deep voice answered, sounding like he's been awake for hours. Maybe he was.

"This is Hawks, correct?" Hawks blinked tiredly before answering. He sounded as intimidating as they made him out to be. "Yeah, that's me. What's up?" Gang Orca moved something on his line. "I was told you needed an update on your security?"

Hawks paused. "Yeah.. I do," Endeavor really wasn't pulling his leg when he said that earliest would be tomorrow. "Very well, I will be down to you're office if that's alright with you?" Harks agreed, shaking Tokoyami awake. Gang Orca was silent on his end.

Hawks thought of saying something, but he was beaten to it. "I'm going to be bringing.. my-.. son," Hawks blinked in surprise. "You have a son?" Hawks couldn't keep the blatant surprise out of his voice. Hawks didn't think to question the hesitation when Gang Orca said 'son' though in hindsight, he probably should have. He could then feel the guy's glare on him.

"Yes. Is there a problem?" Hawks did not like the threatening undertone of his words. He didn't like it at all. "No, sir. Just taken by surprise." That was true, but still, it felt like a lie. Gang Orca sighed. "We'll be over in twenty, tops."

[And that's part one! Hope you're ready, I'm not all that good with writing ships, but I'm getting better (I hope)]

[See you at part two!]

#boku no hero academia #tokoyami #bnha hawks #mafia au

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Helplessly Hoping (Favored Ones, Part 19.)

Series description: Many things were surely fucked up in the year 2038, but no-one ever told anyone how all of it went down. What happened before a group of people left for Seattle to handle personal matters? Why did one girl refuse to leave all of it be? And why there were so many dead in the end?

Quote for the chapter: “And you consider yourself the saviour of the human race?” - Shawn James

Part summary: Just as Ellie demanded, there was the whole meeting about the fucking Baldwin cottage situation happening. And the results of it were more or less concerning.

A/N: I’ve tried to use as many in-game/trailer/promotional dialogue as I could, altering it to suit the story, and I’ve spent at least an hour alone on those dialogues (finding them in the first place, then re-writing it, altering it, etc.). Hope you’ll enjoy. (OPEN TAGS FOR FUNNY HAHA JOKE)

Warnings: Tommy is the purest of heart and the dumbest of ass, Jesse’s ass, and angry fucking Maria. Mentions of Abby, WLFs, torture and gore, anxiety. PROBABLY A LOAD OF TYPOS Y’ALL.

Word count: 7.3K

Tagging:   @nemodoren @xxgoldenhour @missdictatorme​​ @peakymarvels​​ @davnwillcome​ @pickleriiick​ @jodiereedus22​ @gladiosamicitias​ @tamkashi​ @eternallyvenus​ @avengerssstuff​ @fangirl-inthe-us​ @avery-miller​ @mikah-writes​ @mad-hatter-98​ @sadiaafrin99​ @flavorishy​ @mr-robot-x​ @

Series master list: H E R E

Joel Miller’s playlist for the bonfire occasions: H E R E

Youtube playlists: JACKSON DAYS | SEATTLE DAYS

Early spring of 2038, two days before departure to Seattle:

Learning how to walk on your legs again was kinda funny, especially when you had Joel and Ellie around most of the time. As suspected, Joel calmed down about the unnecessary fight rather quickly, focusing on more oppressing matters at that moment, inviting Ellie to look after you when he was gone and the other way around. You were still noticeably climbing, but soon, you could walk to downtown on your own and you didn't even have to beg Joel to stop for a sec to catch your breath.

Ellie, no matter how hard she tried to ignore it, was still intrigued by the fact that you and Joel are now an official couple, but that didn't mean she had got the right to tell someone what to do. And she didn't even want to... It was just... Bothering her at some times. But as long as you were looking healthy and happy with the old man, she could still get over the whole situation somehow. The bad blood between you and Dina lasted for a few days until you played a card game for spending the evening with Ellie, which you one singlehandedly, yet you showed your character and told Dina she can keep your best friend for the night.

Life almost seemed to be going back to normal... Except it wasn't going anywhere. The only people who knew about it was you, Joel, Maria, and Tommy. You didn't want to tell Ellie and you hoped that your whole mental situation will be over before you and she have some girly plans. On many occasions, you've woken up in the middle of the night, straightaway paralyzed. A single muscle on your body couldn't move and all you saw was the woman looking down on you, asking the question over and over again - where is Joel Miller? Do you know him?

And anything you've tried wasn't helping you. Pills that should give you a sleepless night? You woke up in the middle of the night, panting and disoriented. Herbal teas? Made you sick. Joel hammering you to the bed before going to sleep? You've been staring at the ceiling as the man slept with his head on your naked chest. Joel and Ellie singing you a duet while you and Dina sat on the couch, watching these two arguing about every single detail? No, that didn't help either.

You didn't know if Abby wanted to trap you inside your head, but she accomplished the mission perfectly. You could work throughout the day, as long as the job didn't need a lot of walking around, you were still the same you. But as soon as no-one was looking at you, panic and anxiety got a hold on you. One time, you were even helping in the kitchen and you were joking around with the cooks - and suddenly, your gaze fell on one of the knives. Suddenly, you couldn't hear anything but cutting vegetables, and each of these sounds reminded you of the woman. The scar on your thigh started to burn as you suddenly sat in the corner, rocking yourself to keep calm.

There was still the old you inside of that head, but it wasn't quite the same person at all. You've been a former Firefly, yet you weren't on a single mission. You killed a human person before - just to protect the man you loved. What Abby has done to you was barbarism, brutality, and vileness. And that was bringing up the conflict inside of you around which you kinda could get your head wrapped around.

No-one knew what happened in the cottage yet, because you and Tommy wanted to think about the incident on your own first. And so you did - but it was tearing you up in halves. On one hand, you didn't care for that party of shitheads at all, you didn't want to see them again. You were just glad they had left, at least seemingly, and that they aren't a threat for you or Joel anymore.

On the other hand, you had the feeling that no matter who it was, they'll be back. They were searching after Joel and they didn't find the man the first time. Who was granting you that they won't come back for round two? This time killing you for good? Just slicing your throat for the fun of it? Another question was popping on your head rather frequently. Would Abby kill you straightaway if she'd figure out you're sleeping with Joel? Just for the fun of causing pain? Just to leave a message?

All you did was consider yourself lucky - if they wouldn't come when they did, you and Tommy would've laid there dead for hours, maybe days. But the luck was supposed to run out one day, right? It was just comforting you that it didn't run out on that March day. Normally, you weren't of these who would've sought revenge. You would just go on with your life, no matter how hard that would turn out to be. But Joel... When it came to Joel, the way you took the issues had changed. You wanted and needed to know he's safe. And until Abby and her friends were searching for the man, he wasn't safe.

I ain’t a good man at all, you know? You may be thinkin’ I am, but trust me, I ain’t. You could hear Joel repeating that sentence over and over again. I’ve done some terrible things and if you’d hear them, you’d most likely get up and never come back again. I was survivin’ for a damn long time. I’ve seen my friends end up dead. I’ve hurt many people. I’ve done stuff only the worst people do, you hear me? And Abby was just of the many people he’d done wrong or dirty in the past. The result of shit Joel had done.

But you hadn't got the feeling that Joel knew Abby personally. She was young, maybe at your age, just a few years older. Maybe exactly your age, it was hard to tell. But... If Abby had known Joel personally, she'd recognize Tommy. These men bared an undeniable likeness. So Joel wouldn't know who was she even if you'd ask him. The only thing you and Tommy took as a clue was the appliques on their jackets - WLF. Washington Liberation Front. They were soldiers just as you thought so. And came all the way from Seattle. To look for Joel. Which made you everything but calm. You asked Tommy about how Joel could've come to contact with such people... And Tommy didn't have a clue.

Which only put Joel's words in perspective. You didn't know a whole lot about your man and there wasn't any certainty that you'd ever get to know these things about him. What could Joel had possibly do tying up back to WLF? Smuggle guns, bomb, supplies? Kill someone for them..? Or one of them? Joel was a man of many faces and a harsh past, which you kinda knew ever since you got to know Ellie better. But it was things like these that put everything to context.

When you both agreed it's time to tell the rest, you've gathered only the closest people to discuss what to do now. Ellie and Dina's standpoints were set completely straight, they knew exactly what to do. Joel, Tommy, Jesse, and Maria were on the neutral to calm side of the spectrum. Diego was forbidden to come and you were somewhere between going after Abby and staying put. It was all to be settled down on that evening.

"So, we all know why were here." - You started, sitting at the head of the table next to Tommy. You two somehow got out of the situation WLFs put you in, but it was sure that you're not the same way you've been before - while you were only visibly limbing and some of the leg movements made you uneasy, you were fucked up mentally. Just as Tommy was perfectly healthy mentally, he told you he lived through worse things as a Firefly, his knee was poorly working as it should. Sure, he was walking, but there was no certainty that he can lead other patrols with his current physical state. - "And we decided that it will be better from my point of view because I heard a few things Tommy didn't." - You looked at the man, who nodded to assure you. - "Shall we?"

You've started since the very morning of the eighth of March - why did you even go to the patrol in the first place, how did the horde cleansing progress, up to the point where you first met her. When you mentioned her, tears appeared in your eyes again as you looked away from all the people to calm down. - "Give her a minute, it's just too much." - Tommy said to the rest as he walked to you with his cane in his hand, hugging your shoulder as he looked out of the window beside you. He shouldn't be walking at all, but because his knee wasn't drastically broken, he persuaded Bobby to give him just a brace and a cane. Either way, it was more than a month since the whole cottage thing, you both had got better. And sure, no-one was pressuring you to talk. You had the whole night if you needed to.

For you, it was a terrifying experience to go through all of this... Again. Mentally. It wasn't good for you to go back to the day in such details, but it needed to be done. Yet with every syllable, Abby's eyes got clearer and clearer inside of your head, watching you, judging you, laughing at you. The moment when she lifted you off the ground like a piece of shit, it was all there suddenly. Your throat clenched for a second while you re-lived through the memory, making your gasp for air and gently smooth the veins there. Tommy smoothed your shoulder carefully, looking at the profile of your face.

"Feelin' good now, kiddo?" - Tommy asked when you blinked twice to get yourself out of the moment. With a long sigh, you nodded and walked back to the table to continue with the story.

"There was a blizzard out there, you could barely see three feet in front of you. So the woman, named Abby, offered us to show us the way to a nearby cabin where she and her friends were taking refuge at the time. Naturally, we agreed to this offer because we would most likely get lost in the snow and freeze to death somewhere. Abby's friends saved us from a small portion of the horse, and they took us inside." -  You looked directly at Joel for a minute, trying to find comfort inside his face, finding concern only. That wasn't a good sign. - "When I stepped inside, I immediately noticed that there's something wrong with the people. I've seen a lot of groups passing through Jackson to get some sleep, gather supplies, food, water... But these didn't look anything like it. The clothes, moves, each of them looked strong. There was this lady who approached me and asked me if I'm feeling okay. To which I replied, that I am feeling alright.

I tried to signal Tommy that I don't feel safe inside that house, but he was talking to this Hispanic man, I didn't quite catch his name. So I played along and followed Abby deeper into the house. There, I met... Oscar? Omar? Oliver...? Owen. This man was Owen. And he was furious and they started to argue. For a reason, everyone started to gather in the room to look at us, and I could tell straight away that something was going downhill. Tommy was chatting with them and suddenly, Abby turned to me and asked me this question. I can hear the voice asking it every fucking night, again, again, and again. It haunts me." - A shaky breath left your lips as you jolted in discomfort. Tommy already knew what was coming, so he just stared at his hands entwined on the table.

"Do you know a man named Joel Miller by any chance?" - You repeated, hearing Abby asking you the question, staring down on you. You've been feeling everything you felt when Abby was just one foot away from you. The nerves, dry mouth, and the desperate need to keep yourself under control. And this time, it even felt harder than before, because you knew what comes next.

"To which I replied that I don't know any man by that name. But I fucked up, it is how it is. And I swear to you that this... Woman... Put her arm around my neck, picked me off the ground, and choked me. And all she said was 'Hey, we don’t wanna kill you. But we will.' And she tried to do just that. Before you guys came in." - A shiver ran down your spine as the picture of the woman kneeling beside you popped up inside your head. Owen holding the chair as Abby had beaten you up, helping her with the nails. Your hands were looking disgusting. Sure, it was way better and most of the nails started to grow back, but the ones on your pinkies and ring finger were gone.  

"What are we waiting for?" - Ellie asked suddenly, having every stare turned at her and Dina. She was visibly shaken - not only did they fucked you up like two dogs, but they were after Joel as well. - "Washington Liberation Front. We know where that is, don't we?" - The girl asked fiercely, but Maria pointed her palm at the girl, stopping her from hyping a super-dangerous plan which would only get everyone killed.

"Joel, when did you work for the WLF?" - Maria furrowed, looking at her brother-in-law. - "I thought you were smuggling for the Fireflies and other people back in Boston, but you never mentioned running the business in Seattle... Or in this area generally." - The woman asked silently, and each of you looked at Joel. But the man was out of his mind as well - it was his fault, just as he thought so. The past always found its way to him, didn't it?

"I've never worked in Seattle. I don't know any WLFs, never met 'em." - Joel answered shortly, looking down on his palms

"It doesn't matter. I don't care who the fuckers are, what did they want of what they need from the old man here. They've been trying to get one of us, what if they show up again?" - Ellie jumped straight to the chase again, this time standing up. - "They most likely know where we live, it doesn't take a genius to figure out the patrol trails, and they've been here once, what thing on Earth is holding them from getting into the area again? Huh? And what if they kill us all? What if they bring more people back? Huh?" - She looked at everyone with a hint of disgust in her face. This time, Tommy was the one to take a calm approach.

"Kiddo, sit down, will ya? We have no idea what we're walkin' into. You don't know anythin' about them. We don't know how large that group is, how armed they are," - "What are you doing?" - Ellie snapped back. The girl was walking on mighty thin ice, as Joel would say, but you got what she's after. These people were nothing but a threat to Jackson - and more importantly to Joel. You couldn't simply leave that be, hoping they won't come back. But you didn't say anything out loud, you just sat there and looked into the table desk, minding your own business.

"I don't care. Joel told me that this isn't my decision to make. Guess what, Tommy. It is from now on. These people tried to harm my family. I think you got the best idea about what kind of people they are. And I'm going no matter how you decide. You can't stop this. You can't stop me." - The girl walked out of the room, leaving you all there. Dina looked at Maria, who was already scheming a plan.

"This is suicide. No-one ain't is going after them. I don't care, I... I will put my men around her house to keep an eye on her..." - Maria was whispering frantically, trying to figure out what to do to keep the girl down. Joel exhaled loudly and took one look at you, closing his eyes in pain. He knew that empty look you were giving the piece of furniture. Whenever Ellie was about to take off, you will follow her for a few various reasons - you didn't want to get herself killed. And you didn't want to see Joel get hurt. And deep down inside, there was another reason which was the most understandable - you wanted to hurt back the people who hurt you. It could be barely seen that you're trembling, thinking about what you'll do. The world seemed to be so empty suddenly.

There was no other choice - you were going to Seattle.

"If she decides to go, Maria, no patrols are going to stop Ellie. The question is who will come with her." - Jesse told everyone quietly. With that, Joel had the last spark of home inside of him - maybe you won't be so stupid to agree with Ellie's short-fire plan. Yet when you closed your eyes, having a small wrinkle on your forehead, he knew that you're not the case.

Shortly after, everyone got home. And it felt off-putting to watch Joel's house, knowing you'll leave as soon as Ellie decides to go. You and Dina agreed about exchanging the intel the other day, once she and Ellie come up with some plan.

The house was looking way better than ever before. Up to that point, you never realized it has a perfect location in a good neighborhood. Especially, when Joel didn't have many neighbors. All you could see was the best ways to sneak to his door, and when you left that out, you only knew the inside of the house. And as the spring was slowly coming back, the flowers, bushes, and trees started to finally blossom after the long winter. Birds were singing the whole time you were walking to the porch, the warm wing was smoothing your skin and messing with your hair. How comes that you've never noticed the golden film of the sunlight? Or the innocent white of the evening clouds?

"You 'kay back there?" - Joel asked you from opening the door. You were leaning into the railing, watching the surroundings. After a small while of watching the man, you gave him a vulnerable smile and nodded. For a minute, Joel still stood there and waited for you to come in, but you didn't move an inch. You turned your head back to look at the neighborhood and the mountains in the landscape. That was when he walked next to you, leaning into the wood as well. - "What's goin' inside that head of yours, huh?" - He whispered, slowly pulling closer until your shoulders bumped into each other.

"Never noticed how beautiful Jackson can be - until now, cowboy." - An honest whisper left your lips. Joel didn't like your expression at all - there was this sadness and melancholy inside of it and Joel would bet everything that he knew exactly what was going on inside your head.

"Girl, if you're thinkin' about the Abby kiddo, stop it. For both my and yours sake. This kind of thoughts won't bring any good, you hear me?" - The man whispered and lowered his head enough to kiss the top of your shoulder. - "What happens at Baldwin, that stays at Baldwin. I don't want you to see you get near the stables, weaponry, you won't be sneakin' out at midnight, we clear?" - Joel asked, having you snickering at his statement and the whole topic. You knew you're about to pull that stunt. And he knew it as well. But it felt cute that he's putting so much care into this whole thing.

"I told you that I'm not thinking about the Baldwin cottage thing. I'm not. I'm just looking at nature, taking in the sights, you know?" - You smiled, trying to look at least a bit happy for Joel. The man looked into your eyes for a moment with an unnatural expression. But in the end, he nodded and looked away from you. Both of you knew that you're lying, but neither of you wanted to talk about the lie more closely. - "I was thinking about playing some gee-tar. What about you bringing me that instrument and making me a cup of coffee before we go to sleep, Joel?" - You asked after a moment, having the man realizing how vulnerable you were at the moment. He could just call you out about the bullshit. Yet he didn't. Joel just smoothed your back with his palm, pulling you a bit closer.

"You don't drink coffee. Didn't the coma messed with your brain, baby girl?" - The man asked but slowly walked to the door. You just sighed, reminding him of sugar. He brought everything anyway - both the guitars, both the mugs with the coffee and some fruits you could both snack on. The first songs you've played were shaky and off the rhythm, your voice wasn't the best either, which had you cringe a lot.

The man was calming you down, reminding you to have patience and not to jump into things too quickly. The best moment of the night was when you played A-Ha together, Joel playing the instrument while you curled up in the rocking chair, which he brought for you from the cabin in the woods, and sang. When the conversation you two had slowly faded away, you caught yourself falling asleep as Joel was playing with his guitar, playing parts of various songs you didn't even know. He had woken you up an hour or so after, making sure you won't be too bitten by mosquitos.

