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after-witch · 2 months

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Damn Your Eyes [Chapter One] [Yandere Ren Hana x Reader]

Title: Damn Your Eyes [Chapter One: The Last Day] [Yandere Ren Hana x Reader]

Synopsis: Years ago, you were the captive of a serial killer named Strade. And you weren't the only one he kept. After Strade was killed by one of his victims, you ran away--and now your past is finally catching up with you. Chapter one is set during Boyfriend to Death.

Word count: 6352

Chapter notes: Yandere, kidnapped reader, past noncon, graphic violence, descriptions of blood, violence and gore, descriptions of death (not reader)

AO3 LINK

She was crying again. Well, no wonder. There were holes in her feet, dotting the top of her thighs. Blood had dribbled down from the gored holes in her flesh like little streams, then dried out.

The thin, wavy dried out trickles made you think, abruptly, of unfettered period blood, then of Carrie by Stephen King. The scene in the shower, where she gets her period and freaks out. The other girls threw tampons and sticky pads at her and shrieked, chanting, bonded by a morbid commiseration of the entrance to so-called womanhood: Plug it up! Plug it up! Plug it up!

Plug it up, you thought.

But she couldn’t, even if she wanted to. Her hands were bound behind her. Did he tie them back like that so that she couldn’t try to hurt him, or because it gave him easier access to her flesh? Maybe a bit of both.

She looked uglier when she cried. Snot bubbled out of her nose and joined a dried streak of blood that went from her nose down to her chin. Her nose was probably broken, hence the blood; the flesh of it was black and blue and an awful shade of green.

One part of you longed to retrieve an ice pack from the freezer and hold it to the bruised, swollen flesh. Hush her cries. Give her an ounce of humanity that might carry her for another few hours, the way Ren once did to you.

Another part of you, the new you forged under Strade’s knife (and boots and hammers and power drill) wished she’d just die already, so you wouldn’t have to hear her cry or be standing here obediently, waiting for Strade to come back down. You were probably going to have to participate in this next stream–why else would he call you down in the middle of one of his “projects”?

Unless he was lonely. But even so, he could always kill two birds with one stone. You, here to give him company; and you, here to entertain his horrid audience. And himself, above all. Himself, always.

The basement door at the top of the stairs creaked open and you heard his heavy bootsteps–thump, thump, thump–before he called out jovially.

“Are you still there, Liebling? You didn’t run off, did you?”

As if you were stupid enough to do that. You were many things now. Stressed. Afraid. Desperate. Tired. More selfish. Maybe a little bit masochistic, a trick of your brain to keep you from totally losing your mind as you were tortured. All these things and more besides, but stupid was not one of them.

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” You called back, lightening your tone. It was important not to sound too scared. Strade wanted you scared, yes, but he didn’t want you to be some obedient, squeaky little mouse. That was too boring. It was best to act as normally as you could, considering the circumstances. That seemed to please him more, at least on most days. Some days nothing you did was right and you went to bed with a swollen eye and broken fingers, eased by frozen peas that Ren snuck you from the kitchen before he went to sleep.

You’re not the only one who noticed him coming down. The woman in front of you began to tremble and sob more violently, pulling at her bound wrists. It wouldn’t do any good. It never did. How long did she have to live? How long did any of you in this house have to live?

By the time Strade made it down the stairs, her cries were practically at a fever-pitch. You didn’t want to look to see what he’d run off to fetch, but he didn’t give you a choice.

He called your name. “Come here, darling, I need your help with this.” And oh, you kept your eyes downcast until all you could see was his boots. But then it was time to look up, and you did, and no matter how many times you witnessed him preparing to torture another person, it still made your stomach roil.

He’d brought down a p[ot of boiling water, which he carefully held by the handle with both hands. Tucked underneath his armpit was the bag of frozen peas. The bag, you thought, because for as long as you’d been here, no one ever cooked them. They got passed around between you and Ren under cover of night.

Here they were, in the light of day. You suspect you wouldn’t want to re-use them after this.

“Be my Lamm and take the peas, won’t you?” The sensible part of you eyed him warily; it wouldn’t be below him to toss the pot of boiling water at you while you reached for them, just to fuck with you. But you didn’t disobey him, either. You carefully leaned over and slid the bag from underneath his armpit, and held it in your hand.

He smiled. Grinned, really, which was a bad sign for the sobbing woman tied to the pole. His good moods and bad moods were both equally shitty, but in your unfortunately well-experienced opinion, it was his good moods that produced the most painful scenarios.

“Now!” He crouched down in front of the crying woman and grabbed her chin. She shrieked and tried to jerk her face away, but he held her tight. “I’m sure your wounds are sore, aren’t they?” She sobbed out something–meaningless pleading that you’d long since lost the ability to discern–and he tsked.

“Oh, poor thing. I know just what might help!” He snapped his fingers and looked back at you. “My lovely friend here will give you some ice to help you feel better. Won’t you?” He grinned wider and you nodded, feeling both scared and numb in a confusingly equal measure, as you crouched down next to him.

She yelped when you placed the frozen bag on a group of puncture wounds on her thigh, but you held it fast. It probably hurt more than it soothed. An icy bag right up against wounded skin didn’t sound pleasant. But maybe it would numb it a little. That might be better than nothing.

“Perfect! Now…” He reached over and picked up the steaming pot of water, still bubbling from its boil on the stove. “Hold still, my Lamm… wouldn’t want to splash you.”

It was so strange, the way that your time with Strade had made it possible for you to actually keep your hand there, despite the fact that you knew he was about to pour boiling water on the skin of this poor woman. Pour it right where it would surely splash on you a little, if not a lot. Probably a lot. Two birds, one stone, and all that.

It didn’t matter if it was strange. Your fingers flexed and your muscles tensed as you saw him turn the pot over slowly, and steaming water came flying down, pouring over the woman’s wounds.

She screamed. It was loud. It hurt your ears. The irritation of it distracted you from seeing Strade move the pot around so that the water trailed over the frozen peas–and your hand keeping it pressed against her–as he covered her thigh in the water.