The following day, the signal you were waiting for came - Dina ran to you while you were helping in the kitchen and the diner. She told you, very hastily, that you will take off the following day, two hours after midnight, and that you'll have a meeting point at the south breach. Jesse, who was authorized to spy on both you and Dina, along with Ellie and Joel, had to see it because of course, he had. It was quite logical when you had a shift in the kitchen at the same time.

"What are you two whispering about, birdies?" - The boy leaned between your heads. If you had to be honest, he was looking good with the apron and a crooked smile on his lips as he held the bowl with the yeast dough. After a smile while of looking at him, you gave him your typical chuckle, getting back to the vegetables in front of you.

"About your ass." - You answered innocently. At that, Dina joined you, leaned her ass into the counted next to your workplace. Her eyes looked at her ex-boyfriend's ass shamelessly. After a moment, her agreeing hum sounded next to your ear as both you and Jesse snickered. - "I mean, Y/N's not wrong. Maybe you'll finally have your luck with Bobby now you're single?" - Dina asked, offering you a hand to do a high five. The boy looked at you with an offense in his grinning face, running his tongue along the line of his teeth.

"All I said is that the lady has a nice bottom. It was at the Christmas party, there was a lot of eggnogs and I was drunk. Don't ever bring that up again. Deal?" - Jesse pointed the wooden spoon at the two of you. Dina and you behaved childishly quite often, but it was never too inappropriate or annoying. You know where to put the stop to the whole playing-around thing.

"I certainly can't promise that, Jesse." - "Me neither" - You both shook your heads and you started to cut the tomatoes again. You already cleaned and cut more than one big bag of them and there was still a lot remaining. And trust me, you were a lot in the kitchen since you got back from the Baldwin place. It was occurring because of two main reasons - Maria wanted to have you under control and you still weren't sure about somehow getting through the whole patrol process.

"I would miss this... If you'd were going to Seattle." - Jesse whispered, looking into the dough in front of him. Dina flashed her eyes at you and licked her lips swiftly. Jesse had to know that you were up to something and he even had to know what was that something. - "Thank God you're not that dumb." - Jesse gave you a shining smile over the shoulder, leaning back to the dough.

"Yeah, exactly. Thank God we aren't." - You repeated and watched Dina leaving as she pointed two fingers up to signal you the time you, her, and Ellie will meet up. Neither of you planned on sleeping that night - you decided to sneak out, walk at least five miles from Jackson, find a cover and sleep there. So it was special for you when you and Joel were getting into bed. Neither of you felt like sex, so you just told each other about your days as you laid down, preparing for some sleep. Just like the first time, he'll wake up and he'll be alone. That was almost poetic.

It was a repeating cycle - but this time, Joel won't find you wandering around the city. Sure, the man got a little suspicious when you didn't want to cuddle closer and you just laid there facing each other. While the man was already drifting off, or so you suspected, you were just laying there and memorized every inch of his face. The gray, maybe-too-long but still maintained haircut and trimmed beard, a bit crooked nose with a small scar in the middle, deep wrinkles on his forehead and two leading down from his cheeks - these were visible especially when he spoke or smiled at you. Your hand was itching to feel the nicely-shaped lips, slowly caressing away down to his throat to feel the rough skin with fading suntan. But you just laid there with tears in your eyes, fighting an urge to cry.

He was beautiful. He was. And you were leaving him just to make sure he was safe. What a fucking irony.

To your surprise, you had fallen asleep. When you woke up, you've just opened up your eyes and looked around, Joel wasn't in the bed. First, you thought you're late and that he maybe knew what you were planning on doing, but you exhaled slowly when you heard the water in the bathtub moving around. He was probably taking one of his late-night baths. He had tendencies to do that when he was sleeping poorly or when he had woken up in the middle of the night. But it urged you to act quickly.

You pulled a backpack from under the bed, checking that there are your gun and the knife. Quickly, you threw some sweatshirt and a few t-shirts to change on your journey, put some warm clothes on and sneaked downstairs to put the boots on. You were moving around swiftly and quietly to make sure Joel won't be suspicious - he had to hear you walking around the place, but there wasn't a single word coming from the bathroom, so you supposed you're safe.

Slowly, you took in a long breath as you palmed the doorknob, closing your eyes. - "Lord, please grant me your mercy and take care of Joel when I'm gone. And make sure hell forgive me over the time, deal?" - You prayed. You never went to the church and you, neither Fireflies nor your parents weren't religious people. You didn't know how prayers worked, what to say, or how to concept it. But it felt good to say something to the entity up there. And if there wasn't anything, you just felt good about saying it out loud.

Shit almost hit your pants when the dining room lit up suddenly and Joel leaned his shoulder to the doorframe. He didn't even have to say a word and you already knew he's pissed. He was clothed, just after a bath and his furrow, dear Lord, that was some nightmare fuel.

"You goin' somewhere?" - The man asked quietly, crossing his forearms on his chest. Slowly, your hand let the doorknob go. A quick cuss left your lips when you smoothed your wet hands on your thighs, taking in a deep breath. Jesus, you never felt so bad. You were busted, like five-year-old stealing candy from the cookie box. - "Joel..." - You put one of your palms up, trying to calm him down before he'd let the thunder fell on you.

"I asked you 'bout lettin' the whole Baldwin thing go and you looked me in my damned eyes and said 'yea'. Did you think that you're so unobtrusive, actin' like you hadn't an idea that I know what's up? You think you're so clever, huh? Jesse told me 'bout the small date you and Dina had in the kitchen." - Joel walked to you slowly and you could tell that you're just fucked up. There was no other way to put it. Joel busted your ass and probably, he told Maria, so you weren't going anywhere.

"Don't try to stop me, Joel. If you stop me now, I'll just sneak out later. All it would do would be setting Dina and Ellie alone, and if there'd be just the two of them..." - You started to talk frantically, but Joel's palms on your shoulders made you stop. He was looking you in the face with a slight furrow. When you wanted to wiggle out, his palm caught your cheek and the man made you look up at him.

"I am not stoppin' you. I told you, baby girl, that if you'd like to go after 'em, we will go after 'em together. I am disappointed and we'll need to talk about that later, but I won't be stoppin' you, nor Dina, nor Ellie. I just don't wanna lose you, 'kay?" - The man breathed out as the oxygen in his throat hitched. You put both your palms on his chest, looking him in the face. Your tongue tried to tell all the words you wanted to tell him, all the syllables you had inside your head, but nothing came out of your mouth.

Was there any sense in trying to talk Joel down from coming with you? The man had his head and he was stubborn, so you wouldn't stop him for shit. This was dangerous for him. Joel wasn't the youngest, his reflexes weren't that good either, and... Anything could go wrong. He could die. He could die for real. Slowly, you licked your lips, hugging the man. Sure, it will weird Ellie out to have Joel coming with you on another adventure. But... More eyes see more, more brains know more and more hands could do more, right? Ellie will find her way around it, you were sure of that.

"Took my revolver and the ammo I've had hidden for it with me. You're taking your bow and quiver, right?" - He whispered to your ear. Oh. OH. The bow and arrows. You would've forgotten it at home if Joel didn't bring it up. Because of the pressure around.

With a smile, you walked to the cabinet you kept your toys in, taking them out. - "You're secretly hoarding ammo without telling Maria about it? Where are the days when your ass didn't take any ammo with it on patrols?" - A question rang throughout the silent house, having Joel chuckle in response. - "You're the most paranoid person I know, Miller. But I love for that, God knows I do." - You walked back, putting the weapon on the table as you wrapped your hands your the nape of his neck. - "I love..." - Joel answered, but he was interrupted by the noises coming from the outside.

The subtle romantic moment was ruined by something going on on the street. Quickly, you walked to the window to look out of it - and your eyes widened horrifiedly when you saw Maria stomping right to your door, leading Dina and Ellie behind her. Fuck, she must've caught them earlier. And she looked so pissed that you felt your stomach tighten.

"Did Jesse told Maria about this?" - You asked Joel, quickly hiding your and his backpack, putting the arrows and the bow down from the table. It was weird enough to find you both dressed up for a stroll at two a.m., but when Ellie and Dina were busted already, you were busted too.

"No, the boy didn't tell her. He just wanted me to know 'cause he was worried you're gonna get yourself killed, that's what he told me." - Joel shook his head, already watching his sister-in-law stomping on the porch, knocking on the door. Well... Maria didn't knock. She almost broke the door in halves.

For a moment, Joel looked at you to see if you're calm enough and then, he finally opened up, a crooked smile playing on his lips. Ellie's eyes shot wide open when she saw him all ready as well, but there wasn't space for her to speak, so she just sent you a nod. And Dina? She looked the worst, like a small kid who waited for a slap. - "Hey. Wouldn't expect you here so late, Maria, howdy," - Your man started charmingly, bit the blonde woman just pushed him out of the doorframe, walking straight to the dining table.

"What happened?" - You whispered to Ellie. Before the girl answered, she licked her lips and shook her head, giving you a clear idea. She didn't know. But before she opened up her mouth, Maria pointed her finger into the wooden desk of the table.

"Sit down, all four of you. And don't test my patience." - She ordered quietly, but her voice hinted on how infuriated she was. The situation was wickedly hilarious - Joel, a man in his early fifties, you, and two girls around their twenties were getting bitched down like a band of kindergartners. And by the looks of it, Maria wasn't slowing down.

"Maria, I've headed to Seattle, I wish I could let it all go, but I can't. I have to bring these people to justice." - She started to read from a piece of paper in her palm, looking at you and Ellie specifically. - "Ellie was right. I can't let them get away with the stuff they've done to the poor girl and with the stuff they planned on doing. I just can't. What if they'd come back, attacking at us in full force? What's holding them back?" - She read the question mockingly, but let you all know she doesn't want to get an answer on that one. She licked her lips to progress with the letter.

"I know that at least one of the three girls will come after me. Assign patrols checking on their houses in the night, make them busy, take their guns, lock the guns and horses up, maybe lock all of them up?" - Maria was getting more and more infuriated just by reading the text. So Jesse didn't tell on you. Tommy had set to Seattle on his own, holy motherfucking love of Jesus Christ. That was just a dumb idea which sure will get him killed.

"Buy me some time so I can end this on my own terms. Love you always, Tommy." - She finished and leaned her palms into the table. - "Do you realize what this letter means? Any of you? He's gonna get himself killed." - Maria bent the paper in halves, taking in a long breath.

Ellie rolled her eyes and you could see her inflating her cheeks with anger. Each of you was in a different stage of anger at that moment. And Ellie's was most probably the most hot-headed and childish, but she spoke first nonetheless. - "I told you that you can stop this, Maria. We need to finish this. He should've taken us with him. You should've given us a group to go after those fuckers right away!" - The girl whispered recklessly, looking into the desk with tongue running over her front teeth. The blonde woman sighed loudly, rolling her eyes.

At that, Maria laughed cold-heartedly, looking at the girl with anger burning inside her eyes. Whatever was going on inside Maria's head, it was a real fight. Dina turned her head at you when you breathed out, shook your head, and lowered it down. This was your fault. Your fucking fault. Tommy had the feeling that he has to do it for you. The man could barely work and his arm still wasn't good either. This mission wasn't only a suicidal one, it was pure madness. - "Wish I could." - The old woman looked Ellie in the eyes rather daringly, as if she was daring the girl to do something.

"So, now what, Maria? You wanna lock us up inside our houses? Take away our guns? Will you make us... Busy?" - Ellie opposed and finally looked at Maria. This situation was extremely uncomfortable for everyone - while Ellie had full-on one on one argument with Maria, while the three of you, you, Dina and Joel, sat there in dead silence, each of you lost in your thoughts. But you still listened to the topic of the conversation, in case of Maria would try directly verbal-assaulting anyone else. Sure, she was just mad, but if this fight would go off the rails... Some rather nasty things could've been said. Some of which couldn't be taken back.

"Well, when you're asking me so nicely, I'd prefer that you'd both stay," - Maria sighed and looked at you and Ellie sitting next to each other. You two were definitely where this suicidal idea to go to Seattle came from, she was sure of that. You most likely wanted to protect Joel, which as cavalierish as it was crazy, and Ellie wanted to revenge you. At that, Ellie spangled on her feet, having an offended expression in her face. When she pointed her finger at maria, the woman lowered her head. - "That's not gonna fucking happen," - " I'd prefer that you'd both stay, but I know you better." - With that, Ellie shut up in surprise as Maria walked to the other half of the table, now looking at Joel and Dina.

"Are you going with them?" - She rose her eyebrows. The man didn't answer, he just nodded, and Dina let out an offended 'yeah' as if it wasn't obvious.

"What did you planned on doing? Just sneaking outta here? On foot? Huh?" - Maria made herself snicker ironically after hearing another yeah, this time from Ellie. You, you were impossible. Sneaking on foot out of Jackson and traveling to Seattle? In the cold and stormy spring that was coming? Sometimes, you were dumber than Maria thought. Everyone was silent as you watched Maria looking out of the window into the night neighborhood, taking in another deep breath. When she was sure she won't kill any of you on the spot, she turned back to the table, leaning into it and staring into everyone's eyes.

"I told the stable to let you out with Sadie and Shimmer. Grab some ammo too. And some food and sleeping bags." - At that, each of you shut up. And Maria started tearing up, so she closed her eyes for a moment to calm down.

"Thank you, Maria." - Dina whispered with true respect in her voice, watching the lady calming down by walking around Joel's dining room. But then, she looked at you and Ellie with a saddened smile. - "Just, uh, do me a favor and bring my dumbass husband home in one piece, please. And... When you come back from there, we won't be ever talking about it again. No Abby, no WLFs, no golf clubs, no cottage in the mountains. We'll pretend that it never had happened." - Maria sighed. Ellie started nodding as the first one as she went to hug Maria tightly to calm the woman down. Then you went to share the hug with them, having Dina joining in as the last one. Joel sat there and watched you with a sad smile.

"All right then." - Maria stepped aside, looking at the three of you. You were always together when you did something good, something bad or something crazy. And this, to Maria's surprise, checked every box. - "Get going, you're... The way to Seattle is long, even on horseback and you need as much daylight as you can get. And to your information, Jesse didn't tell me you're planning on leaving. It was Diego who heard it." - And with that, Maria walked out of the house with the letter in her hand, shaking hands and teary eyes.

You stood there for a little longer, not knowing how to react. And as usual, Ellie was first to break the awkward silence. - "Holy motherfucking shit. I can't believe it worked out." - She sighed and sat down for a little longer as you and Joel get to preparing your gear again. Dina scoffed ironically, leaning into the back of the chair.

"Not to be the one who's breaking it to you, but everything had fucked up as much as it could and Tommy with his fucked up leg and arm is currently MIA." - Well, that was one way to look at the situation as well.

"Don't worry 'bout him for now. He's a capable guy, I saw a lot of things he has done while he was a Firefly. Trust me, if someone should be worried, it's the fuckers in Seattle." - Joel answered at that statement and zipped his jacket all the way under his chin, controlling the stuff he picked up once again. Your backpacks were full of personal stuff, but once you'd get to the horses, you'll do some space management and it'll be good. - "Since when you're going, old-timer? I don't see this happening." - Ellie licked her lips, watching Joel's face with one of her stubborn gazes.

"Then open up your eyes, kiddo. If she's comin', I'm comin'." - The man looked at you with a smile and you smiled back. Both the girls were uncomfortable for a while, watching the two of you, but after a small while, Ellie nodded and clapped. - "'kay. Fine. Alrite. Maria's right. The earlier we go, the further we get, the sooner we can catch some sleep."

#maria miller #maria miller the last of us #maria is a fucking savage #will kick ur ass 11/10 times #Ellie Williams #ellie the last of us #dina the last of us #dina something something #dina x ellie #ellie x dina #joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller x y/n #joel miller the last of us #the last of us part 2 #the last of us imagine #jesse the last of us #the last of us part two #tommy the last of us #tommy miller the last of us #tommy miller #tommy: pure of heart and dumb of ass #we love one (1) fun-bun man #knife daughter and post apocalyptic dad are back #BRICKMASTER64

[flutteringphalanges]

Summary:  “Am I in Hell?” Agatha’s voice was hoarse, a hint of fear in her tone. “That depends on your definition,” Dracula answered. “Perhaps.” His fingers felt cool against her burning skin, the fever raging through her body. “If you’re going to kill me, then do it,” she mumbled. The count chuckled, gazing into her eyes. “On the contrary,” he smirked. “I’m going to save you.”

((In which Dracula cares for a gravely ill Agatha))

Characters: Agatha Van Helsing/Dracula

Rating: M

Read on FFN and AO3

A/N: A little shorter than usual. I think I have a stomach bug, but I wanted to give you guys something! Thank you for all of your support! Feedback is greatly loved and appreciated! If you ever want an explanation about something after you read a chapter, my author’s notes at the end in my AO3 and FFN docs tend to have them! Hope you enjoy! -Jen

                                                Chapter Eight

Agatha was bitten by a snake once. Searching for eggs in the chicken coop, no older than six. When she slid her hand under her favorite hen, something clamped down. Sharp, needle like teeth burying themselves into her skin. It burned. Ached. And she screamed so loud one might even go as far to claim the entire town heard.

But in reality, it had mostly startled her. The bite nonvenomous. A black snake. The young girl watched as the tiny droplets of blood oozed from the bite marks. Such a curious sight to behold. A wound on flesh from mouth. As she watched it slither away, too quick for her father to catch, she couldn't help but wonder if it'd remember her taste. Liked the scent of her blood. Agatha, of course, would never know.

Agatha's eyes widened in shock as she felt Dracula's fangs dig into the sensitive flesh of her neck. Fueled off an adrenaline rush, she kicked herself back, slamming against the headboard as the vampire eyed her in a mixed expression of confusion and lust. Blood glistened off of his teeth. Coated his lips. Her blood. He'd bitten her. The bastard had actually bitten her!

"Agatha?" The Count began before she rammed her feet against his chest. It did nothing. "You seem upset."

"Upset?!" She panted holding a hand to her throat. "You BIT me!"

Dracula was silent for a minute, watching the fuming nun with keen interest. He then sat back almost as if nothing troubling had occurred. This only seemed to fuel Agatha's rage further. Not only was he acting so passively about this, but his lack of acknowledging the situation entirely was frustrating. Furiously so.

"If you are concerned about turning, Agatha, I can assure you that isn't going to happen." He spoke as if those words meant something. "If I wanted to change you, you'd have been dead long ago."