“Fuck!” You said, biting your cheek hard. Your fingers danced on the bag but you didn’t dare pull away. You could see your own skin turning a shade of red. Her thighs had taken the brunt of it, though. There were even blisters forming on her skin already as she sobbed and cried and begged for someone, anyone, to help her.

You were someone. You were anyone.

You couldn’t help her.

“Language, liebchen,” Strade said, teasingly. You mumbled out an apology, although you doubt he actually cared.

He sighed when the pot was emptied, and tossed it on the floor.

“I don’t know… I just don’t think it’s enough. Do you?” He grasped your burned hand and you couldn’t stifle the sound of yelping pain as he gripped it hard. Your skin would blister too–it was already peeling a little.

“What…whatever you think is best,” you stammered.

“That’s right,” he said, grinning. He gave your hand a squeeze and you groaned. “I think I’ll work a little more on this project myself before dinner.” He let your fingers go, and you cradled your hand against your chest. “Have Ren take care of that. Come back down when it’s wrapped up.” his free hand grabbed the chin of the sobbing, bleeding, blistered woman again. “I think we’ll make a movie, and I need my prettiest co-star to help me out.”

“Of course.” You gave her one half-pitiful glance–the way her frightened, bloodshot eyes darted to you with a mixture of anger and pity made you want to hurl–and went up the stairs.

By the time you’d made it to the top, you already heard Strade pulling out his video equipment.

—

“It… doesn’t look too bad,” Ren said quietly. He held your hand underneath the sink, letting the cold water soothe your burn. But every time your hand trembled and the stream went just out of reach, it burned again, and you winced.

“Most of it hit her thigh,” you whispered. Though you didn’t need to, since both of you were well aware that Strade was busy in the basement. Old habits die hard, however. “She got it worse.”

Ren hummed. “They usually do.” He told you to keep your hand in place while he fumbled in the cabinet under the sink, looking for supplies. “I don’t know if he has–oh!” His ears twitched and perked up as he found what he’d been looking for.

It was a tube of burn relief ointment. He flipped it over and read the back, mumbling all the while. “It’s expired but…”

You smiled, just a little, and finished his sentence for him.

“Better than nothing, right?”

Ren smiled, and you caught sight of his tail curling behind him as he turned off the sink and told you to sit down on the toilet so she could wrap you up.

Was it wrong that some of the most pleasant moments in this house, if you could call them pleasant, were with Ren? Especially quiet moments like this, where he took care of you, or you took care of him. You were both well acquainted with fixing up the results of your time with Strade by now.

He’d cleaned out deep cuts on your back, and you’d iced and splinted his broken toes. He let you curl up in his nest of a bed after a particularly awful night of torture, and you let him slide under your covers when he’d had an nightmare about the last time Strade made him kill someone.

It was transactional in some ways, you supposed. But when you saw his ears perk up or his tail swoosh or the way his eyes seemed to light with something genuine behind them while you talked with him, you realized it wasn’t all practical. It couldn’t be. Not when you were in this together.

Ren made quick work of bandaging your hand. The cream was smoothed over the reddened, flaking parts of your skin and he wrapped your hand up with a bandage. It hurt, still, but nothing to write home about. Hah! As if you’d ever be allowed to write home.

Hell, if by some miracle you could write home, how would you even word the letter?

“Dear mom and dad, last night my captor-who-also-fucks me made me keep my hand on a table while he hammered nails underneath my fingernails and asked me which one hurt the most. P.S. The milk in the fridge is expired and he’s threatening to make me or Ren drink it because of the waste.”

The thought made you snort. Ren looked up from his spot on the floor, where he’d taken to impromptu digging through the cabinet to look for some undisclosed item.

“What’s funny?”

You mulled it over. Sometimes, you didn’t like to tell Ren what you were thinking. You trusted him, to an extent. You liked him, to an extent. You were friends, to an extent. How far did that extent go? It depended.

He was here first, and sometimes, the tension between the two of you was too taut and fraught to ignore. There was always that underlying worry, an electric buzz you couldn’t turn off all the way: what if Strade decided he didn’t want two captives? Or what if he felt two was his limit, and he wanted to bring someone new in?

Which one of you would get the ax–literally?

But this was maybe not the type of thing that Ren might murmur to Strade in a moment of weakness. It was harmless, wasn’t it, to make a joke about writing home?

“I was just imagining what I might write home in a letter to my parents.” You flexed your bandaged hand. “I mean, if we were allowed to write home.”

“Like from a summer camp?” Ren asked. He pulled his knees up and rested his chin on them.

“I guess,” you replied, smiling a little. “Although this would be one…” Fucked up, disgusting, hellish– “Specialty summer camp.”

Ren snorted a little. “Definitely not like the ones in movies.”

“Maybe horror movies,” you added with a grin. One of your front teeth–not from the center two, thank hell–was missing now, so you rarely grinned. But it felt different when it was just you and Ren alone. It was okay to let him see those imperfections, because he had them too. Maybe not missing teeth, but…

“Sleepaway Camp!” He blurted. “Or Friday the 13th…”

You started to open your mouth, ready to tell him that you once saw a screening of the first Friday the 13th at a summer camp, when an all-too-familiar sound came wafting up from the cracked open basement door.

“Liebling! It doesn’t take that long to bandage a little burn! I hope I don't have to come get you.”

Ren’s tail went straight up at the sound of Strade’s voice. The sing-song nature of his words did not hide the danger in them. If you had a tail, yours would be standing stock straight too. But your body had to make do with your muscles tensing and your bowels clenching hard.

“I have to go,” you murmured, hopping off the toilet seat.

You paused in the doorway. Ren had his knees hugged to his chest, his ears flat against his head. No doubt he was wondering if Strade would call him down, too. Or if he’d be pissed off about something and take it out on Ren later.