Her fingers ran down the indents in her neck. The pain had faded away leaving a cool, almost numbing feeling. It was almost...pleasant. Despite this, she frowned. Angry at him. And maybe, maybe just a little bit disappointed she made him stop. But she didn't want him to know this. Why had he done it? What were his intentions? She remembered Jonathan Harker. His former "brides" in their boxes below. Why hadn't he killed her too?

"Are you in pain?" And there was genuine concern in his tone.

"No…" What was that about not letting him know? "No, it...it doesn't hurt. Not anymore." Agatha looked at him, her eyes no longer holding malice. Only interest. Needing. "Why?"

"Because I didn't want it to." Dracula answered simply, reaching for the hand that covered the mark. "My plan isn't to make you suffer, Agatha." There was a quick flicker of a smirk on his face. "Most of the time."

Before she could react further, he leaned forward and licked the spot where his fangs had struck. Smooth, with purpose, a shiver ran down Agatha's spine as he drew back. She began to feel that familiar ache stemming from her core. Heat rising in her like the night fevers she vaguely remembered upon her arrival to the castle those many weeks ago. Ignoring them, she quickly slid out of the bed.

"I should wash up." Agatha told him quietly, knowing that if she didn't, she'd regret it later.

There was a bassin of cool water along with a cloth in the bathroom. Agatha didn't bother to warm it over the fire as she began to scrap the gore from her body. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, the icy liquid dripping against her skin. But it was something. Something other than the almost feral emotions she felt back in her bedroom. She couldn't help but wonder if he was still in there. Waiting for her. Or perhaps watching her from the shadows. Was it so wrong to think that she wouldn't much mind if he was?

The former nun gazed down at the murky liquid. With the lack of mirrors in the castle-courtesy of Dracula, it was hard to capture sight of her reflection. Maybe if she asked he'd give her one. It'd be the least he could do. Exhaling heavily, she dropped the soiled rag into the bucket and ran her fingers through her hair.

As she took a few steps outside of the room, she was surprised to find a nightgown nicely folded at her feet. Peering around, Agatha picked it up somewhat unsure. Was the Count being genuinely caring at this moment or did he have an ulterior motive? Slipping it on, she made her way back to the bedroom. Fresh sheets. No sign of the slime or mess from their actions. It was almost irritating how he fluctuated with generosity.

"You sure do think about Abraham Van Helsing don't you?"

Agatha stiffened at the name as she turned to see Dracula standing, now dressed, in the doorway. He was eyeing her in slight amusement as he stepped inside, his gaze not breaking from hers as he moved in close.

"The first time I tasted you, I can't say I really gave your backstory as much thought as I did." He smiled, but the former nun didn't return the favor. "When you cut your finger?" Dangerous territory. "He was rather hard on you."

"Don't bring him up." Her voice was cold.

"I'm truly not trying to start something. But after what we just did. That tiny mouthful of blood. I finally see where it comes from. What makes you you." And he was grinning. Smiling as if he just learned the best news in the world. "I think I'm finally beginning to figure you out, Agatha Van Helsing."

Confusion. Almost hurt. Anger. After what they did. What he did. What she gave him. Together. Now such an intimate moment was turning into this vampire's delight of a discovery?! Christ, she'd begun to trust him. Like an imbecile. Gave way into her emotions. A fool. An absolute fool.

"So this was all it ever was to you?" She asked in a low voice. "A game?" Hadn't it always? "Nothing more than a chess board where we knock each other's pieces off?"

His laughing began to fade. "I certainly didn't imply any of that." Dracula's voice was cool. "I was merely bringing up the fact that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree." Wrong response. Terrible answer. "I knew Abraham Van Helsing, and though he raised you to do what he couldn't, something in you changed." When he reached towards her, she recoiled instantly. "Agatha Van Helsing, I think you might have feelings for me." And once more the smile reappeared. "In a good way."

"Fuck you."

A strong word. A hateful sentence. After they literally had sex-or nearly until he bit her, things were fine. They were co-existing and she'd begun to accept that. Accept everything. But now suddenly, out of the blue he brought up her grandfather. The man who hounded her for years to be the vampire hunter that he was. A task she'd failed. That she'd pushed aside. And he had the audacity to remind her of it. And play with her emotions. It was true. It had always been true. Count Dracula was nothing more than a monster.

"Burn in Hell." The bite mark began to sting on her neck as she said it. "You should've let the fever kill me when you had the chance."

"Agatha…" But she ignored him. The sound of her name on his tongue bitter. "Agatha, don't be foolish."

She was storming out of the room with purpose, blocking out the sound of his voice. Why was she so upset? Christ, she was acting like a little school girl. Heart broken. Betrayed. Abraham was right. He was always right. The bruises from training. The endless nights of identifying what was needed to ward off vampires. Her childhood taken from her. All of these years and she'd thrown them away by sleeping with a vampire. Not once. Twice. Letting him devour any integrity she had built up as a nun.

"It's raining," Dracula called after her. "I am quite sure you don't wish to be struck by lightning." When she still didn't reply, he huffed. "I apologize for ruining the mood. Again. But how about we discuss things without you being swept away by a flash flood?"

"Oh, I'm not going out of the castle." She snapped back. "I'm going to go sit on the balcony. The sun will be rising soon and seeing as you will burn into a crisp, I can be alone." At least, she certainly hoped it'd stop raining by then and the clouds would dissipate. "And then I'm leaving for good." Before killing him first.

"You keep saying that and it has yet to happen," he countered. There was a pause before he quickly added. "If you need anything, I'll be in my study for a few hours before the morning." She shouldn't have given him the last word. Wasn't that how fights worked? "Agatha?"

But she had already thrust the heavy doors to the balcony open. Almost instantly a heavy spray of water hit her directly in the face. She coughed, the liquid burning her nose and throat from swallowing it wrong. With a grunt, she slammed them behind her and took a seat on the ground. Agatha pulled her knees up to her chest, just barely covered by the outcrop of the roof above.

How in a matter of minutes had passion turned to fury? Agatha inhaled and watched the water run through the crevices of the stone. She'd failed her mission. Time after time again. Failed her grandfather. The late nuns of St. Mary's Convent. Jonathan Harker. And Mina. Dear, sweet Mina who had relied on her all along. Glancing towards the sky, she made a promise to herself. It was time to push it aside. Everything aside. And do what she was bred from a young age to do. Kill Count Dracula.

Thunder rolled overhead and the vampire slayer eyed her healed hand, studying her now functioning knuckles. She thought about the stake she had handled just hours earlier sitting down the steps on the table below. Agatha smiled, her brain and her heart competing on what was the truly right decision. In her head Abraham Van Helsing's dying words repeated in her mind.

"...Finish what I couldn't…"

#Dracula #Dragatha #Dracula 2020 #Agatha Van Helsing #Dracula x Agatha #Bad Moon Rising

[katehuntington]

Title: Changes - part one (prologue) Word count: ±1750 words Summary “Changes”: Huntress Zoë Sullivan (OFC) crosses paths and swords with the Winchesters, when the brothers stumble on a case that she’s already working. When complications arise, they are forced to work as a team. Summary part one: Disaster hits the Sullivans, devastating loss ripping the seemingly perfect family apart. The oldest daughter, Abigail, fights to survive the demon attack, all while trying to save her possessed sister.  Episode warnings: Dark! NSFW, 18+ only! Angst, gore, violence, character death. Description of blood, injury and medical procedures. Demon possession, supernatural creatures/entities. Smut, swearing, alcohol use/addiction. Kidnapping, mentions of torture and murder, illegal/criminal practices. Mentions of nightmares and flashbacks.  Music: Child In Time - Deep Purple  Author’s note: The maiden voyage of Supernatural: The Sullivan Series, and I couldn’t be more excited to share it with you. There are quite a few people I want to thank. @coffee-obsessed-writer, @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish, @winchest09, thank you for helping me with this story and for taking it to a higher level. Everyone who encouraged me to go for it, you are awesome!

Supernatural: the Sullivan Series Masterlist 01x01 “Changes” Masterlist

     Los Angeles, California      July 21st, 2001

     Screams. Horrific, tormenting screams. The kind that causes blood to run cold and hair on the back of the neck to stand up. Desperate cries for help, coming from a broken soul, barely a woman, but certainly not a child anymore, especially not after today. But it isn’t just the pained voice that echoes through the mansion in Brentwood, on the west side of the City of Angels. There are no angels here. On the contrary: the sounds mixing with the anguished voice, is one that comes from the deepest foundations of Hell.       “Abi! Where are you?!”       The call-out is gut-wrenching, and Abigail Sullivan presses her mouth closed firmly, biting on her bottom lip in order not to answer her little sister. She has her back against the French doors between the dining room and the kitchen, a line of salt on the marble floor connecting the frames.      The voice doesn’t sound like Zoë’s. She’s speaking in tongues, pure evil tainting her speech. The battle inside her own body is one she’s destined to lose, but man, she is putting up one hell of a fight. Demon possession is usually pretty straight forward. Black smoke, black eyes, and the host is all but a marionette. It’s rare that someone is able to break through the solid concrete walls that captivate them, but apparently Zoë is giving the bastard some serious competition. Abigail sniffles. That’s my girl.

     Trying to calm herself, the older sister leans her head back against the polished wood, listening to the raging demon. She has to fix this. She has to find a way to expel that thing. This family has lost enough.

     Determined, Abigail moves towards the kitchen cabinets, opening them and looking for anything that could be useful. She clears the storage area under the double sink and pulls up the lid over a secret compartment, exposing a 9mm, several knives, and jars that contain ingredients for basic spell work. Among the items is a flask of Holy water, which she shoves down the front pocket of her jeans. She doesn’t bother to take the handgun or the weapons; she would rather die than have to shoot her own flesh and blood. A bullet or a knife wouldn’t do a demon harm anyway, so instead, she takes a frying pan. It won’t kill anyone, but at least it will slow the son of a bitch down.

     “Oh, Abi…”      Abigail freezes. The trace of Zoë that was audible a minute ago is gone now. It’s the demon who is taunting her, its voice amused, almost singing.      “We used to play this game all the time when we were little, remember?” the dark voice muses.      “You are not my sister, you sick fucker!” she barks back, as she approaches the doors.      “Oh, c’mon. Don’t be cruel; humor me,” the demon tsks. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

     Abigail takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, listening to the sounds in the other room as she leans against the door again. Her heart is beating out of her chest, as if it seems to realize it might stop moments from now. The thing is waiting, and it will rip her apart once it gets the chance. She has to get to the office; it’s her only chance for survival. Dad’s journal and address book might be a way of sending out an S.O.S. signal. There’s a devil’s trap under the circular carpet at the entrance too. If she can capture the demon, they might live another day. Both her and Zo.      With her weapon in her left hand and Holy water in her right, the older Sullivan sister swallows thickly, fearing for her life. The brave young woman takes another second to collect herself. and prepare for what is on the other side. Senses heightened, she waits for the footsteps to pass.      3… 2… 1…

     With a fierce kick, Abigail slams the French door into the intruder’s face, giving herself a small window to make a break for the rotating stairway. With panicked breath, she conquers three risers with each stride, pulling herself up by the guard rail. She almost makes it to the second floor, before a force that defies physics pulls her from her feet and smashes her into the wall. Plaster crumbles on top of her when she hits the ground halfway down the staircase, a jolt of pain cutting through her hip when she lands on the edge of one of the steps.

     Biting down a cry, she pulls herself together while retrieving the Holy water from her pocket, frantically screwing off the cap. Just in time, because the demon that has nested in her little sister’s body, towers over her, a chilling laugh that is anything but human erupting from Zoë’s throat. Blood has smudged her summer dress, dark red sprayed across her chest and neck. The expression distorts the twenty-one year old’s gentle features beyond recognition and her eyes fade to black.      “Hello, sis,” the demon coos.      Abigail’s lip twitches angrily, opposite of the pain in her teary eyes. “Get out of her, you fucking bastard!” 

     She throws the contents of the silver flask into the demon’s face, exposed skin sizzling when it comes in contact with the fluid. It staggers back, hands going for its face as it screeches in agony. Abigail knows this might be the only opportunity she will get and doesn’t waste a second. As fast as her feet can carry her, she gets up, ignoring the ache in her side, and hastens up the stairs.        This time she does make it to the corridor, dashing towards the office at the far end. She is flanked by walls painted in crimson handprints, puddles of blood staining the polished wooden floors. As she passes the master bedroom, she doesn’t glance inside, not wanting to carve even deeper scars into her heart, but the image of the massacre pushes its way to the foreground anyway. She can’t afford to slow down, though, because she can feel the temperature of the warm Californian home drop at least twenty degrees in a matter of seconds. 

     With her fingers still clamped around the handle of the frying pan, she swings on pure gut, her hunter instincts - which she buried not so long ago - kicking in. The flat surface of the pan hits her demon-infested sister square across the jaw, breaking the skin, and for a moment Abigail feels guilty for hurting her sibling. Drastic measures; it’s all about survival now.      Not daring to look over her shoulder, Abigail rushes into her father’s office, able to tell by the sound of firm footsteps that she’s mere inches from getting tackled. The demon is right on her tail, but when the dark entity is about to cross the room, it runs into an invisible barrier. Confused and frustrated, the creature tries again, without result. Then it scoffs, the mimic so different from Zoë’s.      “Let me guess.” The demon tilts its head, staring down the other Sullivan sister. “There’s a trap underneath this ugly rug, isn’t there?”       “Good luck getting out of that one,” Abigail returns, a trace of victory pulling at the corner of her mouth.       “Oh, I don’t need to,” the demon chuckles, as it begins to stroll along the edge of the cage. “Seems like the only way out is through this door behind me.”      Trying to mask the shake in her limbs from anxiety, Abigail sits down in her dad’s leather office chair, rolling closer to the desk. “We’re on the second floor. I’ve done bigger drops.”      “I bet you did. You’re quite the hunter, aren’t ya? You’ve sent many of my kind back to the basement.” Bitter, the demon narrows its eyes, glaring at her.       “I’m one of the best,” Abigail counters, before she pulls out a drawer and takes out a black leather journal.      “Are you?” the evil creature questions. “Are you really going to leave poor little Zo all alone?”

     The older Sullivan sister tries to ignore the words, but she feels the sharp sting anyway. Focusing on the task at hand, she leafs through the notes in search of a number.      “She’s awake in here, y’know?”      Abigail stops.      “She’s crying hysterically, begging you not to abandon her,” the demon elaborates, clearly enjoying the sight of the hunter crumbling. “Begging me not to rip you to shreds and decorate the chandeliers with your intestines.”      “Shut the fuck up,” Zoë’s sister warns, snapping her fiery eyes at the creature.      But the demon doesn’t yield. It has both ladies right where it wants them.       “Let’s face facts here: you’re as trapped as I am. You’re not gonna leave your only family. And you don’t have what it takes to exorcise me. Not without killing her.”      “Maybe I don’t,” Abigail agrees, picking up the phone on the desk. “But I can call the cavalry.”

     Her finger has stopped at two initials, scribbled down on one of the first pages by her Dad. He never wrote down hunters’ names, not wanting to expose them, should the book fall into the wrong hands. Several numbers of old burner phones are crossed out, but the last one isn’t. It’s the number Abigail dials. Without giving the demon the satisfaction of witnessing her despair, she prays for the call to go through. The phone rings three times, four times, causing her to swallow apprehensively. Goddamnit, pick up the phone.      “Hello?”      A sigh of relief slips from her lips. “It’s Abi. I need you to drop everything and get to L.A. as fast as possible.”      “What’s going on?”      “It’s my sister, Zo, she’s–”

     She glances over the desk, watching the person in question staring back. For a second, Zoë seems to be fine: smiling eyes, bright and full of life. Like nothing happened, like their lives are exactly the way they were an hour ago: carefree, peaceful, optimistic. No tears on their faces, no blood on their hands. But then her Zoë’s mouth pulls into a smirk, a smirk that isn’t hers. Her baby sister laughs then, the sound of several dark voices erupting from her throat. Her brown eyes flick to black and little Zo is gone. Goosebumps run up Abigail’s arm and settles in the back of her neck, tears threatening to come down her cheeks.      Abigail tries to compose herself, making sure the words will come out steady when she speaks again. But watching the definition of evil taking full advantage of the person who occupies such a huge space in her heart, is crippling. Acknowledging her family will never be the same again causes her voice to waver.      “She’s possessed, John.”

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work or buy me coffee (Link in bio at the top of the page)

Read chapter two here!

#Supernatural: the Sullivan Series #Dean Winchester fanfiction #Sam Winchester fanfiction #Supernatural OFC #Supernatural OFC series #SPN OFC #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #Zoë Sullivan #Dean Winchester fanfic #Sam Winchester fanfic #Dean fanfiction #Sam fanfiction #Dean fanfic #Sam fanfic #SPN #Supernatural #SPN fanfic #Supernatural fanfic #Supernatural angst #Dean angst #Sam angst #TSS #TSS 1x01 Changes #Kate Huntington

[keeroo92]

Be My Nightmare Ch15

Run

The usual blood/gore warnings apply, plus mentions of alcoholism and *gasp* sex.

Word Count - 5,950

~~~~Previous Chapter~~~~

________

~~~~Reader~~~~

Ugh… why is it so hot in here?

You blinked your eyes and groaned, licking your dry lips as a pounding headache announced its presence. The familiar weight of blankets pressed upon your body, but something wasn’t right. The texture was off, like a layer was missing…

What happened to my shirt?

For that matter, why did your mouth taste like salt?   

Oh shit.

The memories of the night prior flooded your mind, hazy and confused but clear enough to explain the flavor on your lips. Dinner, whiskey and drinking games, and… 

Oh SHIT.

Bedding rustled as you rolled over with a grimace, expecting to find a certain murderous artist by your side. Instead, you found only empty space; the other side of the bed didn’t appear to have been disturbed all night. Was that a good sign, or a bad one?

It didn’t matter. First order of business was getting coffee and some ibuprofen. Everything else would have to wait.

You took your time clambering out of bed, muttering expletives with each motion. The neutral walls and unobtrusive decor did little to ease the urge to vomit, but it was the stairs that made you pause, remembering how you struggled with them last night. 

Just take it slow. One step at a time.

By the time you reached the last step, your hands were screaming to release the railing. Even so, you waited a moment to regain your balance before acquiescing. 

Your tired eyes scanned the familiar shapes of your apartment, searching for a head of tousled ebony locks. He couldn’t have left, could he? Where would he go? Was he out killing someone right this very moment? 

You couldn’t discount the possibility as you found no trace of the man. 

Goddamnit, V! After everything I’ve done to cover your ass…

How could he be so stupid?! If anyone saw him and recognized him, he’d end up right back in police custody! It didn’t make any sense to take the risk, what the hell was he thinking?

You pulled out your phone and opened your email, tapping at the painfully bright screen until you found what you were looking for. It was a long shot, but you were desperate. It might already be too late, you might just make everything worse, but at this point you were screwed anyway.

  You pursed your lips and waited, eyes locked on the screen as if you could make him answer through sheer force of will. Every second he failed to respond heightened your anxiety, innumerable disastrous scenarios playing like a sick film in your imagination. Not since junior high had you been so anxious to hear from someone. Damn him!

Releasing a huff of annoyance, you forced yourself to set the phone down and make coffee. The pounding of your headache wasn’t going to fade unless you took action, and you needed to be able to focus and think clearly. Getting emotional helped nobody. 

As you readied the coffee machine, ears perked in case your phone alerted you to a response, you noticed something odd. The dishes from last night’s dinner were clean, sitting on the drying rack as if you’d scrubbed them in your sleep. 

The madman had cleaned up.

But something was missing.

He stole my sharpest knife. Fuck.

Your head swam and sweat dotted your palms. He might have taken it just as a precaution, but more likely he was out making another art piece. What message was he crafting? No doubt you’d find out sooner or later; the police would probably be in touch once the scene was discovered. At least he did his work in private areas, that lessened the chance he’d be caught in the act. 

But still.

You sighed, hoping against hope that he was safe as you poured a cup of dark roast and took a sip. Bitter and strong, just how you liked it. A dose of ibuprofen accompanied the next gulp. 

I’m not an idiot teenager. Sitting here and waiting won’t make a difference.

Even so, a moment later you checked your phone. Still no response. Damn him!

  Part of you wanted to scream and throw the slim device against the wall. Another part wished for nothing more than a good cry. A whirlwind of emotions, swirling like a tempest at sea, leaving you to battle the waves or drown beneath them.

What if he has another episode? There’s no one there to help him and make sure he’s okay.

Going catatonic at the wrong time may lead to his death. Crossing the street, driving a car, even stalking his prey could leave him exposed and at risk. Heaven forbid it happened in the middle of his creative process; his victim would have the perfect chance to turn the tables and kill him. 

But what could you do to prevent it? How could you keep him safe?

Not to mention the fact that maybe he wouldn’t welcome your aid. It was possible he left with no intention of returning, abandoning you like all the rest. All you’d have to remind you of his presence would be the sketches from his sessions and the absence of your knife. It’d be like he never existed at all, the puzzle of his mind left unsolved.

A tight ball of grief twisted your heart, pins pricking at the corners of your eyes as you struggled to swallow the lump in your throat. After all the people who’d turned their back on you, it really shouldn’t have come as a surprise that the artist did the same. What did you have to offer him, anyway? You should’ve expected it, been ready for it. Why did it always hurt so damned much?

I should just turn myself in… what’s the point anymore? I can’t fix myself; I’m going to be broken forever. No one would miss me anyway.

The thought sent a dagger into your chest, the blade twisting and shredding the last remnants of hope you held. What a stupid thing, to hope. It only brought more pain. Better to accept things the way they were than waste time striving for something better.

Sniffling quietly, you stepped away from the kitchen to part the curtains and grimace at the bright street below, just in case you could spot him. The area you lived in wasn’t crowded; the peace and seclusion brought you comfort in the past. Today, it only hammered home how very alone you were. 

Another glance at your phone. Still nothing. 

He’s gone.

Your shoulders curled inward as a single, strangled sob broke free. Blinking back pointless tears, you swallowed and released a shaky breath, fighting to remain in control. Old habits died hard, and crying wasn’t something you’d allowed yourself to indulge in for many years. Even as you were dying inside, you refused to let the agony show. 

Stop it, Y/N. Think about something else, pull yourself together.

A dark sedan caught your teary eyes. Unfamiliar and parked a few spaces down from your own old beater of a car, it seemed out of place somehow. Like it didn’t belong; an outlier. You pursed your lips and looked closer, letting the puzzle of its presence distract you from your aching soul. Why did it stand out so much?

It’s too clean.

Indeed, the vehicle shone with its lack of filth. In a city with a grand total of two car washes, a clean car was a rare sight. Whoever drove it must have an interesting list of priorities. 

Wait… it couldn’t be.

Your focus narrowed on the license plate. From that distance, it wasn’t easy to tell, but the spacing of the digits left a strange void. Right where the three letters that mark all undercover law enforcement vehicles could be found. XMT.

Exempt. 

“You gotta be shitting me,” you murmured, stunned. Cops. Here, at your home.

I’m under police surveillance. 

You stumbled back from the window, heart racing. Did they already have V in custody? Had he sold you out? What the hell made the cops think you merited surveillance? You’d been so careful to play along, something must have happened for them to suddenly be paying attention to you.

Not that they were wrong.

You couldn’t help but release a peal of manic laughter. This was your life now, watched by the authorities and worrying about the well-being of a man who left you behind. Pitiful. 

I can’t do this, I just can’t.

V was right; you’d been hiding for decades. Concealing your flaws as best you could in the hope that you could one day heal them. Pretending to be all right when you were anything but. You’d grown so accustomed to the mask you didn’t even know what was behind it anymore. 

Your body hit the counter, the sturdy structure supporting your spine as you slid to the floor. Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around your knees and curled inwards, cocooning yourself as best you could. 

With your life in the state it was in, what was the point of it all? Coming back from this disaster would be near impossible. Just thinking about it made your legs feel like lead. An uphill battle to be fought alone was all that awaited you in the weeks to come. Who in their right mind would come to your aid? No; you had no allies. Others couldn’t be trusted, anyway.

V had abandoned you. Kotomi betrayed you, and Malphas… Malphas simply couldn’t be bothered. He hadn’t reached out a single time since your suspension. He obviously didn’t care about you, and he was far too intelligent not to know what really happened on the day of the fire. No, he knew. He just thought Kotomi was more worthy of his protection than you were.

And those were just the people who’d walked away in the last month and a half.

A humorless laugh split your lips. Maybe your dad was right all along. 

Once they get what they want, the people I care about will forget I ever existed. Caring only brings pain.

~~~~V~~~~

Elegant fingers clutched a paper bag in a tight grip, green eyes scanning the block for any sign of danger. He didn’t think there was any reason to fear, but one could never be too careful. The knife in his pocket comforted his nerves as he crossed the last intersection and peered into the parking lot or your apartment complex.

Odd. I don’t recall that car.

His errand hadn’t taken long, perhaps twenty minutes if he were being generous. All his friends begged him to stay put, but their warnings fell on deaf ears. You really didn’t stock your kitchen well, and after last night you’d need a solid breakfast.

Beanie pulled tight against his scalp, V longed to tear it off and scratch away the irritation it brought. He’d tucked his locks within it and borrowed a hoodie from your closet to hide his tattoos. So far, it had been enough to disguise him, but this newcomer made him pause.

Tinted windows. Shadowy outlines of two figures in the front. The vehicle was parked in the ideal spot to watch the front door of the building; it would be impossible to enter without being seen. While he couldn’t be sure who occupied the car, it simply wasn’t worth the risk.

The artist withdrew, traversing the sidewalk beside your building and thanking his lucky stars for the shrubbery that hid him from view. An urge to look over his shoulder swept through his mind, but he ignored it. If someone was watching, it would only make him seem more suspicious. Better to appear unconcerned, as if he belonged here.

If one cannot avoid being seen, one can still avoid standing out.

From what he recalled, your apartment was in the south east corner, two floors up. With only one entrance on ground level, he'd need to get creative to find a way back to you. 

He smirked. Creativity wasn’t something he struggled with.

Within moments he found salvation; an iron wrought fire escape firmly anchored on the eastern wall. He climbed it quickly. Surely you were awake by now, and hopefully coherent enough to let him in. If not, he could settle in and wait. 

Yet through the gauzy curtains covering your window, he spotted you. Curled up on the floor in the kitchen, head bowed. Likely due to the hangover you were sure to be suffering from. Perhaps he should’ve stopped you sooner last night. He tapped the glass with his free hand.

The look on your face as you lifted your head stopped his breath. Vacant eyes, tear tracks on your cheeks on either side of your red and runny nose. It was a look he knew intimately, one of grief and mourning. He’d seen it on his own features for many months after Nero’s passing.

Whatever happened to summon such an expression of sorrow would meet the end of his blade. Quickly.

He tapped the glass again, rewarded when your face shifted to recognition. Those delectable fingers he so adored tasting wiped away tears as you came to let him in. 

“Where were you?” you asked the moment he was inside. “Is that my sweater?”

This is a waste of time. She’s more trouble than she’s worth.

The artist clenched his hands and growled. “Stay out of it.”

“Excuse me?”

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, setting his package on the nearby countertop. “Not you; Vergil was being rude.”

You sniffled, dewy eyed and with fidgeting hands . “Right. S- so, where did you go?”

“It doesn’t matter. What’s wrong?”

The blade in his pocket called to him, urging him to wield it against your foes. He would not allow anything to interfere with his plans for you, not when you were making such excellent progress. 

“I’m fine, it’s nothing,” you said dismissively. “What’s in the bag?”

It was obvious you were not fine, but pressing the issue might do more harm than good. Better to distract you and ask again later, when you were calm. “Here, let me show you.”

Your eyes went wide as he unwrapped the chunk of meat. Blood dripped from the tissue he’d used to wrap it and beautifully soaked the counter with his favorite shade of crimson. If only he had a camera handy…

“That’s not… human, is it?” 

Griffon’s raucous laughter filled his mind, but V only smirked. “Bovine, actually.”

“Ohthankgod…”

At that, he did chuckle. While the human form made a splendid canvas, it didn’t appeal to him as a meal. He had his limits. “I thought I could make you breakfast.”

As if your strings had been cut, you fell into one of the chairs by the counter and stared at him incredulously. “Breakfast… you risked being seen… to make me breakfast.”

He scoffed and reached for a frying pan, flicking the stovetop on with his free hand. “Indeed, though I wouldn’t call it a risk. I wore a disguise.”

You pursed your lips as he seasoned the meat. “You mean my bright orange volleyball sweater? Yeah, you are the epitome of discretion.”

An undercurrent of irritation spoiled your teasing statement. Shadow growled her displeasure and V clenched his jaw. Here he was trying to do something thoughtful and kind, and you only got upset with him. Vergil would surely tease him about it later. Wonderful.

“Sorry. I just... “ you murmured. “I just didn’t know if you were coming back, and-”

“And you think so little of me that you imagined I’d abandoned you?” he snapped, setting aside the spatula and turning to face you. Breakfast could wait. 

You refused to meet his eyes, a stony expression locked in place like a barrier against his annoyance. “Why not? Everyone else has.”

There, she gave you the perfect opening. Leave now and don’t look back.

Yeah, even I say it’s bail time. Gotta draw the line somewhere, pal.

His patience shattered. The artist slammed his palms on the counter with an animalistic snarl, barely noticing how you jumped. “ENOUGH! My decision is made and I will not hear any further protests! Aid me or be silent, all of you!” he roared.

For several seconds, the only sound in your spacious apartment was his panting breath. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, his heart pounding in preparation to do battle, yet it seemed his friends would abide. For now.

He released a long sigh and tore the accursed beanie from his scalp, ruffling his hair to relieve the itchiness. Your sweater wasn’t far behind. A twitch of his slim wrist and the stove was off, waiting until the mood befitted a meal. 

“I must apologize. My friends are quite insistent at times, but in this they cannot sway me,” he began, circling the counter to sit beside you. He peeked through his dark hair to meet your eyes, still wary but warming with each word he spoke. “Forgive my boldness, but I’m not going anywhere.”

You sniffled and offered a subdued smile. “Leave a damned note next time, okay?”

He hummed his agreement and offered his palm. “Deal. Now, come help me with breakfast.”

~~~~Reader~~~~

You spent the next half hour watching V orchestrate a feast. He moved like a dancer through the kitchen, practiced hands flying as he flipped a massive omelet and expertly seared meat. A content smile graced his full lips as he cooked; the man was truly at his happiest when being creative. 

The best help you could offer was staying out of his way.

Not to say he let you sit back and idly watch; not at all. He had you chop vegetables and set the table, taking the chance to touch your shoulder or waist when you were close enough. It was peaceful, like an island in the tempest raging around you. If only things could be like this every day.

But you were a realist, and eventually you couldn’t keep from shattering the illusion.

“So I take it you saw the cops outside? That’s why you took the fire escape, right?”

V frowned as he dished up your half of the omelet. “I wasn’t sure they were cops, but caution seemed prudent.”

You sighed and carried the very full plates to the table, silverware and napkins already prepared. The savory scent of steak brought a flood to your mouth as you took your seat. “Yeah, I think I’m under surveillance.”

The sting of it still hurt. Tony and Nico seemed like nice people, but one of them must have suspicions. It was only a matter of time before the house of cards came tumbling down. All it would take was a moment of inattention, V walking by a window at the wrong moment or getting spotted on his way back inside; it was foolish to imagine he wouldn’t go out again.

So. Options.

“I think our best play is for me to leave. Since they’re watching me, they should follow. Then, you can leave and find somewhere else to lay low.”

The artist smirked, taking a bite of fluffy eggs. “I could just dispose of the issue.”

You shook your head and cut off a chunk of meat, moaning quietly at the exquisite flavor. “No, this looks above board. They’d just send more cops and get more suspicious.”

Not to mention all the other reasons murder isn’t the right way to solve your problems...

Before he could reply, a sharp knock on the door stole your attention. Your eyes and V’s went wide in unison, though his hand hovered by his pocket far too quickly for your liking. He still hadn’t returned your knife…

“Squirt, it’s me! I know you’re home, saw your car.”

Ice filled your veins. He wouldn’t leave without getting whatever he came for, he never did. Damnit, of all the times he could've picked to randomly show up! Was he drunk? What the fuck did he want? You sighed.

“It’s my father. Take your plate and go upstairs. I’ll get him to leave as soon as I can.”

The artist’s eyes flashed. “The drinker?”

“Yes, just go! He can’t find out you’re here.”

His nostrils flared, jaw tight. His posture reminded you forcefully that he wasn’t just some guy you had over for breakfast; this was a serial killer with untold amounts of blood on his hands. A man mentally unstable enough to be sent to a psychiatric hospital, with frequent auditory and occasional visual hallucinations. “Unpredictable and dangerous” was putting it mildly.

Though, some problems can be solved with murder.

“Just say the word, you’ll never have to deal with him again.”

Instead of answering him, you stood and headed for the door. Following your instructions at last, V ascended the stairs with a frown. He’d just have to deal with it, it’s not like these were normal circumstances.

With your best false smile in place, you opened the door. “Hi dad. What are you doing here?”

Greasy brown hair covered a growing bald patch on his scalp. A beer gut bulged out from his flannel tee, a stench of Miller radiating from him like cheap drugstore cologne. A few days worth of stubble cast a shadow on his jaw.

At least he’s not covered in vomit.

“Heya, squirt! You gonna invite me in?”

Do I have a choice?

“Yeah, of course. Come in.”

You made it a point to not socialize with him unless he initiated. There was too much bad blood, too many tainted memories and half-hearted apologies. He was beyond forgiveness and you were done trying to build a bridge when he insisted on burning it down. The most you’d grant him was civility, if only to avoid outright conflict. 

“Nice place. Kinda too perfect, though.”

Ten seconds in, and already he’d insulted you. Not a new record, but close. “I like it this way. Uh, what… what are you doing here?”

He shot you a lopsided grin, displaying his yellowed teeth. “Can’t a father visit his genius daughter? C’mon, let’s catch up. You got anything to drink?”

Not after last night, no.

But you let him see for himself. He wouldn’t take your word for it if you tried, anyway. Like many alcoholics, he always believed himself to be the victim of persecution. As if it excused his rotten behavior. 

“Nothing?” he said at last, closing the final cupboard. “Damn, you’re lame…”

“S- sorry. Maybe we can go out instead?”

It set your teeth on edge to hear yourself stutter. In high school, it’d been the main reason you got picked on, along with your father’s history. It wasn’t easy to escape the blight of sharing blood with the man. Just one night, a mere handful of hours to keep your secrets hidden. You could tolerate him that long, surely.

“Nah, how about you just run to the store and get me something like a good girl?” 

Don’t you call me that. Don’t you dare call me that.

You bit your tongue. Emotions were just a chemical reaction; you were in control. He just stimulated the neurons that brought this feeling on, it wasn’t like he had any actual power over you. Not anymore. 

“Look, this, uh, this isn’t really a good time for me. Can we catch up later this week?” you replied. A mask of neutrality paralyzed your face, but inside you were screaming.

Get out! Get out of my home, this place is mine and I won’t let you ruin it! Haven’t you done enough damage?

You knew better than to let the words take shape as your father settled into your couch, propping his legs up and sighing happily. “Truth is, I got evicted. Got nowhere else to go, so figured I’d stay with you until I get back on my feet. Hell, you could even help me get going like you used to.”

Never had V’s method of solving problems appealed to you more. It didn’t matter how much you wanted him to leave - you would never agree to be his accomplice again. “What about a hotel? My couch isn’t that comfortable.”

He chuckled, gesturing dismissively as if your words held no weight. “S’fine, I’ll take the bed. Oh, is that steak? Awesome!”

1000… 993… 986…

The sound of his chewing and happy moans barely preceded V’s footsteps. 

No, no, nonono! What are you doing?! You idiot!

“Good evening,” the artist began, approaching your father’s meat-stuffed face with his own plate in hand. Though his expression was still, sparks of rage flickered in his green depths and his hand twitched toward his pocket. As if the situation wasn’t bad enough already…

“Uh, hi? Who are you?”

One metaphorically bloodstained hand extended over the table to shake the equally morally questionable hand of your kin. “You can call me V.”

“Heh. V. Weird name. You sleeping with my daughter?”

Someone please just kill me. I’m so fucking done.

It wasn’t embarrassment that made you purse your lips as V sat down. It was the knowledge of what would inevitably come out of your father’s lips and the potentially atomic reaction it would elicit from V. 

“More or less,” replied the artist, taking a bite of his own steak.

Your father glanced at you and smirked, as if to say ‘watch this’. A sinkhole opened in your stomach as he licked his lips. This was it, train wreck in five, four, three...

“You sure you want her? She’s kinda… well... “ his voice dropped. “She’s kinda nuts.”

A flash of silver, copper staining the air as fresh blood soaked your table. Maniacal laughter and a twisted sense of relief, that at least you’d never have to hear his voice again, endure his insults or manipulations…

That was what you expected.