“Thanks for patching me up, Ren.” His ears twitched, and he glanced up at you. “Really, I mean it.” You smiled–grinned, showing off one of your missing teeth. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”

His tail relaxed a little and he smiled back, an almost puppy-like grin crossing his expression for a moment, and it was enough to give you some vague emotional relief as you left the bathroom before Strade was forced to come up the stairs and retrieve you.

–

She wouldn’t last another day. That much was clear. Her blood was everywhere now. On the floor. Smeared on her skin. On Strade’s hands–on yours.

Of course he’d made you participate. You were his lovely assistant, after all. Although he always said Ren was better at the work, when it came down to it. You were too prone to trembling and hesitation. To say nothing of your occasional habit of vomiting at the sight of anything more than blood–guts, in particular, were your weakness.

Hers, too, by the way she quivered at the sight of the large hunting knife Strade twirled in his hands.

“I think this has gone on long enough. Don’t you, Schatz?” He looked back at you with a thoughtful smile. “Shall we end it?”

Without thinking much, you nodded. Yes, it had gone on long enough. Yes, you wanted her to just die already. Yes, you wanted to go over to the sink and scrub your hands until they were pruney and wrinkled and there was no trace of her visceral fluids on your skin.

“Go on,” he told you, gesturing at the trembling woman. Covered in cuts and gouges and burns. Where there had been dried blood earlier today, there were now smears of fresh gore. From Strade’s boots and the knife. Strade had even taken a blow torch to the burns caused by the boiling water, making them go from peeling and red to a series of gouged, pus-like craters in her flesh.

Cold seeped into your socks from the floor as you walked over to her. She regarded you with dull, dying eyes. She opened her mouth, maybe to say something, but whatever word she might have come up with wouldn’t come. Her swollen, bruised lip trembled as blood dribbled out of it.

One of the handcuff keys was taped to the back of the poll. Strade always liked to keep extras around, in case he lost the original but still wanted to uncuff someone. He usually didn’t uncuff people unless they were being bound in some other way (usually not a good sign) or he was just about finished with them (definitely a bad sign); and in this case, you knew she was being released only to make killing her a little more fun.

Her hands flopped forward as soon as the cuffs were undone. There was a brief moment where you saw her regard her wrists, all reddened and cut from where the metal handcuffs dug into them.

But the moment was over as soon as Strade stepped forward and pulled her close with a decisive yank of her hair. She yelped–you were surprised she had the yelp in her, her voice should have been shot from all the screaming–and he twisted her hair tight to keep her still.

“It’s been fun, but it’s time to go now. Don’t take this personally, hm? Or do, actually, it might make you feel better.”

She didn’t have time to respond. He rarely wanted them to say anything, you thought. It was just part of his internal script, a set of syllables that gave him extra pleasure as he snuffed out someone’s internal light.

He stuck the hunting knife into her gut and twisted. She didn’t scream. She barely shouted. The sound, instead, was one of strangled horror. Like she couldn’t believe what was happening to her. He twisted again, and she grunted and gasped, a sound that was almost like a deep, gaping hiccup.

“Shh,” he murmured, a sick grin splitting his face. His eyes darted over her face, and you got a front-row view of how his expression was gleefully illuminated by the sight of her own life fading away. He enjoyed it so much, he even let go of the knife handle so that he could grasp her face with both hands and keep her dying gaze in his sights.

Who was she? What had she been, before the basement? Was she thinking about her friends, her family? Did she have children that were going to be left behind? Maybe she was in college, maybe she’d been studying for exams that would never happen. There would be uneaten prepared lunches in her fridge, a bookmark that would never move past a certain page.

Her hands went tremblingly to the handle of the knife sticking out of her. She held the handle tenderly with bruised, bloody hands. Didn’t Strade see it? No, he was too focused on her face. But he didn’t even see the way her expression shifted.

No, he saw it. But maybe he didn’t know what it meant, because he’d never been on the other end. The way she went from looking confused and horrified to determined.

She didn’t act right away.

You could have said something. You could have called out a warning.

But instead you watched as the dying woman yanked the knife out of her gut, viscera and blood coming out with it, and stabbed it right into Strade’s neck.

He gasped now. A gaping, strangled sound. His hands went instinctively to his neck and it took him a few slow, trembling tries to pull it out. You saw the blood arch and spurt–an artery–and he fell to his knees.

The woman stepped away with what must have been her last ounce of energy. She had only enough life left in her to turn to you and smile–she was missing teeth, too–before she collapsed on the ground. She was still alive, but her shock would come soon after.

It wasn’t her you were watching, anyway. It was Strade.

His eyes darted to and fro until they landed on you. He had his hand pressed against the wound now, but it wasn’t doing much good. He would need a proper compress… an ambulance… surgery of some kind.

You don’t know why you called him. To help Strade? To help you?

“Ren.”

Not loud enough.

“Ren.”

Still not loud enough.

“Ren!”

Before you knew it, you were simply screaming his name, filling the basement with a different pitch of scream than it was used to. Your own voice was barely recognizable.

The basement door slammed open and you heard frantic footsteps pounding down the stairs. You saw Ren, only a blur of orange in your shock, take in the scene. His own mouth slowly gaped open, but unlike Strade and the unfortunate woman on the floor and your own panting lips, no sound came out.

Ren said your name. You think it was Ren, because Strade was surely in no position to talk. It shook you out of your stupor and you ran to him, clinging to his arm, crying fitfully. He wrapped one arm around you and the two of you stood, together, watching Strade bleed.

“What do we do?” The inside of your elbow pressed hard against Ren’s back as you held him. You wanted to snuggle, like the way you did on good nights. You wanted him to make it all go away.

Maybe he sensed this. Because while the two of you had clung together in so many occasions, this time, he stood up taller. He held you tighter. And then he assessed the situation.

Ren watched Strade quietly for a long moment. Strade gazed up at him–at you, too, but mostly Ren–with wide-eyed helplessness. The look didn’t suit him at all. He seemed to know it.

“Help me,” Strade managed. It almost didn’t feel like speech. Maybe the knife had grazed his vocal chords.