You did not expect V to laugh and wave you over, wrapping an arm around your waist possessively the moment you were close enough. You did not expect him to smile at you fondly and never would you have imagined his response. 

“I know. That’s why I love her.”

Intricately tattooed fingers brought your hand to the artist’s lips for a kiss. You barely made it to the chair beside him before your legs refused to support you. Love… Is that what he called it? It had to be an act, some scheme to throw off your father. 

He can’t be serious.

“You got some fucking shitty taste in women, then, my friend. The last guy she was with wound up dead, the one before that still can’t walk properly.”

Beneath the table, V’s hand clenched yours in a vice-like grip. His wrist kept twitching, closer to his pocket where your knife still resided. It took all your strength to pull him back.

“Dad, knock it off. Let’s get you a hotel room, we can talk tomorrow.”

He took another bite and grinned. “Whasamatter? Don’t want me talking to your newest boy-toy?”

V’s grip tightened. You winced but refused to pull away, lest he lose control. How long had it been since he killed? Most killers had a pattern, a time frame. If he were overdue, restraining it would be even more difficult. 

Defuse, deflect, de-escalate.

An obviously fake laugh found its way past your lips. “Aw, don’t worry. I’ll always be a daddy’s girl.”

The source for half of your genetic material burped and polished off the last bite of steak, chewing open-jawed as if trying to catch flies. “Good girl,” he said.

That time, it was your hand that twitched closer to the blade.

By all rights, you knew he was toying with you. Playing with your fucked-up head and sending it spinning, like a child’s top or a carousel. It was his standard opening move; destroy any existing emotional framework and get you to revert to being his “good girl”. Burn you to ash so he could rebuild you however he pleased. Remind you of how powerless you were and how easily he could ruin everything you built.

Angry tears prickled at your eyes, a baseball blooming into existence where your vocal cords were supposed to be. If you clenched your teeth any harder, you’d crack a molar. Every ounce of self-control and restraint went into withholding a scream.

~~~~V~~~~

Your father was perhaps the most magnificent canvas he’d ever seen. The sheer volume of ways he wanted to carve the man into pieces outnumbered the entirety of his portfolio. A slice here, a stab there, how delicious would it be to make the man eat his own eyeballs? His steaming entrails spilling onto the floor, his still-beating heart visible through the hole artistically positioned across his ribcage; the ideas refused to slow.

But you’d told him long ago not to harm the bastard. 

Not yet...

“Let’s get the dishes started and give your father a moment to settle in, hmm?” V commented. 

“Works for me. Where’s the remote, squirt?”

“Coffee table,” you ground out. 

The instant the abominable man turned away, he pulled you to your feet and grabbed a dish. How would your father’s spleen look on a plate? Or perhaps his cock? The artist hummed; that was an idea worth revisiting.

The kitchen was barely far enough to be considered out of earshot, but it would have to suffice. He licked his lips and asked the first question that came to mind. “Why do you let him speak to you like that?”

A muscle in your cheek clenched as you released his palm, eyes narrowed into a ferocious glare. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

Lithe fingers handed you a plate. “I strongly disagree.”

“It’s none of your business.”

Water spewed from the faucet and you commenced scrubbing, using more force than he imagined was required. He handed you the next plate. A knife was next, but he hesitated. It fit so well in his fingers, like it was calling his name…

Do it. Stab her, kill them both and leave. Enough foolishness.

He dropped the knife.

His words still echoed in his mind. “That’s why I love her.”

It wasn’t strictly a lie, but was it the truth? Why else did the monstrosity in the living room still breathe? Why else would he hesitate to slice the fool’s throat open and dance in the gushing fluid? 

Yeesh, look what she’s turned you into, Van Gogh. This is just pathetic.

“Stop it,” he muttered, handing you the dropped knife as quickly as possible. The warmth and comfort it brought moments ago was but a memory. Only cold steel remained, foreign and obscene to his grip.

“Stop what?”

Kill her. She is nothing, a plaything you’ve outgrown. You’re free now, she is unnecessary. 

He shook his head. Wide jade eyes searched for something safe to view. A cutting board? Perfect for slicing your thighs open. Kitchen shears? Excellent choice for severing tendons. A wine glass - the perfect container to hold your detached fingers.

Just do it, you’ll feel better. Trust us, have we ever led you wrong?

“V? What’s wrong?” 

His skull was splitting, too many voices all at once and why wouldn’t they just shut up? Yours was the one life he wished to preserve, why did his friends want to end it? Far away, he heard your voice calling his name, but it was like you were a ghost calling from beyond the veil. 

Kill her. Kill her. Kill her…

No!

Dainty hands wrapped around his torso, a warm voice telling him to breathe. He latched on with all he had, desperate to let those arms comfort him and bring him back to himself. 

Kill her.

Agony. 

Wave after wave of unbearable pain, rolling over him with no end in sight. Like a boulder on a beach, eventually he would wear away into nothingness. He was powerless against the inferno boiling his blood and the spikes digging into his gut. 

Kill her.

He lacked the strength to stand and fell to his knees, groaning as he struggled to resist the shining blade glittering in the dishwasher. It would be so easy to end his suffering, all he had to do was take the handle and plunge it into your body. He could do it over and over until nothing remained but holes for him to fuck. To feel you wrapped around him was a persistent fantasy, how divine would it be to create caverns only he would ever enjoy?

“NO!”

The artist lurched to his feet and ran, sprinting to the exit as fast as his long stride would carry him. It didn’t matter that he had no sweater and no beanie, it didn’t matter that the police were right outside, he didn’t care that he would never again taste freedom. 

All that mattered was putting distance between himself and you.

~~~~Reader~~~~

You stood in stunned silence as the door swung shut behind V’s departing figure. The sink still sprayed water, ricocheting off a forgotten plate to douse the counter and your stomach but it didn’t matter. 

The wanted murderer you’d been giving shelter was gone. Running outside in full view of the police watching you.

Your life was over.

“Fuck…”

Somehow, throughout this whole mess you’d believed you could put your life back together. There was always a path back, always a way to move forward. It wouldn’t be easy, nor quick, but it was still possible.

V had just drenched that chance with gasoline and tossed a lit match on it.

It happened so fast; your hands still hovered where you’d been trying to hold him. Leftover heat from his body warmed the air and his scent lingered in your nostrils like a memory. 

“Where’d that loser go? You scare him off?”

Your shell-shocked gaze turned to your father. Everything was fine before he showed up. Did he even know what he’d done? Did he care? “He’s… he’s gone.”

“Good riddance, I say. Now it’s just me and you, like old times.”

Old times…

There was still hope. Maybe the cops were gone, maybe V managed to slip past them. You could still salvage this. You had to at least try.

But… how?

You closed your eyes, mind racing. There were two obstacles you had to deal with; the cops, and your father. Operating on the assumption that all was not lost meant that the cops could be ignored for now. If they were still a factor, it was a moot point.

That left your father.

The man who took less than ten seconds to insult you when he arrived.

The man who coerced you into counting cards as a child.

The man who’d run over a kid in your third grade class.

The man who demanded everything and gave nothing back.

The man who would sell you out as soon as he’d blink.

The old you would have backed down and meekly done as he told you. Gone back to pretending you were okay and that you felt things the same way as everyone else. Accepted his praise and craved more, never imagining there was a different life out there for you. 

I can’t- what do I do? What would V do?

You already knew the answer. He’d do what was necessary. The artist would never pretend, he’d tear the mask from his face and scream his defiance to the world. No matter the cost, he would not shy away from it.

No more hiding.

A trembling hand reached into the soapy water and grasped the same blade V stole just hours ago. How fitting, to use it for this. 

It’s time to take action.

~~~~Next Chapter~~~~

#fanfiction #fanfic #Be My Nightmare #my writing #DMCV #DMC #devil may cry #reader insert #tw: gore #tw: blood #tw: alcoholism

[sand-rose]

Right back at you for all the ocs! I especially love the name apocothea (I think I spelled it right?) Its super cool!!

Thank you so much!! :) Sorry this took awhile to answer, I’ve been busy with work and other stuff. But here they are! I was actually in the process of redesigning my OCs when I saw the post (thanks to Sims inspiration and wanting to update how I draw them), so it was perfect timing! I don’t have the drawings done yet but maybe soon…

Full Name: Pandora

Gender & Sexuality: Female, Pansexual (yes, punny, but also serious)

Pronouns: She/Her

Ethnicity/Species: my Balanced Ego

Birthplace & Birthdate: my mind, August 10

Guilty Pleasures: She loves taking bubble baths. Bring on the bath bombs and fragrant soaps, and the (pink) rubber ducky is a must! She also loves stuffed animals (especially pandas). And it surprises a lot of people, but she’s also an avid fan of anime/manga and video games.

Phobias: Accidentally losing one of her earrings, which keep her balanced. She’s particularly afraid of what she might do if this happens, because she loses control of herself and becomes truly evil. A past experience in regards to this also makes her uncomfortable around sheep. (Even toys or drawings of sheep. She will get a flashback and start sobbing, apologizing to the ‘poor sheepies’ until they’re out of sight.)

What They Would Be Famous For: Probably owning the only fashion-themed amusement park in the Ego World, or her fashion designs.

What They Would Get Arrested For: Being a public nuisance, like getting too hyper and making too much noise. Because honestly, if someone told her to shut up she would only get louder to spite them. She’s not afraid to get in a fight though, so maybe that too… Maybe for throwing a heel at someone. lol

OC You Ship Them With: Reim. He’s much calmer than her, but loves her crazy antics.

OC Most Likely To Murder Them: It. He gets along with Pan better than Aurora, but he can only take so much of her 'hyper hyper happy happy joy joy’ personality.

Favorite Movie/Book Genre: romance and rom-coms. The blossoming love between two people! The heartbreaking 'is this it?’ fights! The oblivious misunderstandings! Burnt dinners! The hand holding, the hugs, the kisses…! (You get it.)  

Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: When everything turns out to be a dream. Her Host loves this cliche. She hates it because 'what was the point of it all if it never really happened?!’

Talents and/or Powers: She’s a talented fashion designer. She likes to draw, like her Host, but when she became interested in clothes when she was younger she was frustrated that she couldn’t wear the clothes she drew. So she learned how to sew and began making her own clothes. She’s also very imaginative and ambitious.

Why Someone Might Love Them: She’s fun to be around, always a bouncing ball of energy! She likes pretty things, and considers everyone around her to be pretty in their own way. She’s the person who will convince you to try that new thing, or who will say 'Let’s go somewhere, my treat!’ when she sees you need cheering up. She’s also ready to kick ass if anyone dares hurt her friends or loved ones.

Why Someone Might Hate Them: She’s so hyper… Some people might find her hyperness endearing, but some people find it exhausting. She’s also had people judge her before based on her girly-ness, interest in fashion, and how she looks like a typical anime girl, but she doesn’t let it bother her.  

How They Change: She hasn’t changed all that much since I first created her back in middle school. She’s grown a lot more mature emotionally, I think, and she’s more careful about other people’s feelings.

Why You Love Them: She was the last of my Egos to be created, and she’s probably the best representation of who I wish I was. She’s daring, outspoken, bubbly, made a career for herself doing something she loves… I love her because even though that’s not me and probably never will be me, I still like to think that she’s cheering me on. “Don’t be afraid! You can do it!” lol  

Full Name: It

Gender & Sexuality: Male, not sure (he’s never given it much thought)

Pronouns: He/Him

Ethnicity/Species: my Alter Ego

Birthplace & Birthdate: my mind, October 31

Guilty Pleasures: He has a collection of weird t-shirts that he’s both bought and designed himself. He also has a collection of light sabers that he may or may not have bought off the Ego World’s black market that trades in Other World (Worlds of Licensed Series) objects…

Phobias: Becoming a soft goody two-shoes like Aurora… Gag.

What They Would Be Famous For: Nothing. He’s too lazy to really stand out much. And he’s fine with that.

What They Would Get Arrested For: Disrupting the peace. He’s got a temper, and when it flares he’s liable to kick/hit any object unlucky enough to be in his way. Be it a trash can, car, mailbox… He’s broken his toes for kicking a brick wall before. He’s also got problems with authority figures since he doesn’t like being told what to do, so if the police show up it would just escalate the situation. There was also the time he bombed Aurora’s house, but that was years ago, when he was jealous he wasn’t my only Ego anymore. He was a lot more evil back then, and Aurora (being the kind soul she is and understanding how he felt) didn’t press charges.

OC You Ship Them With: Apocothea. She keeps him in check and doesn’t put up with his crap, yet somehow sees the… best… in him…?

OC Most Likely To Murder Them: Pandora. She gets fed up with his gloomy outlook on life and gets cranky when he gives her attitude. They get into lots of arguments over nothing, especially with their quick tempers.

Favorite Movie/Book Genre: Horror/Suspense. He likes movies with lots of jumpscares, gore, and freaky nightmarish scenarios. They get his blood pumping and while he’s not that evil enough to enjoy people getting hurt, he likes to think about what he would do if he was trapped in that house trying to escape the serial killer. And of course, though he’s not a clown or even named after said clown, he likes Stephen King novels.

Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: It was love at first sight. He doesn’t believe in it, and if he sees that cliche he skips a few minutes past it or turns a few pages ahead, hopefully to a less mushy scene.

Talents and/or Powers: He’s great at video games. He actually earns money by playing video games for people who get stuck on them. They send him the game, he plays past the part they got stuck on to the next save, he sends it back. He’s been debating lately if he should start livestreaming, but his laziness in acquiring the equipment and setting up a room for it is currently holding him back.

Why Someone Might Love Them: He’s… It. lol He’s an Alter Ego who by all means should be trying to take over the world and plotting evil deeds, but either due to his laziness or from the influence of those closest to him, he just isn’t that into it. He’s just a cranky man that loves to kick over trash cans in my Sims game. lol

Why Someone Might Hate Them: He rubs a lot of people the wrong way, and with good reason. He’s not very social not because he’s shy but because he hates people in general. He comes off as rude when you first meet him, and he likes to glare for no reason. (He probably thinks it makes him look tough.) Honestly it’s a wonder people like him.

How They Change: He’s changed quite a bit since I first created him in middle school! He’s probably the most changed of all my OCs. At first he started out as a wolf demon, but after a few weeks he became my Alter Ego in a human form and stayed that way. He still has fangs, they’re just smaller. They serve no purpose, he just looks good with them! He’s also not as evil as he used to be, but like I said, I like to think that Pan and Aurora are a good influence on him.

Why You Love Them: He was my very first Ego! Way back in 6th grade I used to write and draw my own stories and share them with friends, and he got a pretty good response from them and they wanted to hear more about him. I wrote conversations between me (the Host) and him during free time in class and my friends loved reading them, and it kind of took off from there. Aurora was created next, then Pandora, and even though they were fictional characters I’d made up they started to feel like a second family to me. And they still do! lol

Full Name: Aurora

Gender & Sexuality: Female, Straight

Pronouns: She/Her

Ethnicity/Species: my Good Ego

Birthplace & Birthdate: my mind, February 23

Guilty Pleasures: She likes knitting and has so much yarn she doesn’t know what to do with it. She spoils her cat Cupcake with so many toys she doesn’t know what to do with them all. She has so many recipe books she doesn’t know what to do with them all. She’s actually a very neat person though, so another guilty pleasure would probably be cleaning. lol

Phobias: Heights, needles, and spiders (like her Host). I feel bad she shares my phobias. (Sorry, Aurora!) She’s also afraid of sharks, ever since she watched Jaws years ago and had nightmares for a week about them. She knows it's not good to be afraid of sharks and they get a bad rep, so she's trying to overcome that fear.

What They Would Be Famous For: Her cookies! She owns a bakery and while her cakes, brownies, and cupcakes are delicious, it’s her cookies that rake in the most dough. (Ha.) Every customer has their favorite, but hers is her creamy peanut butter cookies. They’re so soft and chewy, and she sprinkles peanut bits in so there’s a little crunch too!

What They Would Get Arrested For: The day Aurora gets arrested for anything is the day the world ends. She’s too pure, too innocent, to do anything resulting in arrest. She apologizes to insects when she has to capture them before setting them free! She gives away too many free samples at her bakery! She cries when she accidentally forgets to water a plant and it dies! If she ever gets arrested for anything, Pan and It may legit seek revenge to restore her honor…

OC You Ship Them With: Marcus. He’s sweet, she’s sweet! Their relationship might be normal and therefore a little boring to some people, but they love each other and are happy just to be together. They’re like an old married couple. lol

OC Most Likely To Murder Them: Not a single soul. Not even It. (Anymore.) She’s too kind for this world. An angel!

Favorite Movie/Book Genre: Generally anything except horror and war movies. She gets too nervous and scared watching horror, and gets too emotional watching battles with people fighting and dying. She tends to like comedies the most though, since they’re usually upbeat and make her laugh. She’s also a sucker for heartwarming stories. Those Chicken Soup for the Soul books? She’s probably got the whole collection, regardless of the intended audience.

Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: 'I had to do it. I had to kill them.’ She refuses to believe that killing is the only option no matter how dire a situation might be and will visibly get upset when she comes across this cliche. When she gets upset her face reddens and her lip wobbles, and if Marcus or Pan is with her she might rant to them about all the other options the protagonist had.

Talents and/or Powers: She is excellent at cooking, but baking is her specialty! If she’s mastered a recipe, she’ll master it again until it’s even better. And if she finds a new recipe, she will pull an all-nighter until she’s perfected it.

Why Someone Might Love Them: She’s such a sweetheart, bless her. She’s what the world needs more of: just honestly pure, good people. She’s the person who if she came across someone in need, she would give them everything she had. If you’re feeling down, she’ll do all she can to make you happy again. She’s definitely the mom friend.

Why Someone Might Hate Them: Some might consider her too good. Like It. He gets annoyed when she does things out of the kindness of her heart for no reason. He just doesn’t understand how someone can be that selfless. He thinks of her as a crybaby and she worries a lot, so that irritates him too. And others might be suspicious of her at first, wondering what she’s hiding or what she wants. But once people get to know her, they adore her and look to her for advice if they need help. Or just want free food. lol

How They Change: She’s probably the one who has changed the least. She’s always been the angel on my shoulder, the do-gooder. Someone has to keep the peace with the other two Egos around, after all.

Why You Love Them: Aurora is the one who resembles me the most, both in terms of looks and personality. There are some differences, though. She’s not shy, just quiet and reserved. She’s more comfortable with confrontations than I am, especially if it’s a matter of right vs wrong. I don’t have a problem with horror and war stuff. I wish I knew how to cook/bake. And I don’t think I could ever be as selfless as her. Basically, she’s a goody goody two-shoes, like It says. But it’s not a bad thing!

Full Name: Reim

Gender & Sexuality: Male, Bisexual

Pronouns: He/Him

Ethnicity/Species: Ego Entity

Birthplace & Birthdate: Ego World (specifically the city Venia), April 14

Guilty Pleasures: talking to his plants, liking movies that everyone else hates, singing in the shower, and he also enjoys the occasional bubble bath (thanks to Pan convincing him he was missing out on life if he didn’t take one now and then) (she was right)

Phobias: Moths. When he was little a big one got caught in his hair and he accidentally smashed it trying to get it out. It was messy and gross.

What They Would Be Famous For: Hopefully for his paintings! He does all kinds of paintings, and has even had a few displayed in art shows. He likes doing landscape art the best, because he loves plants and nature.

What They Would Get Arrested For: Not that he’s looking to get arrested, but he’s secretly always wanted to experiment with graffiti…

OC You Ship Them With: Pandora. Just when he thinks he knows her, she surprises him and he loves it! She makes him see how exciting and fun life is, and she’s always encouraging him with his latest art project and boasting about his paintings to her friends.

OC Most Likely To Murder Them: Probably It. It and Reim don’t see eye to eye a lot… Reim’s pretty optimistic, and that clashes with It’s pessimism. They don’t exactly hate each other, but they get on each other’s nerves. “You threw off my groove!” “Fuck your groove!” Yatta yatta…

Favorite Movie/Book Genre: He loves animated movies. As an artist, he really appreciates them and considers them art, so he’s constantly rewinding scenes because he was focusing on the style or shading instead of what was going on. As for books, he likes fantasy. He likes escaping to another world, and fantasy can be anything and everything, just like a painting.

Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: Not really a typical cliche but… He really hates noir style stuff. Noir movies annoy him to no end because there’s no color and he wishes he could restore the color so bad. He needs color! And when people talk noir style, with the witty and flirtatious old-fashioned banter. It’s just so cheesy to him… This extends to books as well. He prefers deep conversations between characters rather than quick one-liners.

Talents and/or Powers: He’s an artist, so he’s well-rounded in a variety of mediums. Painting, drawing, sculptures, photography… He enjoys painting the most though!

Why Someone Might Love Them: He’s a down-to-earth guy that has his goals set and has a plan to achieve them. He knows what he wants in life and he also knows not to get his hopes up. He does hope his dreams come true, but if not he’s got plenty of back up plans. He’s just a nice guy in general, always ready to lift the mood with a joke or a grin.

Why Someone Might Hate Them: For people like It, optimistic people can be annoying. No matter the situation, Reim looks on the bright side of things and his pleasant attitude and charming smile can make It angry. Because life sucks, and It knows it, but apparently Reim doesn’t. Reim’s not optimistic all the time, however, and he does have days where he’s a little moody or depressed, but he tends to keep to himself those days (so of course It doesn’t know that).

How They Change: Reim started out as a painting I did my senior year, so I thought it fitting to give him the painter career in my Sims game. Until that point I didn’t know much about him but watching him interact with my other characters has helped me flesh out what kind of person he is. He looked more emo and brooding in the painting, but in Sims he’s a cheerful guy who enjoys life, so I like that change in him.

Why You Love Them: He’s the character I didn’t know was going to be created. But I’m glad I did that painting of him years ago! Before I made him in Sims, I wanted to do more with his character and knew I wanted him with Pandora, but that was about it. Originally Pan was with someone else from an Other World, and for reasons it didn’t work out, but I think she and Reim are a perfect match. They balance each other out.

Full Name: Apocothea

Gender & Sexuality: Female, Demisexual

Pronouns: She/Her

Ethnicity/Species: Ego Entity

Birthplace & Birthdate: Ego World (specifically outside the town Abraxxus), November 2

Guilty Pleasures: Obsessed with Itachi from Naruto, so she has a collection of Itachi merchandise that shouldn’t even exist (her father knows people). She loves anime/manga and video games, and rock/heavy metal music. She also enjoys fan fiction (smut included, but she is picky about it).  

Phobias: This woman has no fear. You should be the one afraid.

What They Would Be Famous For: Not exactly famous, but her old classmates still remember the day the teacher was late and Apocothea calmly walked up to the front of the class and announced the teacher had been in a horrible accident and she was in charge now. She spoke with such authority that no one questioned her, and she proceeded to pass out copies of the 'worst fan fiction she had ever read’ for them to read and critique. It turned out that the teacher had been in a car accident (from speeding), and when the principal delivered the news everyone turned to her in fear. Of course she hadn’t really known… She just saw an opportunity and took it. She needed beta readers for her first fic, after all.

What They Would Get Arrested For: She’s too clever to get herself arrested. Anyone who leaves fingerprints and DNA samples is a Class-A moron. But if she did get arrested, somehow, it would probably be for making the police officer feel like an idiot. Or she would just ignore them and do the opposite of what they ordered her to do out of pure spite. Challenging authority and whatnot.

OC You Ship Them With: It. She wins all the arguments, basically, but they’re stupid arguments to begin with. They bicker back and forth, but it’s from love(?). I don’t know… Their relationship is kind of hard to explain. lol There’s not a lot of typical romance between them, but they do have their moments that say 'Yeah, they’re a couple alright!’

OC Most Likely To Murder Them: Nobody’s brave enough to even try murdering her. She’d murder them first.

Favorite Movie/Book Genre: Like It, she enjoys horror. Except where he’s the guy to think 'what would I do if I was trapped in a house with a serial killer?’, she’s the girl who thinks, 'If I was the serial killer, I’d go after them this way… That guy’s an asshole, anyway.’ She also likes murder mystery novels, but she’s always disappointed when she figures out who the killer is halfway through the book.

Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: 'The chosen one will save us!’ She doesn’t buy into the whole 'only this person can do it’ trope. Really? Only that person? But he’s an idiot. What if he dies? Then what? Guess the world ends.

Talents and/or Powers: I guess you could say her skill at Guitar Hero is a talent. She’s undefeated with all the Guitar Hero games (every mode, even expert). Other than that, she’s very talented at pretty much anything and everything, but especially at making people feel uncomfortable and fragile in her presence.

Why Someone Might Love Them: If you can get past her intimidating exterior, she’s a pretty cool gal. She’s kind of like Hana-chan from Fruits Basket… The things she says can come off as strange and threatening, but if you become her friend she would quite literally kill for you. She also has a younger sister named Analyse, and you can definitely tell they’re sisters from the way they look and talk.

Why Someone Might Hate Them: She’s very blunt, and if she doesn’t like you she won’t hold back on insults. Lots of people get offended when she does this, but that’s kind of the point. She can also be crafty in the way she talks to people, so sometimes they’re really not sure if she’s insulting them or complimenting them.  

How They Change: She’s changed just a little since I created her. Her relationship with It before was very one-sided, and she liked toying with him. She still likes to, actually, but it’s more affectionate now. She’s always been confident and in charge, but I think being with It has taught her that a relationship requires more teamwork and less blackmail.

Why You Love Them: Again, she’s one of those characters that displays traits I wish I had. She’s not afraid to be assertive, she loves herself for who she is, and doesn’t give a damn what other people think of her. And she gives off this vibe, like you really don’t want to trust that smile she’s wearing. Her calm but menacing demeanor really compliments It’s personality too, I think. He’s fire, she’s ice!

Full Name: Marcus

Gender & Sexuality: Male, Straight

Pronouns: He/Him

Ethnicity/Species: Ego Entity

Birthplace & Birthdate: Ego World (specifically a suburban area named Hannen), March 27

Guilty Pleasures: watching YouTube/EgoTube videos, memes, taking internet quizzes… And surprising Aurora on a regular basis with flowers and chocolate like the romantic sap he is!

Phobias: Puking and cuts on the skin. When he’s sick he gets very agitated and nervous and will refuse to eat solid food in case he can’t keep it down. (Soup and water only, basically.) With cuts, it’s not the blood he fears but the sensation of skin splitting. It stems from when he was a teenager and got a deep cut on his knee. Little nicks while shaving are no biggie, but papercuts make him lightheaded and make his skin crawl.

What They Would Be Famous For: He’s a very relaxed guy who honestly doesn’t stand out much, but his friends know him as the tech guy. Computer or game console acting up? Marcus knows how to fix it. TV or phone bugging out? Call Marcus, he’s your guy.

What They Would Get Arrested For: Like Aurora, he would never get arrested for anything. He’s too nice to do anything like property damage or fighting, and he’s never gotten a ticket for anything in his life.

OC You Ship Them With: Aurora. They’re so precious together, too good, too sweet! They dote on each other and probably unintentionally make other couples jealous. lol

OC Most Likely To Murder Them: It. Another goody goody two-shoes frustrates him even more than one. The only thing It appreciates about Marcus is that he’s not above using swear words (unlike Aurora). And maybe the fact that he’s willing to fix It’s laptop and game systems for free.

Favorite Movie/Book Genre: He really likes documentaries and informational books. He’s always interested in learning something new, and he’d much rather watch an hour-long documentary on EBS than watch the newest hit movie. He was the kid in school who always read the assigned Literature, Real World History & Ego World History, and Science books for fun.

Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: He doesn’t like when a side character you grew attached to suddenly dies. They make you care about them, only to kill them off! What the hell?

Talents and/or Powers: Talented with fixing all things tech. He does claim it’s his superpower! lol

Why Someone Might Love Them: When you find a genuinely nice guy who cares a lot about you, you struck gold! Aurora loves his soft, sensitive side when he’s alone with her and also loves his corny jokes. People in general like how laid back he is, as he’s very patient and knows everybody makes mistakes. He’s the guy who will walk an old lady across the street if she needs help, the guy who literally climbed a tree to get a cat out of it (sneaky little Cupcake!). Nice guys do exist, and he’s one of the best!

Why Someone Might Hate Them: Again… There’s people like It. They get annoyed with the whole 'nice guy act’, especially once they learn it’s not an act at all but just how he is. They might get jealous when they see how much other people like him, but more often than not they come around, especially after he helps them with something and expects nothing in return.

How They Change: His character hasn’t changed much, either. He’s thoughtful, kind, cheerful… He’s popular with everyone he hangs out with, because he gets along with pretty much everyone. He’s polite, open to new things and opinions, and though he admits he might be a little boring to be around he also doesn’t mind. Such a great guy!

Why You Love Them: He and Aurora are a pair of cinnamon rolls, too sweet, too pure for this world! Even though I created him long before I met Alex, he reminds me of him. lol Marcus is the perfect example for how you should treat your loved ones, and anyone you meet, really. He’s like the Mr. Rogers of the gang, I guess you could say. He just wants everybody to respect each other and be kind to themselves and others.

Sorry if this got super long, I just really love these characters. lol Also! When I was reading your OC post I found it really cool that some of our characters have birthdays either on the same day or really close, that made me smile! :D

Thanks so much for the ask again!!

#egos #my ocs

[shanastoryteller]

red sparrow rewritten

so i saw red sparrow yesterday, and it was … well, i didn’t love it. as someone who’s not normally too bothered by that type of thing, there was too much sexualized violence and gore for me to actually enjoy it, so

here’s how i would have done it:

we’ll keep the beginning. dominika is the prima ballerina, taking care of her ailing mother. she suffers a career ending injury, threatening her ability to care for her mother and herself.

her rich, connected uncle vanya makes her an offer. he’s been kind, but distant. he proves to her that the injury was no accident, and just like in the movie she goes to the ballet, and finds her coworkers who did this, and she beats them with her walking stick. she doesn’t kill them, but it’s close, oh so close, it’s more luck that they don’t die than anything else.

the movie had vanya want her, had him attracted to his niece, and her mother makes a comment about not liking the way he looked at her as a child. we’re going to take that out, because it’s unnecessary. it doesn’t add anything, doesn’t come up plot-wise, it’s only purpose was to make it extra clear that we Don’t Like Him and he’s a Creep. which we figure out, like, pretty damn quickly, we don’t need it. complicated people are more realistic, are more interesting than one dimensional villains. if there’s one thing this movie desperately needed, it was to stop beating a dead horse, and then trying to have sex with it.

so her vanya sees her for what she is: his niece. his dead brother’s daughter. he tried to be helpful after his brother’s death – he took her out to eat at nice restaurants, loving the way she pretended to be a little lady, and her serious eyes and serious mouth. but he’s busy, and he’s not good with kids. but she wants to be dancer, and she’d good, so he gets her the audition that gets her into the company, uses her too, brings his slimy political “friends” to watch his beautiful niece dance. she’s a perfect specimen of russian beauty, control, and skill, and he shows her off thusly.

he’s not a good person, doesn’t do good things. but he tries to be helpful. so he comes to her with the offer – sleep with this man and while he’s distracted switch his phone with one they’ve bugged, and he’ll see that she and her mother are taken care of. of course, he’s rich and connected enough to do that anyway, but he won’t do it for free – because he’s not a good person, and he doesn’t do good things.

she wants to refuse, but he pressures her, saying her mother will suffer if she doesn’t do it. so she agrees, and it sickens her, but she does it. then we get to the scene where the man starts to rape her (so unnecessary, so unneeded, she’d already “consented” to this, she would have slept with him, but the movie couldn’t let dominika go through anything un-traumatized). the movie had Boy Assassin come in and kill him while he was still on top of her, still inside her. he could have come in earlier, but waited until he was already fucking her.

yeah, no.

for all the sex and gore and death, dominika doesn’t kill anyone with her own two hands in this movie. which – give me a fucking break. we can rape this woman multiple times on screen, but having her kill someone? too much. are you trying to show she’s better than that, because guess what, she’s not. you have her beat two people bloody for ending her career, but killing the people who torture her and assault her is too far? fuck that.

he gets rough, too rough, and dominka decides fuck this. he’s an old man, she’s a freaking prima ballerina. do you have any idea how strong she has to be? she’s violent, we know that, and so she grabs the phone off the bedside table and beats him to death with it.

you want sexualized gore, fine, here’s how you can have it: by the time assassin boy comes through the window, dominka is sitting there in her slinky black lace underwear, chest heaving, covered in the blood of her would-be rapist while his corpse lays beside her.

and it’s a big deal, and no witnesses, so she’s once again offered the same choice: death, or sparrow school. but maybe it’s a little easier for us all to swallow if:

“your father was a sparrow,” vanya says, offering her a cigarette, watching her with eyes that are hard and sorry all at once. he’ll kill her, but he won’t like it. dominka wonders if that’s supposed to be some sort of comfort.

“my father is dead,” she says. she takes the cigarette, leaning forward so he can light it for her.

he shrugs. “death comes for us all. perhaps you will be like my dear brother, and serve your country for many years, and die for it, in a humiliating and painful way. perhaps you will live to a ripe old age, and die in your bed, in a humiliating and painful way.”

“perhaps i will die today, in a humiliating and painful way,” dominka finishes.

“you don’t have to,” he says, “there’s sparrow school. it didn’t break your father. i don’t think it will break you.”

there’s a third option. he could save her. but he won’t, he won’t stick his neck out for hers, not for free. she doesn’t want to die today. “alright,” she says, “i will be a sparrow.”

and sparrow school goes much the same – she’s still too smart, and stubborn. she refuses to strip and squirms at all the sex training. and she was almost raped, was assaulted, and that’s traumatic enough. but he didn’t get inside her before she killed him, and she clings to that, hardens herself around that.

so when her fellow student tries to rape her in the shower, she beats him off just the same way. but it’s not because of ptsd, its not her being retraumatized all over again.

it’s her drawing her line in the sand.

in sparrow school, in her missions, she will have to let men and women touch her. her body doesn’t belong to her, it belongs to the state. and she’ll do what she has to do – she’ll lie, she’ll kill, she’ll get on her knees and use her hands, her mouth, she’ll bend over and take it in the ass, but not this.

her pussy is belongs to her alone. they can take everything else, but not this. she wouldn’t let that old man have it, and she won’t let her country have it.

this attempted rape isn’t her breaking. it’s her figuring out where she stands, what her line is. they can kill her, but they can’t take this from her, she’ll kill herself first.

that’s when dominka flips, when she goes from good to great. her teacher tells her that she’s selfish, and to give her would-be rapist what he wants. she does the same thing as the movie, stripping and spreading her legs in front of the class and telling her almost rapist to fuck her, sneering and bored, and he can’t get it up, because he didn’t want sex, he wanted control, and she wasn’t going to let him have it.

now that she knows what she won’t give up, the rest of it is on the table, she doesn’t flinch or squirm away from it anymore. and her teacher is disapproving, because she won’t let anyone fuck her, gets around it while still succeeding, but this is how dominka survives, how she becomes the best.

she gets pulled out, and told to take this mission, to get the american cia operative nate nash to trust her and get him to tell her the name of the mole, of the traitor in their ranks. her uncle takes her to dinner, the same place he took her as a child, and says, “you don’t seem broken.”

“are you disappointed?” she asks, and she sips at her tea to hide her smile when he orders two of everything, just like when she was a little girl.

she’s not a little girl anymore, and her uncle is a horrible person. she wishes that meant she wasn’t fond of him, but it doesn’t.

“on the contrary,” he says, “i thought you would be well suited to this work. you’re good at it.”

“i’m good at everything,” she answers, because it’s true. she wanted to become a prima ballerina, so she did. she decided to become a sparrow, and so she did. less than a fifth of class is still there. still alive. the fact that it wasn’t her choice sours it a little, but not much. her circumstances forced her there, but her accomplishments got her here, out of sparrow school and into the her favorite restaurant as a child.

he tells her find the mole, and she’s free, she’ll have paid her debt to the state, and he’ll see to it that she and her mother will be taken care of, and she won’t have to work for them again, if she doesn’t want to.

he’s lying. dominika doesn’t want to do this work, but she doesn’t want a lot of things, so she smiles and nods, and wonders if there’s any way out of this life besides death.

so things go as they go, she meets nate nash, and he clocks her immediately, figures out who and what she is in five minutes, because he’s just that good. and dominka plays her game, with her uncle, with her sparrow roommate, with everyone.

she tries to play it with him, but it doesn’t work. nate cares about his mole, cares about people, cares about her. you can’t con an honest man, and she wonders how an honest man got himself tangled up in this work. it can’t be good for him.

so the only con left to her is not to have one, to be honest and open and see what he does.

in the movie, she asks if she can trust him, and then fucks him. it’s supposed to show how he’s healed her trauma, how all dominika needed to get over her rape was a good man, was to fall in love. but that’s bullshit, that’s not how trauma works.

but dominika wasn’t raped here. here, she’s asserted again and again that she doesn’t fuck, not like that, that it’s the one thing she won’t do. so when she has sex with nate, when she straddles him and kisses him and she’s the one who puts him inside her, it’s not about trauma. it’s about trust, and when we see her have sex with nate, we know she likes him, trusts him, as a person and not an agent. because dominka the agent doesn’t give her pussy away. but dominka the person is a person, who fucks people she likes, who likes sex on her terms, when it’s with someone she likes and trusts, and that’s nate.

you’re not stuck comparing her and nate to her and her rapist. you just get to appreciate the fact that dominika for the first time in maybe this whole movie is doing what she wants, is finding joy in something, in someone.

she plays the americans, and the russians, plays them all. it goes almost the same, except: when assassin boy kills her sparrow roommate, she doesn’t let him grab her, she flips him on his back holds a knife to his throat and says to go, that she’ll clean up his mess. we don’t have to see dominika forced over a naked woman in a bath of her own blood and a bag over her head. the american traitor chief of staff that dominika helps the americans find doesn’t get run over by a truck and killed thirty seconds later, because what’s the point of that, what did that achieve? nothing, it was just one more dead woman on screen. instead she goes home and is taken into custody, where she’ll be put on trial for her crimes.

the russians know someone betrayed them, and they think it’s dominika. she endures the torture, refuses to give in, and is released and sent back to find the name of the mole. she sleeps with nate again, because she wants to, and then the assassin boy comes in and tortures him, and she helps. and for a moment we wonder if we got everything wrong, if she is loyal to the russians, if she decided that all of her belonged to them. but she isn’t, and didn’t, and she kills assassin boy instead of knocking him out and contacts the embassy so her and nate are taken to the hospital.

so we end up in the same place, with the general we’ve seen throughout this movie looking at her and saying, “i’m the mole. i’m his source. you can turn me in and leave, run away from this life. or you can turn me in, and take my place. no one will doubt you, you’ll be able to do so much good.”

and she watches him with her serious eyes and serious mouth. he tells her of how he turned after they refused to let an American doctor saver his wife, after he saw how retched and awful this country was. she looks at him for a long moment, and says, “russia is good. we have the best ballet, and alcohol. my mother is a good woman, and she is russian. there are many good russians. you betray them all when you betray the government.”

his heart sinks. “they are not good people.”

and because this is an interesting movie about complicated people, and not blatant cold war era anti-russia propaganda, she laughs. “you think american government is made of good people? it has good people. it has bad people. so does ours. we are not so different. you are just angry. russian government killed your wife, so you want to kill it.”

“so you’ll turn me and go live a quiet life, i suppose,” he says. he thought he knew her. he was wrong. he can’t be too upset at that – she’s the best of them, after all.

“no,” she answers, “i am angry too. i will help the americans. i will take your place. americans like to think they are better, so they try to be, sometimes. russians know what we are, and do not hide from it. i will help. i will take your place. but i won’t do it for russia, or for america. i’ll do it for me.”

and she does. except, just like in the movie, my favorite part of it, she doesn’t turn the general in. instead she has carefully framed her uncle, always her plan from the beginning. she didn’t want to find the mole. she wanted to make it look like her uncle was the mole. he could have saved her, and instead he damned her.

“are you proud of me?” she asks, as they’re walking away from each other, her to the russians and he to the americans. and he can’t help but smile at her. because he’s twisted, and maybe she wasn’t before, but she is now.

her people shoot him before he can make it to the americans, and she doesn’t bother to turn around and look at him, she just runs.

she rises in rank, in esteem, she turned in her precious uncle, of course she can be trusted. she and the general are good friends, and it isn’t strange at all, both of them so trusted and powerful.

she thinks of nate often. it’s too dangerous for her to see him, it’s too much to risk. but they manage coded messages sometimes, and she daydreams of a world where she can have him, where they will live long lives and die together, in a way that’s neither painful nor humiliating.

it’s a pipe dream, but she’s done impossible things before. she doesn’t see why she can’t to them again.

#red sparrow #fandom ficcery #i gloss over a lot because this movie was so long #the thing is if you take out the rape and sexualized violence #it's a pretty good movie. #it's just that's most of movie so it's hard to do that #also the blatant america is perfect and russians are evil #was weridly uncomfortable #like pls dont do that #i know a big part of this movie is dominika being beaten down #but tbh i just wanted the girl to have a little agency #a little less trauma #so here we are i guess

[mx-bebe31-blog]

Jung Inc.

Jung Inc.

(Y/n) thought that her worst nightmare was over after the murder of her aunt, Hayoung. However, that is far from true now that Jung Hoseok has escaped prison. The accused now has five of the most intimate people to his case strapped in chains, demanding he be proven innocent before it’s too late.

Warnings: Mentions of murder & captivity. Future themes of blood, gore, and (possible) MCD

Chapter One

“Congratulations, you lucky five! I have hand selected each of you to help me kickstart my business into gear!”

I was shaking. My hands were bound in bracelet like chains that were connected to a desk. I could already feel my back sticking to the leather of an office chair from the cold sweat that formed while I was out. If I focused, I could remember what happened, but right now I was becoming parched at just looking at the man in front of the room. Even he was sweating through his plain white button up.

“Now.” His hands clapped together and I jumped. “I will give you each one box of documents to get started. All you have to do is transcribe them, sort them, and notify me when you’re done. However slackers will not be tolerated. I wanted only the best of the best!”

I gulped down a thick glob of my own saliva as he rolled a cart around. He slammed a file box in front of each of us. I sat at a corner, with someone across from me, and with someone next to me. I noticed how the man with sleek maroon hair only tried to smile and be upbeat. It made it even more unnerving in this situation.

He cleared his throat as he calmly walked back up to the front. He rolled the cart behind him and it was obnoxiously noisy as the wheels rattled.

“I’ll introduce myself. My name is Jung Hoseok. I’m the CEO, and you’re here to help me, okay? Just help me, and nobody will get hurt. I’ll provide you enough food and breaks - don’t worry. I’ll come back when lunch is ready, okay? It’s already past eight am, so let’s get to work!”

I watched as a boy jolted in his seat as Hoseok smacked the leather of the chair with cheer. We all seemed a little stiffened from this sudden action. We sat rigid and still as Hoseok slowly began to walk out of the room, the noisy cart following like a little pet. We were too afraid to say anything.

The heavy duty door shut with two clicks - locked. We were locked inside a single room, trapped to the desk with sturdy chains. We had a box by our stations, and there were computer screens staring us into our soul. I looked around to my blue-hued companions, and all of our eyes met as we silently tried to figure out what was going on.

We had one thing in common, however. We all knew who Jung Hoseok was.

“Where are we?” Someone’s voice croaked out. I looked to my left to see the only person on my side of the desk. The other three were sat on the opposite side. “What is happening?” Chains started to rattle as people began to haphazardly pull at them, testing their strength.

There was a loud gulp before a deeper voice rang out in the room, “It’s set up like an office. But...Jung Hoseok…”

Even sitting diagonal from the man who just spoke, I recognized him without shame. He had black rimmed glasses and clean cut hair. Even his voice exuded the amount of intelligence he had in his brain. He was a lawyer - one for prosecutions. He didn’t like to defend criminals, even if defense attorneys got more money.

“Kim Namjoon.” I spoke up in a shaky voice. I swallowed as I gained his attention. “Y-You’re the lawyer from the trial.”

His eyes could see me from over the computer, and there was a twinkle of sorrow in his eyes.

“Yes. That’s right. Who are you?”

I shook my head, “I’m..” I gulped as I looked down at my untouched keyboard. “(Y/n) (L/n).”

I squeezed my eyes shut at the sudden silence that took everyone’s breath away.

“I’m sorry…” Namjoon began, but I shook my head, wiping under my eyes as I looked up.

“No, it’s...I’m just thankful, I guess...that you were able to put him away, but --” I choked up as I looked towards the door.

How did Jung Hoseok get out of prison?

“No way…” Someone mumbled. As I cleared my vision of unfallen tears, I could see black hair. I calmed down as I tried to see if there was a connection. So far I only recognized Namjoon. “First the lawyer, then the victim? Aish...now it’s me.”

The man’s black hair bounced as his head hit the back of the chair.

“And who are you, exactly? We don’t exactly have times to be playing mystery games with each other. Let’s introduce ourselves properly - yes, I am Kim Namjoon, the prosecution’s lawyer in the case of the Republic of South Korea v. Jung Hoseok. And that over there is (Y/n) (L/n), niece of Kim Ha-young.”

Even now, when in such a corrupt and deadly situation, Kim Namjoon was still acting like a lawyer. Maybe he had been at it so long it developed into his personality. But maybe, his antics could get us somewhere and really help us.

“Okay, okay, Mr. Lawyer, let’s not be cool right now, we’re all scared. I’m Park Jimin. I was one of the lead journalists on the case - if you could even say that. There were at least a hundred of us trying to get our hands on it.”

“Park Jimin?” Namjoon suddenly scoffed, the blue light flickering off his glasses as he turned his head in disbelief. “The same who released those disrespectful pictures of the crime scene just to get more media coverage? How do you feel now that one of the victims are sitting in the same room, ah?”

Jimin sputtered as his chains pulled taut. He leaned over the computer screen and grabbed my attention with a look of open shock.

“Yah! That wasn’t me - it was the head corporate Lee Hye-Jin! He said we would all get bonuses if we got him those kinds of pictures! But it wasn’t me, I just benefitted from it. I swear - “

“Be quiet! Do you want that psycho to come back?! Sit down.” The boy with fluffy tan hair beside Jimin suddenly ticked. Jimin gave me an open mouthed expression of pity before plopping back down in the chair. My eyes were averted to the new stranger, who retained his looks, even after being through a struggle.

“My name is Kim Taehyung. I was an...old coworker of Hoseok. I don’t know why I’m here - I couldn’t even bear to follow the case. I just heard he was in prison and I was done with it.”

“What job were you coworkers with him?” Namjoon immediately leaned over to ask across the length of the desk. They were at total opposite ends of each other, speaking quietly as to not arise more suspicion.

Taehyung held up his head with his fingers as he sighed. He looked like he couldn’t be bothered at the moment, and was picking at the box before him.

“The current job he had when he committed the murder. His cubicle was right next to mine. I…”

I could see Taehyung’s expression flex as he looked down at the ground, completely away from Namjoon. Maybe I thought it was too tough for him to believe, but Namjoon saw more.

“Tell us everything, Taehyung. Do you want to get out of this?”

Taehyung only glared as he pulled on his chains as a threat. He leaned closer to Jimin to intimidate Namjoon.

“We get out of this if we play by his rules. He’s a very intricate man who likes his things in a particular order, so we should all just shut up and listen, and we’ll be fine.”

“We might.” Namjoon mused, but his tone turned dark, “But why would he let us go? He escaped prison - for what? What are we doing here and why are we the ones sitting at these desks? Sure, he might want revenge on me for putting him in prison. But why kidnap you, (Y/n), or a journalist like Jimin? Yah, who are you over there? Are you connected to this, too?”

Namjoon looked over to the man that sat next to me. He too, wore black hair, but in a different style than Jimin’s. He seemed to be the most scared in here, other than me, who couldn’t stop trembling at the very idea of Hoseok.

“I-I’m Kim Seokjin...I was Hoseok’s neighbor before...all of this. I was just about to move to my new address next week. I couldn’t stay there, next to a house where a killer lived. God, I don’t know why I’m here...He liked me, I thought he liked me, so I don’t...understand…”

Me and Seokjin were definitely in the same boat. Our voices couldn’t stabilize, we both were parched, and we both kept staring at the boxes in front of us, wondering what all of this meant.

Namjoon sighed as we all listened to Seokjin’s quivering breathes.

“At least we know that we’re all connected somehow...More so than others. It could be a coincidence. Jimin was just one of the many reporters, Taehyung was one of the many coworkers…(Y/n) was one of the live victims...It doesn’t seem to be all that random, though.”

“Then, then, then what’s with this bullshit? Huh? Boxes…” Taehyung mumbled to himself, straightening his posture as he began to dig through the messy files in his box. He took one out and rifled through it. The sudden ruffling of paper stopped as his breath hitched.

“What is it? Anything useful?” Namjoon questioned as he too took out a cramped file, about to open it when Taehyung spoke again.

“Police files. Like...official arrest reports.” Taehyung whispered as he softly began to page through the papers more intricately.

“No shit? Jesus…” Jimin sighed as he took one out as well, “What does he want us to do with all of these? I have report logs on evidence, but...these are all from different cases.”

The room went silent as I looked over to Seokjin. He was rigid in his chair, sweat creasing his bangs to his face as he shut his eyes. The good thing was that he wasn’t shaking anymore. His adam’s apple bobbed every time he swallowed, and his fingers pushed into the arms of his office chair.

As much as I didn’t want to, I took a file and whirred my computer to life. There was only one program installed on the blue screen, and it was Google Docs.

_______________________

Rip me for posting a BTS story on a Monsta X blog,,,, but I also really like what I did for it. Please lmk if you want to see Chapter Two! (I already have it done oml)

#bts fanfic #bts #bts j-hope #namjoon #kpop fanfic #thriller #horror #mystery #chapter one #jung inc #mx-bebe31 #kpop

[despairingvacation]

EXECUTION [6]: PATRICIA WATSON

The debate over who the mastermind could be raged on for some time. With all of the clues the survivors found, they tried to pinpoint who fits every clue. It had to be one of them! As they got to the last clue, Peacock was already suspected, but they were stuck on one thing: the glasses. How could that link to her?

“Oh, that’s easy!”

The tween speaks up, and all eyes were on her. Leaning forward on the podium, she smiles, saying, "It's because I got a fuckton of eyes, idiots. Y'done playing detective yet?"

Shock fell over the room. Even as they tried to calm her, saying they weren’t necessarily accusing her, she laughed. “I'm just fuckin' bored of waiting fer you all to figure out the obvious! It is me, bastards!”

Survivors and viewers alike almost couldn’t fathom it. Peacock? The mastermind? Many wanted to deny that was true, but donned in her new outfit, she can’t help but continue to keep that smug grin plastered on her face. Already asked to explain, she keeps leaning on her podium, a childlike quality now more apparent in her true persona. Her explanation begins:

Even as a child, she’s felt different from the other kids in her class. Shitty childhood aside, even the love everyone had shown her didn’t bring her comfort. Patricia Watson had a hard time feeling anything besides one thing and one thing alone: despair. It was her one way of taking control over a life that didn’t allow her to make her own decisions--in this killing game, she was the queen, and everyone was at her mercy, even if they didn’t realize it.

Hope’s Peak was boring as is. It was time to have a little fun at everyone’s expense.

Bendy, she says, was the easiest to convince to help her out. All she had to do was promise him fame and fortune, and he was in the palm of her hand. His obsession with her, however, was excessive, and the way she speaks illustrates just how disgusted she was with it all. It was all an act, she insists, saying she didn’t feel much for anyone on the island. Why would she? She’s going to have them all killed anyway, so what’s the use with getting attached?