Neither of you moved at first. There was a long moment in which either of you could have sprung into action; could have ran to the supply cabinet and grabbed thick gauze to press against the wound, while the other could have bounded up the stairs to call an ambulance.

But you didn’t. And Ren didn’t.

And then Ren looked at you, and took a step backward. He pulled you with him, and you went willingly, taking another step, and another, until the two of you were standing at the bottom of the stairs.

“You…” Strade gurgled out the word, and blood came bubbling out in between the fingers pressed against his neck with it. “You…”

He didn’t get to finish. His eyes widened and you saw the light leave them before he collapsed on the floor.

For the first time since you’d been brought here, the basement was truly silent.

Strade was dead.

Neither of you moved for a while. And then you felt a hoarse sob coming on. Relief, terror, and shock coursed through you, fighting for the surface in a way that could only result in tears.

Ren regarded you with an unreadable expression and slowly removed his arm from your shoulder. You whimpered–don’t leave me, you wanted to say–and he smiled, a soft, little thing.

“Don’t worry. I’m just going to make sure he’s dead.”

Oh. That was a good idea. But what if he wasn’t? What if Strade got to his feet and oh, the two of you would be in for it. He’d probably kill both of you–or at least you–and it would be slow and awful and you’d beg, beg, for death.

“Ren,” you said, almost stammering, swallowing a thick lump in your throat.

He turned back towards you, curious.

You pointed to the table of tools at Strade’s disposal. “Take something. Just in case.”

Ren stared at the weapons that had been used to kill countless people. At the blades and torches and nails that had been used to hurt him, and you. Then he grabbed a heavy hammer and slowly approached the bleeding corpse (please let it be a corpse) of Strade.

Strade didn’t move as Ren approached him. Or when Ren knelt down, hammer at the ready. Or when Ren’s fingers slowly reached out and pressed against his neck, his wrist.

“No pulse,” said Ren.

Ren set the hammer down and used both hands to shove Strade’s body until it was fully on his back. His eyes, dull and dead, stared up at the ceiling without seeing anything.

He was dead. Truly dead.

Really most sincerely dead, your thoughts echoed in a half-mimic of the Munchkins in The Wizard of Oz.

You barely registered Ren digging around in Strade’s pocket before he returned to you, wrapping his arm around your waist as he began to lead you upstairs.

“Let’s not stay down here,” he said. He gave Strade’s corpse one last look before staring ahead at the basement door. How many times had the two of you gone up and down these stairs at Strade’s whim? It always meant you would get hurt, or you would help Strade hurt others. It was never willing, going up these stairs. Never a choice.

And now the two of you were going up them together, Ren leading you, of your own free will.

Free will! What a concept. One you thought you’d lost forever. And yet here it is, given by the hands of a woman whose last days were filled with unnecessary, unfair agony. You wish you knew her name, so you could thank her properly.

Ren shut the basement door. It sounded louder than it ever had before. Or was it because the house was so quiet now?

“Come here,” Ren said. And you didn’t know why he said it–shock, confusion, uncertainty still reigned–until you saw what was in his hand.

His collar. It was… off. But how and–

Ren held up the key he’d taken from Strade’s pocket and shook it back and forth, like a well-earned prize. That’s what it was, in some ways.

You stepped towards Ren and turned around, breathing heavily at the thought of being truly free from the collar. Strade only took them off the pair of you when you were showering and, once you had learned to behave well enough, when you slept. But they always went back on first thing in the morning, and their threat was an ever-constant presence in your mind, just like the metal was ever-constant around your neck.

Ren’s fingers brushed the back of your shoulder. You heard him breathing just as heavily. For a moment, he didn’t do anything. Wasn’t he going to…?

“Ren?” You asked, voice quivering. The air felt suddenly too heavy, your collar weighing you down more than normal. There was an awful thought, then: What if he doesn’t take your collar off? What if Ren is… what if, what if…

But then you felt the pressure from him sticking the key into the back of the metal contraption, heard it twist, and felt cool relief on your neck as Ren lifted the collar away from your neck and set it down on the coffee table.

Both hands went to your neck. The skin was sensitive, bruised. A few days ago, Strade had come into your room at night for a session of “fun,” which ended with you being choked into unconsciousness. You’d woken up to Ren splashing cold water on your face. “Thought I’d lost you,” he’d said.

The bruises Strade gave you would fade away in time. At least the ones on the outside.

And Ren…

You turned around and gave him a fractured smile. You leaned in, and Ren leaned in, and you hugged each other tenderly. Not just because it was the nicest way to hug, but because Ren’s rib fracture was still healing, and your back hurt, and both of you were littered with scars and cuts and bumps and bruises.

After a while, Ren pulled away. “Let’s… sit down.”

He sat down on the sofa, which was dotted with sprinkles of Ren’s orange fur; no matter how much you lint-rolled the furniture, you could never quite get all of it out.

Well, that didn’t matter now. You’d never have to clean up this living room, or the kitchen, or the brain matter and blood stains in the basement, again. You could go home.

And Ren could go home.

And the nightmare would be over.

For now, you sat, side by side, on a sofa that had never seemed more ordinary. The house had never seemed more ordinary. Its secrets were primarily down in the basement. The rest of the house was bland and boring by comparison. Unless you counted upstairs, as it was not unheard of for Strade to take his particular brand of “fun” into your respective rooms.

And now? It was quiet. Still. There was no chance that Strade would come walking up the stairs. No chance that you’d be called down them to torture someone.

Certainly no chance that he’d call both of you down, which never ended well. He liked to see Ren hurt you, because it seemed to hurt Ren. But sometimes, sometimes, you thought… there was a glimmer of something in Ren’s eyes in those moments.

Something that reminded you too much of pleasure to ignore. Just a spark of it, but that was enough, when you were bound to a table and he was clawing open your thighs at Strade’s behest.

“Ren?” You forced yourself to stop thinking like that. That was the past. This was now. No, more than that: this was the future. A future without Strade, without this house, without pain.

Ren looked over at you, slowly. The realization of what had just happened, and what it meant, seemed to be catching up to him, too. “... Yeah?”