One person, however, stood out in her explanation: Marie.

All Patricia wanted in her life was the chance to kill her best friend, but that was taken from her. It filled her with despair, sure, but it definitely wasn’t the same.

Angered by the state of things thus far, Akihiko punches her in the face. Patricia only grins, asking him to do it again. He backs down. Being promptly disowned by Totoko, she can hear Tohru say he doesn’t hold anything against her, but she staunchly ignores it. She isn’t sure what to make of that, so not acknowledging it is for the best.

Finally, she reveals one last key bit of information: she only acted accordingly with how she thought the audience would like it. The way she responded to people, the amount of emotions she showed, expressing anger and sadness at the right times… It was exactly what the viewers wanted, and they ate that shit up. She seems smug when she talks about, actually, much to the anger of the others. If she hadn’t been the cause behind everyone’s deaths, some might even call her manner of speaking cute! The cuteness is gradually replaced by confidence, seemingly not regretting a thing she had done.

Even as she explains how the audience projects on everyone that’s been involved, she’s cheerful when she mentions how she didn’t have to push anyone to develop. It was their own doing, and it was pretty entertaining!

"You know what’s better, though?"

Silence falls over the room. The mastermind is pausing for dramatic effect, and surprisingly, nobody interrupts.

"A plot twist no one saw coming. This is it! Me, the beloved comic relief, one of the fan favorites, was actually the showrunner the entire time! Boy, I bet people seeing this are screaming right now! I’d love to be able to hear it.”

Nobody else seems as amused as she does. The tween frowns, a bit disappointed. This wasn’t unexpected, but she wishes they were as easy to force into despair as Bendy was. Guess he was the traitor for a reason, eh folks?

As a vote is called, she is unsurprisingly voted the mastermind. That part wasn’t an act, at least! Peacock, Ultimate Despair, the mastermind behind the whole killing game, has been revealed to a worldwide audience, and she couldn’t be happier with the results. The grin that’s been on her face refuses to leave, and she clasps her hands, having one last thing to say:

“Well, y’know how the sayin’ goes: That’s all, folks!”

> GAME OVER

> PATRICIA WATSON HAS BEEN FOUND GUILTY.

She isn’t scared. In fact, she was prepared for this the entire time. Instead of being dragged to her execution, Peacock smiles, bowing and waving before her surviving classmates before walking to her execution.

It’s as if she’s been prepared for this the entire time. Is she… Looking forward to this? Why does she seem so smug?

> TIME FOR THE MASTERMIND’S ULTRA DESPAIR-INDUCING PUNISHMENT!

TW: Body horror, blood, gore, fire, car crashes, implied drowning and impalement, guns, knives, unsanitary, mentions of dismemberment

As everyone stands silently, they notice a projector--which had been present in the trial room all this time, funnily enough--springing to life, displaying a black & white scene before them. Jolly, happy music plays in the background, and nothing about the spectacle seems real. It’s like some poor rubber hose animator painstakingly drew this scene from scratch, and boy is Patricia living it up!

It’s fairly reminiscent of Bendy’s execution: a cartoonized Peacock exists in a toon world, her dark eyes seeming more natural in this setting than in real life. However, what seems extra familiar about this area is… She’s on a talk show? Sitting on a couch, she seems to be talking merrily with a cartoon version of Goro Akechi, who sits at the typical talk show host desk, stained with blood. The pink on his black and white attire really stands out, actually.

Smiling, Goro pushes a button, strapping Peacock to the couch she’s been talking on, but she doesn’t seem bothered. As the camera pans away from the setup (revealing it’s actually in an aquarium tank), pink fluid can be seen filling the tank from the bottom up. Goro doesn’t seem bothered in the least, looking quite amused as the area begins to fill with blood. The mastermind grins, and the footage immediately cuts away to another scene.

Standing on another stage, Peacock stands besides an impaled Hibiki Wataru, looking a little worse for wear. The tween, however, still seems as intact as ever, and possibly even more excited than before. Wataru begins to attach familiar restraints to the girl’s body, but nothing about it is forced--it’s as if he wants to do this to her. As she watches the contraption hang precariously above her, the magician pays no mind to the timer counting down before them, insisting on pulling the lever as soon as he’s able to. The girl’s laugh can be heard right before it comes crashing down onto her, and again the footage skips to something different.

Although dressed more extravagantly than the other prisoners, Peacock stands idly in her jail cell, swaying back and forth as she waits for the horn to sound. Even while restrained to a ball and chain, the mastermind has a slight sway in her step, as if she’s manipulated the ball enough to not tie her down. It’s a cartoon, remember? Jeez, keep up! Or maybe Tougou Hajime should? He’s not trailing too far behind her, bullet holes and stab wounds covering his entire body while holding a knife in his only attached arm. The thrill of the chase is one thing, but seeing reanimated cartoon versions of her classmates holding guns in her direction? That’s just absolutely despair inducing!

Like the other scenes, of course, it cuts away right before one of them gets to her. It’s difficult to tell if Tougou got to her or if one of her classmates did first.

Tied to a firetruck ladder, Peacock’s being driven by none other than Clive Dove himself! He looks worse for wear, burn scars and his half dead self apparent even in this Toontown setting. A cartoon version of Hope’s Peak is already burning to the ground, various helpless nameless students running from it. Is the mastermind taking any of this seriously? No, not really. It’s hard to tell if she even catches on fire or not considering this short clip skips right before the truck makes an impact.

Now, the scene doesn’t seem as familiar--unlike the other scenes, this one is more realistic and in color. With her feet on the dashboard, Peacock leans back in the passenger seat, grinning deviously as a half melted Bendy is taking the wheel in what appears to be the mastermind’s car. Speeding down route 66, her grin only grows wider, yelling at Bendy to “go faster!” every so often. She sits up, practically standing her seat as soon as the speedometer is well over 100 mph. They’re approaching something in the distance, and Peacock, as confident as ever, lights one last cigar as the upcoming obstacle gets closer and closer.

It appears to be a brick wall, but with one thing off about it: a comical black hole placed, as if Bugs Bunny himself placed it. Unbothered, she simple keeps standing in her seat, looking toward the hole with determination in her sick, sick eyes. Is she trying to escape!?

Yes.

She was.

It’s not until they’re mere seconds from collision does she realize it’s painted on.

If the survivors look hard enough, they can see slight fear in her eyes. Real, genuine fear. This isn’t a cartoon anymore, Patricia.

Right as the car collides with the wall, a loud, sickening splat is heard. Unlike the other times, the film reel doesn’t cut away, revealing a smashed car, ink, and a hell of a lot of blood. It’s hard to tell where Peacock even is anymore amidst the wreckage, but one thing can be said for sure: the mastermind is officially dead, and this nightmare of a killing game is over.

Finally, the presentation stops. A soft click can be heard behind Peacock’s podium, and if anyone goes to investigate, they’ll find a boat engine.

4/18 REMAIN....

#chapter 6 #execution #execution [6] #dv update #HOOOOOOO #ITS OVER #DV'S OVER #dv1

[magiclaud]

Inktober 2: Glitch Gore

a/n: I really liked this prompt because it gave me a lot of free room to interpret the concept. I was listening to the IB soundtrack when I wrote this, by the way...

*

« Just breath, Arthur. No matter what, you will be okay. »

Arthur doesn’t turn when his mother pokes his shoulder. He is concentrated on the opposite side, counting to ten as he inhales air. The ventilation of the chamber is awful, and the smoking nearby makes him think he’s going to puke. If he could, Arthur would close his eyes, letting his tired body rest. However, Arthur is aware it is not an option. And God only knows what kind of scene he’d find when he closes his eyes.

Arthur wants to lock himself in his room.There’s too many noises here, too many people. The walls are asphyxiating, trapping him more and more until Arthur feels like a bloody prey. He shudders when his mother touches him again and is obliged to turn and read his mother’s impassive expression.

Disappointment.

She urges him not to be like this, not to act like this, she tells him they’ve talked about this and that and Arthur gathers all the control he has left to avoid slapping her in front of everyone in the room. 

Come on, Arthur, smile, she says. It’s your birthday, you’re an adult now, she tells him. And so she guides him to his fate.

As they step through the crowd of people, politely greeting every guest and every servant, Arthur feels a drop of water fall on his shoulder. He tells her mother about this while looking at the ceiling for leaks, but Elizabeth Kirkland brushes him off. Don’t think about it, she tells him, it doesn’t matter.

Soon enough, they find his fiancé amicably chatting with a few guests. They haven’t mated yet, so every time they meet Arthur has to endure accustoming himself to the smell. The alpha is chewing snails, and Arthur shivers as he can hear the shell break out and the dull cries of the poor being.

Arthur stares quietly as the alpha greets his mother. He knows he should pay attention but, as another drop lays on his tux, Arthur is inclined to look at the ceiling again.

“Oh, Francis, thank you for coming. I hope you had a safe trip.”

“Thank you for worrying, madame. I’m glad to be here too.”

“Arthur is really happy to see you. I’m sure this will become a special day for both of you.”

“Indeed it will,” Arthur is still looking for the leak when Francis grasps his hand. Arthur is forced to open it when he notices the remaining of the snail in Francis’ teeth. “Right, mon cher?”

Arthur is unsure of what the question was. He can’t sense anything more than Francis’ breath. He smells like sulphur, and his nails are digging into Arthur’s skin like daggers.

«Breath. Just breath, Arthur. »

“Is it raining?” Arthur asks while drops keep falling on his head. His mother laughs as if it were a joke.

“Of course not, dearest. The sun is shining, can’t you see?” But Arthur doesn’t see the blinding sun. Instead, he sees red, like the red  that keep staining Arthur’s clothes.

“Are you feeling well?” Francis is not Francis anymore. Now he has the head of a donkey, and he slurs his words like an inebriated man.

“Of course he is. Arthur is just feeling a little dizzy, as he didn’t expect you to arrive so soon. And it is fully known how young omegas react when they fancy someone.”

“Ah, so that is it. You want to mate me, don’t you, my ange? Your kind is so virtuous, they don’t choose who rules over them, their senses do,” his hand caresses Arthur’s neck, and tightens his grip until Arthur is sure he’ll die this instant.

Arthur wants to scream, but he feels the ants sew his mouth, and the drops of blood flooding the room. When Arthur blinks, he is underwater. And, when he blinks again, he is confined inside the blue ice.

Arthur’s not in the dining room anymore. Now he’s at a safe place, in the room where no one enters without invitation. Arthur hears someone opening the faucet of his bathroom and sees a shadow. And now it’s gone.

“My lord,” says his butler, once he leaves the bathroom. “Your bath is ready.”

Arthur can’t understand. However, he reasons, he doesn’t need to. As Arthur doesn’t have legs anymore he has to crawl to the butler. When Arthur feels the room is shaking, he hugs the man’s legs.

“Oh, my lord,”  Arthur doesn’t know if he pities him. “Do not worry anymore. Your family has already taken care of all the matters,” he cups Arthur’s chin. Arthur leans onto it. The shadows are behind the butler, and Arthur wishes he was worthy of calling the butler’s name. However, Arthur can do nothing other than stare.

“Your heat is approaching,” Alfred says. “A particular wave hit you so hard you couldn’t stand it anymore. Today is also the day you reach adulthood, so the feelings were only intensified. You became so stressed that to lay down is what you needed. But don’t you worry, my lord. A bath will soothe you,” Arthur marvels at how a simple butler can see through his thoughts, but the feeling is soon broken when Arthur feels two, three, four hands massaging his skin, then pushing him away from Alfred. Arthur can’t help to scream and cry, but when he cries he feels lizards falling from his eyes and he is careful not to sob and swallow them.

“My lord, please, look at me,” but when Arthur looks he only sees a beast. “They’re here again, aren’t they?”

Arthur likes Alfred because Alfred is the only adult in the Kirkland household that seems to believe him when he tells him what he sees.

“France is full of good people. I’m sure someone will help you there,” Alfred doesn’t really mean it. The butler is trying to distract Arthur, and Arthur would like to play the game too, but he shrieks in horror when he sees Alfred’s blue eyes slowly melting.

Alfred holds him closer, and Arthur feels like a child again. “Someone will help you,” Alfred repeats. But they both know better.

They know Arthur is broken, Arthur has always been broken. They know no doctor can fathom why, and they both know his parents want him away so they can finally be in peace.

They know that Francis won’t be aware of Arthur’s character when he deflowers him. They know Arthur needs to mate before Francis finds out the truth about who he is, about what he sees.

They know no one will care for Arthur once they see what’s wrong. They know he’ll be locked up, in a tower perhaps, so he can fight his demons without bothering anyone, or that maybe he’ll be exorcised, in the hopes he may become a regular omega.

They know they won’t see the other ever again, and so Arthur has the privilege to look at his butler for the last time before he blinks again and he sees nothing but a room full of rats.

#usuk #aph #aph england #aph america #omegaverse #inktober #goretober #glitch gore

[surveysonfleek]

321.

you ever played “call of duty”? did you like it? are you into those types of video games at all?   i think i have once. not my sorta game.

do you like to cook for people, or do you order to be cooked for? has anyone ever told you that you were a good cook? i like to cook but hardly have any time. so i just cook whatever’s at home or go out to eat.

do you have any clocks in your house that chime when the hour changes? do those types of clocks annoy you?   no they’d annoy the hell out of me.

what is your usual hair style? do you tend to wear the same style every day, or do you switch it up a lot?   i usually wear my hair down either curly or straight.

have you had the same doctor pretty much your whole life, or have you went to a bunch of different ones over the years? have you ever been to the doctor thinking something was horribly wrong with you, but it turned out to be something minor?   tbh i’ve had different doctors throughout my life but i’ve stuck to the same practice for years now. hmm i only go to the doctors if something feel wrong and most of the time i’m right.

are there any stores you feel uncomfortable going into (ex: if you dress girly, do you feel uncomfortable going into hot topic)? are there any stores that you refuse, or just never go in to?   no i don’t care at all. if i need to buy something in a certain store i’ll go in there however i’m dressed.

do you look in mirrors a lot, or do you try to avoid them? how many mirrors are in your house?   i don’t seek to look at mirrors but if one is around i’ll just check my face, teeth etc.

what do you think is the greatest invention of all time? why? are there any inventions you wish had never been made?   nearly everything in modern society. cars, planes, light, electricity, phones, the internet etc.

are you proud of yourself? do you feel that you’ve accomplished (or will accomplish) the things you want in your life? what other person are you the most proud of and why?   i’m not that proud of myself but i have to remind myself i’ve made quite a few achievements. i just know i can do better.

did you ever have a terrible roommate? what did they do that bothered you so much? no, i still live at home. when i move out it’ll be with my husband to be surely.

if someone has a problem with something you’ve done, do you prefer they confront you directly? why or why not? when you’re the one who needs to tell someone about a problem, what’s your method of doing so? yes i prefer they come to me directly. i would do the same too. it doesn’t have to be confrontational, we’re all adults so working things out in a professional manner is all that needs to be done.

do you like the color gray?   yes.

is it possible to love someone if you don’t love yourself? yes.

do you believe happiness can exist without sadness? not really.

what hospital in your area would you most recommend for good treatment?   the one closest to me? idk.

who is the best person you’ve ever “met” online? my boyfriend. technically i first made contact with him online even though most of my friends went to his school.

who is the most versatile actor ever?   idk, not much of a movie buff. 

do you ever nap and wake up and forget what day it is?   hell yeah.

what was your maternal grandmother’s first name? angelina.

what was the last video message you received on your phone?   probably a snap?

would you kiss someone you didn’t have feelings for? if i were single.

what would your dream engagement ring look like? no idea. i haven’t looked properly.

is someone hurting you mentally at the moment? nah.

do you feel like no one understands you?   sometimes.

have you ever attempted to drown yourself? nope.

would you rather deal with all your emotions at once, or none at all?   all at once but i need to be alone in my own space.

what’s the best sex scene in a movie you’ve ever seen?   no idea.

is pornography evil or are you neutral about it? i’m neutral. it’s not something i watch. i just don’t like how it creates an unrealistic expectation of sex.

do you prefer to be monogamous, or are you more a casual dater or swinger? monogamous.

does your pet wear a collar? yeah.

what is your favorite song in “the sound of music”?   16 going on 17. is that what it’s called?

what would you do if your mom/dad saw a hickey on you? idk if they’d say anything.

you’ve just had an argument with the guy you like, and you walk away. do you want them to leave you alone?   it depends what the argument is about. if i say ‘leave me alone’, it’s for real though.

have you ever read any self-help books?   nah.

do you thank the bus driver? yes.

have you ever had your heart broken?   no.

when was the last time you flirted? haha idk how to flirt anymore. but probably my boyfriend.

are good-byes easy or hard for you? depends how long until i’ll see them.

whatcha listening to? nothing.

what do you feel about our president? my country is run by a prime minister.

do you remember the song, blue (da ba dee) by eiffel 65? yep.

if you told someone how far have you have gone with the opposite sex, how would others view you? normal, i guess?

do you have a secret that you’ve never told ANYONE? yeah probably. nothing that’s actually a secret but there’s things about me no one knows. like how i fill out surveys here, for example.

would you care if your last ex fell in love with someone else? no.

what’s something you really want right now, be honest?   sleep.

were your parents married when they had you? yes.

are they married now? technically yes but they’re separated.

would you marry someone 30 years older than you if they had millions? nah. it’s too much of a hassle to be a gold digger.

how long were employed at your last job? my last job about 4 years.

if you found out you were pregnant who would you tell first? my boyfriend.

what did you do when you hung out with the last person you kissed?   had dinner, went out, went back to my place, hooked up.

do you prefer online classes or real classes?   real. i’d have no motivation to do online courses.

do you like documentaries? have you ever watched one and find it boring? i like them, i’m just picky on which ones to watch.

if you had to choose, would you rather be an alcoholic or pothead?   er... neither tbh. 

do you hate your ex?   no.

do you like kids?   not all kids. but yeah, sure.

are your eyes the same color as your mom’s or dad’s? yes.

do you think too much or too little?   too much.

does anyone know your facebook password? other than me, nah.

have you ever seen the last person you kissed without their shirt on?   yes.

…what about their pants? yes.

did you ever rip off a barbie doll head? no.

how many people have you slept with (sexually not actually sleeping)?   one.

do you have any sort of ongoing health problem? probably.

are you a teenager and yet want a baby?   i’m not a teen.

would you date a guy with a prince albert?   hahaha it’s not something i’d judge a guy on.

do you think you are a hick?   no.

have you ever told someone to their face that they were ugly? as a joke.

have you ever swallowed a watermelon seed?   most probably.

what would be worse - going out in public with no bra or no panties? for me, no panties.

would you ever let your child drop out of high school?   it depends on the reason. if they had a solid plan for their future and it’s the reason why they’re dropping out then i don’t mind.

honestly, do you think that inner beauty is as important as outer beauty? yes.

do you pronounce “aunt” like “awnt” or “ant”? awnt i think.

have you ever seen wayne’s world?   yeah but ages ago.

what was your favorite video game as a child? the sims.

list five things you’re currently thinking about:   how late it is, what i’m doing tomorrow, wtf i’m doing with my life, i need sleep, idk.

is the last person you kissed a virgin? no.

have you ever kissed anyone with a lip ring?   no.

what was the last video you added to your favorites on youtube? i forgot.

do you have any morbid interests? nah.

eat breakfast or skip it? i love breakfast but i always wake up too late to eat it.

favorite disney channel show? i never watched disney channel growing up.

do you believe in jesus?  well yeah, hasn’t it been proven he actually existed?

would you ever get a tattoo in a “naughty” place?   no.

are your ears gauged? no.

is there a band you like that many others dislike? which? idk. most likely idc.

do you play pokemon go?   i did when it came out last year.

are you a bad influence?   nah.

be honest. have you had any dirty thoughts today? yes.

honestly, have you ever danced naked?   no.

is smoking pot a turn off?   nah. 

have you ever scared yourself?   prob.

on facebook, do you have people listed as your siblings who aren’t really your siblings?   i think one of my friends are still listed as a sibling lol.

is it ever okay for a woman to ask out a man?   duh.

how important is it for a significant other to be good with kids? pretty important, especially if there’s potential to have kids together in the future.

when did your last relationship end? i’m still in it.

did your father go to college? yes.

do you plan on going to college?   i’ve already finished.

ever seen a burning building in person? no, just cars.

do you like gore? no.

do you own any choker/collar necklaces?   yes.

did you have a “scene” phase?   yeah but i never went all out. i’d just tease my hair during my own time and take stupid photos for myspace. never went out like that in public though.

how often do you shave your legs, if at all? why do/don’t you?   during winter hardly ever since you can’t see my leg hairs anyway. in summer maybe once a week, my leg hairs grow slowly.

are you dressing up for halloween this year?   idk yet.

were you ever obsessed with the jonas brothers? just during their camp rock phase.

do you ever feel like life is going by too fast? yes.

do you pay for your own things?   yes.

have you ever gotten in trouble on the internet?   once our internet provider sent us an email telling us to cease downloading torrents lmao. i forgot what movie it was for damn.

honestly, have you ever had lice? i don’t think so...

do you think it’s possible to be in a long relationship without having sex?   of course it’s possible.

where did you last bleed from and why?   a pimple lol.

has the last person you kissed ever seen you cry? yes.

what do you like most about making out? what it eventually leads up to.

have you ever had a guy put his hand in your shirt? yes.

what is the last thing you stapled? 

 paper.

who was your first prom date?

   i didn’t have one. we weren’t allowed to bring people from other schools so i just went with my friends.

have you ever been slapped in the face?

   no.

have you ever touched a snake?

 yes.

are you lonely? no.

do you like condoms? personally no.

are you good at editing pictures? 

 i’m not good but i know how to do it.

are you any good at public speaking? 
   not good, not bad.

would you have kids with the last person you kissed? someday.

have you ever thought of making love in a dressing room? no, i think dressing rooms are dirty. some of them smell like feet.

do you know anyone who tries to steal everyone’s boyfriend?   no.

do you appreciate raunchy humor? sometimes.

have you ever looked up porn on the internet? yeah.

did you ever try cutting yourself? no.

do you like to tell people who you like? sure.

ever been institutionalized?   no.

ever hold a newborn animal? nope. well puppies but they were already a month old.

#survey #surveys #quiz #bored #questions