Your fingers scratched at some of Ren’s stray fur on the couch. Some of the orange fur had already started clinging to your bandage.

“What do we do now?” A simple question for you to ask. Several plans rushed through your head but it was hard to make sense of them. What was the best course to take; which authorities did you appeal to, when there was a dead serial killer and one of his victims in the basement, but your hands were on the torture tools, yet the same tools had been used to hurt you?

You swallowed hard, shaking your head, willing the dizzying thoughts to quiet down. “Do we call the police first? Or… an ambulance? Or–or–”

Ren gripped the hand that idly scratched the couch. He intertwined his fingers in yours, and when you looked up at him, his eyes were wide. And just a bit wild.

“We could stay here.”

Your heart thudded. Once, twice. A third time.

“What?” You shifted on the couch, facing Ren more clearly. “We… we can’t, it’s–”

Ren squeezed your hand, a little too hard–the burn–and you winced. He didn’t let up, but he didn’t know you were hurting, did he? It was all just a rush right now, confusing, scary.

“We can,” he said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. His mouth broke into an almost childish grin as he continued. “Strade’s got a lot of money, we can use that to keep up the bills. Buy whatever we want. We won’t have to worry about anything!” His tail swished behind him, thumping into your side.

When you didn’t respond–words weren’t coming–his grin deflated a little. “I’m… I’m a good roommate,” he said, ears flattening. “I’ll take care of you.” He squeezed even tighter now. “We’ll do everything together, and we don’t have to worry about Strade getting mad about it. We’ll watch movies or-or play games or whatever you want.” He swallowed and you watched his throat bob. “And I promise I won’t leave fur everywhere.”

“Ren–” It was your turn to give his hand a squeeze, and you took his other in your free hand and clasped them both. “I’m not worried about your fur.”

His ears perked up and his smile came back.

“It’s… we can’t stay here,” you said, voice wobbling but gaining more firmness as you went on. “We need to leave. We need to call the police.”

Ren’s ears twitched. He looked thoughtful, opening his mouth, and shutting it. He was just confused, that’s all. Like you were. He needed to be reminded that if Strade was gone, the both of you were free. You’d go home, and he’d go home, and you could call or text or email or something but…

“Don’t be stupid.”

The firmness in Ren’s voice shook you a little. More than that, it made you worry. He frowned at the sight of your tense shoulders, the quirk in your mouth. “Think about it,” he said, gently saying your name. “Remember all the people who watch his videos? Don’t you know who’s in those chats?”

The reminder of the chatrooms came hurtling straight into your guts. The chat… the people there paid money to watch people suffer. Watch them die. How many times had they encouraged Strade to indulge in some fucked up torture? Hell, they’d asked him countless times to string you up, cut you open, pull out your guts while you were still alive. Strade had danced away the requests with a teasing lilt, but the threat was never gone.

Ren let go of your bandaged hand and gently cupped your cheek. He spoke slowly, almost sweetly. “They’re rich. Important. Mayors. Politicians. Doctors. Police.”

The anguish your stomach began to stretch. Ren didn’t stop talking.

“They know both our faces. Do you know what they’ll do to us, if they find us?”

Tears pricked, unwanted and unbidden, at your eyes. He was right. You couldn’t go to the police. You couldn’t go to the media. This could never get out. But that didn’t mean you had to stay here. More than that: you couldn’t stay here.

It would be another type of collar, to find yourself stuck here with Ren. And the collar might not be electric, but it would be just as dangerous.

“Okay,” you said slowly. “No police.”

Ren grinned hopefully.

“But,” you continued. “We can’t stay here. I want to go home. And you–you get to go home now, too.” Ren had never talked much about his life before Strade, but surely he had friends. A family. An apartment or a house. A life. Just like you.

“You want to leave–” His voice was thin and there was a fissure in it, ready to crack.

The hand on your cheek pressed harder, and you felt the thin press of his claws against your skin. Your eyes must have widened or perhaps you flinched, you don’t know, but Ren saw–and yanked away.

“S-Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to.”

No, he didn’t. He wouldn’t. He was upset, he was scared, hell, you didn’t know whether you wanted to laugh or cry or start belting out show tunes right now.

Freedom was confusing as hell.

“I know,” you said, slowly. “It’s okay.”

Ren stared down at the ground. Then he stood up and fished Strade’s keyring out of his pocket and set it down on the coffee table with a jingling rattle.

“I’m going to get us some water. And maybe a snack. We’ll… we’ll talk about this more. We can talk about it, and not make a decision right away. Okay?” He fumbled with both his hands in front of him, looking like the meek young man you’d met that first night, when he cleaned your wounds and gave you water to drink.

You stared at him, perhaps for too long.

“Okay, Ren, we’ll talk about it,” you lied.

You watched him walk into the kitchen, where Strade would never saunter in for a case of beer again. You heard him open the cabinet for an empty glass, none of which would ever again find themselves dashed into tiny shards that could be ground into your skin for fun.

And then you leaned forward, grabbed the keyring off the countertop, pulled out the key to the front door, and softly padded your way to the threshold that neither of you had been able to cross in ages.

Your heart thudded. Your stomach heaved. But you unlocked the door and bolted, socked feet aching on the concrete sidewalk.

Ren said your name after the third step you took beyond the door of Strade’s house of horrors.

You could have kept running. Maybe you should have.

But instead, you turned around, to look at Ren standing in the doorway. There were no glasses of water in his hand–you don’t remember registering the sound of the sink at all, in fact. It was just Ren, with his hands at his sides, looking at you with an expression that was equally pitiful, agonizing, and worrying.

He said your name again.

You felt hot tears squeeze out of your eyes as you shook your head, turned around, and ran for your life.

#yandere #boyfriend to death #the price of flesh #ren hana #ren hana x reader #afterwitch writes #/pets prologue done! dunno how many chapters this one will end up being.

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mymelloii · 1 month

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Random Ren/Redacted HCs

---Minors/Ageless blogs DNI---

CW: Mentions of gore and stalking

_____

Ren has his eyes and mind on you 24/7, on the days you stay home so does he. Whenever you go out, whether it's with friends or to run errands he's always trailing close behind; far enough not to be noticed, but close enough to protect his angel.

-If you ever have the misfortune of coming across a creep during one of your walks, he'll promptly drag them into an ally way and give them the ass whopping of a lifetime before they can do any harm towards you. Typically he wouldn't even allow those types of people to approach you, let alone gaze at you, but on the rare occasion that someone does cat call you or even tries to touch you he'll bash their head into some good ol' concrete; without you noticing of course.

On the days you stay home are probably his favourites, he gets to watch you all day, doing your morning routine, while you busy yourself with your hobbies, or better yet watch tv/your preferred streaming service. As you lounge on your couch Ren is watches you through the camera he installed in your living room. Meticulously watching each and everyone of your reactions. Whenever you laugh so does he, if you start to cry or tear up, so will he. His emotions are practically interconnected with yours.

-His PC setup isn't anything notable, despite the fact he has 3 monitors, the first one capturing you, the one next to it being all open tabs of all your social media accounts, and the last one being work related or his screen saver of you. He has a simple wooden desk with a gaming chair, no RGB- though, he might have one of those mouse pads with a character that eerily resembles you.

Whenever he works, he loves having you on his main monitor; it truly makes him feel like your there with him. If he's alone, which is most of the time he is, he'll find himself talking to himself. Each topic of conversation is always about you, he's either commenting about how amazing you look today, or praising you for the littlest things. In his eyes everything you do is nothing less than perfection.

-Although he has a playlist of his own he loves listening to any and all of your favourite songs, doesn't matter what genre it may be he's all up on that shi. Extra points if it's romantic. He'll go on a daydream about you, imaging you, how whenever you listen to the song you can't help but to think about him and how your chest tightens up at the mere thought of him; as he feels with you. He knows every song in your playlist and all the lyrics to your favourite songs. Maybe one day you'll notice him and make a playlist just for him.

This one is less serious but as mentioned before on the 14DaysWithYou blog Ren had a red room phase. Though it was short lived I like to image that while he was selling the parts he obtained totally humanely that he often added a thank you note and one of those cute freebies you get whenever you buy from an Etsy shop. The note reading "Thank you for supporting my small business. Your patronage means everything to me! (*^_^*)" ITS SO DUMB DJKSDUVI

-In canon, he is extremely apathetic towards everyone with the exception of you. Which also makes him extremely accommodating towards your needs, he knows all your struggles even if you haven't voiced them to him yet. He accepts you and your struggles, no matter how big they may be; he'll always find a way to help you. This could be helping you with work, making or ordering special meals for you or simply listening to you vent. Whether it's mental or physical to him your health and happiness is his main priority.

Which leads me to that while he may be exceptionally caring, he's also remarkably jealous, towards everyone and everything that catches your attention. Now, he would never do anything that will harm you, but he's not above harming or black mailing others that get closer than he's comfortable with. Could be a coworker or a friend that is getting a bit too friendly with you which will enable him to scour every crevice of the internet to find any dubious rumors or photos including them. He'll also hack into their phone and go through their internet history and photos for more evidence against them. He'll then DM them through one of his burner accounts and present everything he found and threaten to leak all their information on multiple threads. Moth watch out 😨

-If the subject of your affection happens to be an animal or a stuffed animal he obviously can't go through those lengths. Although he would get jealous if he sees you cuddling with your pet instead of him he knows that the affection you feel is different and will opt to plopping himself next to you and proceed to get extremely clingy. He doesn't mind sharing you with any of your non-human companions as long as he stays yours.

_____

I haven't wrote in a while so srry if there's any run-on sentences + it's late so SPARE ME. Again these are all headcanons and if you wish to find canon content of 14DYW visit here, as well as to remember and respect the creators wishes and boundaries ^^

Side note I plan on writing more so if you have any suggestions please let me know! I haven't made a list of my do's and don'ts but please don't get offended if I don't take your suggestion!

#14dwy ren #14dwy #14 days with you #14 days with you ren #14dwy redacted #ren 14 days with you #14 days with you fanfiction #14dwy x reader #yandere #yandere visual novel #please dont flop

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dabislilbaby · 8 months

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Kenma Fluff <3

@haru-x-ren @electricnovaa

It's late when you finally make it home after a long, exhausting day. "Ken?" you called, entering the mostly dark apartment. "In here." He called back from your room. You sighed, glad that he was home, before taking off your shoes and putting your keys on the hook.

The door was cracked open and you could see faint light seeping through as you approached. You found him sitting at his computer with his headset over one ear. Not surprising. He glances at you before putting his attention back on the screen. "Hey." was all he said. You smiled softly. He never did talk very much, but you didn't mind. "Hi." you replied. He moved his hand away from his mouse to grab the bottle of water sitting to his right. As he took a sip, you leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I'm gonna take a shower."

"Okay." He set his drink back down and glanced at you one more time as you walked away from him.

He saw the bathroom door open out of his peripheral vision and it pulled his attention away from the screen for just a second. He turned his head quickly to catch another glance at you before he looked back at his game. He noticed how your hair was still slightly damp, and you were wearing one of his shirts that just barely covered past your hips. He paused his game and turned to look at you, moving his chair back a few inches. Before you walked past him, he reached his left arm out in your direction. "c'mere." he said.

You looked up from the sound of his voice. "Ken, m' tired." You mumbled, rubbing your eye with the back of your hand. "I know." He kept his arm stretched out to you and just stared, waiting for you to move closer. And after a few seconds you relented. You stepped closer to him and as soon as you were in reach, his hand held onto your waist as he pulled you into his lap. You settled yourself comfortably on his thighs and he moved his chair forward, caging you in between him and his desk. He unpaused his game and you buried your face in his neck, resting your cheek on the hood of his sweater. You felt his chest rise and fall as he took a deep breath, the smell of you shampoo filling his nose. He wasn't very good with words, but he liked when you were close to him like this.

When he'd enter a cutscene, he'd take his hand off the keyboard and rub small circles on your back, or your thigh while he listened to them talk. He wasn't surprised when he looked down to see you asleep on his shoulder, occasionally mumbling something incoherent. He smiled, and then kissed the top of your head.

A/N: I've mentioned recently that I've been in a little bit a a rut when it comes to writing 🙇🏽‍♀️ I haven't been able to find the right amount of motivation or creativity to write anything, and it's really been bugging me bc I have so many unfinished projects in my drafts that I wanna share with you guys😭 but I think this might (very much so a big maybe) have been what I needed to get me back into it. So... hopefully I'll start posting fics again🥲

P.s. I know most of you follow me for MHA content and I'm still 100% posting for the fandom, but I think I'm going to start dipping my toes into other ones as well since I've expanded the list of animes I've seen and fell in love with

🖤🖤🖤

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uhhhitsgray · 2 years

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Gamer Boy

↳ Pairing Eren Yeager x reader ↳ Warnings: nsfw, eren x fem reader, smut, orgasm delay kind of - if you squint, some fingering, blow job. ↳ w/c: 3.4k~

"Bruh, I need a healer! Where the fuck is Connie?!"

"Of course he got food without telling anyone."

"Ah shit. I died in their spawn, left side."

"Shut the fuck up Jean, you're bottom of the team!"

This was all you had been hearing for the last few hours - Eren playing games with his friends. He was already gaming when you let yourself into his apartment earlier in the day. He paused for a moment, giving you a peck on the lips as you told him you were fine with hanging out while he still played.

Though, your answer may have been a bit different if you knew he'd be playing for this long. His gaming wasn't the issue at all actually. You two played games together all the time. The issue was you becoming gradually more horny as your mind played out scenarios of him fucking you stupid.

Oh how your core was now aching for his tender, yet at the same time rough, touch. How you craved the way he'd always twist your nipples just the way you like it to incite an instant moan to slip from your lips. How his fingers moved inside you, how he filled you up perfectly.

Fucking hell.

His back was facing you in his chair at his desk, headset on, arms moving across his keyboard and mouse. His veins exposed, muscles flexing as he moved. His hair in the normal bun it was usually in, it looked good but would look better with your hands weaved through it.

Walking up behind him from the bed, your hands snaked around his neck. Eren jumped slightly, pulling one side of his headset off of his ear. "Holy shit you scared me." He let out a small laugh.

"Yeah?" You breathed on his neck, placing kisses down the one side as your hands slid forward on his chest.

"One sec, guys." You heard Eren say as he pressed his mute button on his keyboard, turning his head to look at you.

"Baby, I'll be done after this game, okay? Promise."

You let out a small groan, your hand running up his neck, finger trailing over his adams apple. "Hmm - can't wait for you," the kisses you place on his neck are turning into nibbles. "Need you now Ren."

His body stiffened slightly, eyes still on the monitor in front of him.

You kiss his neck. "I want to play a game too. How about I get on my knees under your desk…" You kiss the other side of his neck. "And suck your pretty cock, hm?" You bite his neck, your hands slowly trail down his chest, down his abs as your first finger dips into the waistband on his shorts and briefs.

He takes a staggered breath in as his eyes glance down to your hands.

Your finger moves away from his waistband, "But, keep playing your game. Unmute your mic, act like nothing is happening. Yeah?" Your hands yet again wander down the outside of his shorts to find his cock already half hard, you smirk to yourself.

Eren swallows next to you, "Yeah, okay." His breathing is already faltering some, his response breathy.

Without another word you're on your hands and knees, crawling under his desk. Fingers dancing up the outside of his hips up to the waistband of his pants. Pushing your fingers inside of his pants, his skin is soft and warm to the touch.

"Lift up baby." You state in-between his legs. In a brief second his thighs are pushing off the chair under him as you tug side to side to pull his shorts and briefs off.

As his bottoms pool to his feet, Eren picks up one foot after another moving the clothing out of the way. Once both feet were planted on the ground you scoot forward placing kisses on the inside of his thighs. Erens legs closing slightly at the sensation.

You giggle, "Spread your legs a bit Ren. Don't be shy." Eren shifts his weight a bit in his seat as he spreads his legs more for you.

"I can leave this game right now if you want." Erens voice wavers a bit as you nuzzle your cheek into his thigh, lazily stroking his cock that was gradually getting harder.

Eren pushes his chair back a bit, allowing him to see you in between his legs. You hold his cock up, running your tongue from his base to his flushed tip. "But baby, that'd defeat the purpose of the game." You smirk up at him.

Erens head lulls back at the sensation, a groan escaping his lips. "Do as you please baby, but when you're done I'm gonna fuck you so good." He leans down a bit, holding your chin with his thumb and finger. "You want that, princess?"

You can feel a heat pool between your legs, your eyes glazing over at the words that fell from his lips. A nod was the only thing you could manage. Erens thumb brushes the side of your cheek, "I thought so."

He gives you a wink as he scoots his chair under the desk again, cock hard and hanging heavy between his legs.

"Hey guys, sorry I'm back. Yeah everything's good." You heard Eren continue to talk to his friends, but you ignore the chatter above you as your eyes look over his cock in front of you. Thick, and long with a vein that runs up the side. His tip was shiny as you continued to smear precum over him.

Your hand loosens around him as your place kisses and nibbles on his thighs as his muscles become tense. You could say you had an obsession with thighs, but who could blame you with his thighs splayed before you. Smooth, tan and muscular. Fuck he was pretty.

"Mmmm…" Eren let out the smallest groan as you tighten your grip on his cock, moving your mouth over his tip as your tongue dances circles over it.

You hear him clear his voice from above you, "Yeah I'm good."

"I did not moan, I just got a cramp in my foot." You smile to yourself. You move your mouth further down his cock, bobbing your head up and down on his shaft. Your tongue rubbing on the underside of him.

"Fucking h-hell." Eren whispers out, your eyes shifting upwards watching his stomach rise and fall as his breathing quickens beneath his shirt.

"Huh?" Eren speaks into the mic. You remove your hands from his cock, running your hands up on the top of his thighs, stopping right below his hips as you continue to suck his cock.

"I am n-not stut-terring." You feel his thigh muscles get tight under your palms. You entice him to slip up more by digging your nails into his skin. You hear him let out a shaky breath.

Cute that he's trying so hard to hold it together.

Your hand makes it back over to his cock as you move your mouth off of it. Pumping his cock, it’s ungodly hard right now, that's covered in a mixture of saliva and precum. Slick noises are almost becoming too loud under the desk.

You see a bead of precum leak from his head, your hand pauses at the base of him. You circle your tongue over his head and flick your tongue over his precum soaked slit. His body flinched under your control.

"Hm? Yeah I'm here." If you could see Eren's face right now, you could probably cum on the spot. You were sure his pretty face is brushed a light shade of pink across his cheeks and nose. His pupils are probably blown in those beautifully blue green irises of his.

You take your mouth off his cock, you could feel how soaked you were without even touching yourself.

Fuck.

You needed to sit on his cock, you needed to be filled by this man now.

You crawl out under his desk, Eren's face looking exactly how you pictured. You smile up at him, sighing, "Pretty."

You stand taking your clothes off behind Eren, you watch him for a second as his weight shifts in his chair almost as if he's looking for relief to his heavy cock between his legs.

You turn his chair slightly, pulling a leg over his lap straddling his lap.

Eren pulls a side of his headset off his ear again, pressing a key on his keyboard, muting his mic then moves both hands to your waist, blown pupils finding yours.

"Couldn't wait princess?" His hand is running up your stomach, kneading one of your tits in his big hands.

"I dunno, you tell me." You grab the hand that's holding your breast and move it down to your pussy.

Eren's eyes become dark as his fingers feel just how wet you were for him. A finger pushes past your entrance as he moves his finger in and out of you. A low growl leaving his mouth, "Fuck baby."

You grab his wrist, pulling his finger out of you, "Play your game Ren."

Eren shoves the finger that was inside you into his mouth, licking the juices clean. You could feel his cock twitch under you. "Hhmmm, as you wish baby."

His body shifts under you, sitting up straighter to allow better and more comfortable access to his cock for you.

Your thighs press against his outer thighs, as you scan over his features as Eren tries to take his focus back to his game.

"Sorry, I'm back."

"Yes, I'll actually try this game."

"Huh? Nothing.. just been a bit distracted the past few games, all good."

You giggle to yourself as if he wasn't about to be distracted again in a few seconds.

You shift your body weight to one leg, reaching between your legs to grab Eren's cock. Rubbing his tip against your wet pussy, you notice Eren biting his lip. Probably trying to keep a moan in more than anything.

You lean your upper body closer to his chest. Your bare nipples touching his chest covered by his t-shirt. As you sink yourself down onto his cock, your nipples brush down his chest as your breath fans over his neck. You close your eyes as pleasure washes over you. Eren's eyes locking into yours as his head lulls back, lips pursed trying his damnedest to not make a noise.

You hear faint chatting through his headset, sounds of his name being called but he wasn't answering. His eyes still held your stare as you slowly started to bounce on his cock.

"I … hmph …" Erens hand that was on his mouse is now grabbing onto your waist, squeezing the skin as you keep your slow movements up. He lets go of your side, as if he needed to squeeze you to regain some sort of composure. "Yeah, I hear ya Connie. I'll be r-right there."

You lean your head forward, forehead resting on his shoulder as your fingers tangle themselves in his hair. You hear the chime in his headset indicating he muted himself. His big hand runs up the back of your neck, grabbing a handful of hair yanking your head back to look at him.

"You're not be-eing fair right now."

You slowly lowered yourself on his cock, shifting your hips to push him even further into you, a soft moan escaping your mouth, "How so?"

He pulls your head further back, as he sucks the skin on your neck. "You're being a fucking brat. And -" Eren pauses, his eyes rolling back into his head as you start rocking your hips on his cock. He lets out a groan beneath you, "And you know what happens when you're a brat."

Eren lets go of your hair as you lean your face into his neck, lips brushing his skin placing soft kisses as you pick up speed of you riding his cock. You whisper into his ear, "Think you needa remind me, Ren."

"Yeah?" His thumb is rubbing across your bottom lip, his eyes watching as his thumb pulls your lip down.

He unmutes his mic, "Something came up guys I gotta go."

"I'm fine, I'll talk to you guys later."

He leaves his match, taking his headset off and sitting it down on the desk. Scooting his chair back more as he grabs your ass, lifting you up so high off his cock just the head is still inside and he bucks his hips up into you.

Moans falling out of your mouth, "Fuck Eren!"

"Say. My. Name. Again." He states between every thrust into you. Your body turning into jelly as he continues to fuck into you. A hand grabs your tit, twisting your nipple just the way you like it. Your back is arching into him.

You moan out his name as your forehead has found the familiar home again on his shoulder, as you feel his hand grabbing your face, turning it towards him. "Can't be tired already princess, we're just getting started." Before you could even spill words out of your mouth Erens putting his hands under your thighs, holding you as he stands and walks you over to his bed.

He leans over, placing you on his bed as he places a soft, gentle kiss on your lips. He pauses, leaning back to peel his shirt off of his body and takes in the view of you below him. Your left leg out straight in front of you as the right is bent at the knee. He has the perfect view of your wet pussy, lips a faint shade of red from him rutting into your moments ago.

"On your stomach, princess." He says from above you, palming his cock as he watches your naked body pull a pillow under your stomach, back arching as you push your arms above your head, face squished into the bed below you.

"Fuck, who's got you this wet baby?" It's a rhetorical question, but a question to feed his hungry ego.

You spread your legs further apart for him, displaying your soaking cunt below him. Your eyes look behind you, catching his. "You. You've made me this wet. Just thinking about you fucking me has been driving me mad."

He lets out a small laugh as his middle and ring finger rub up and down your pussy, dipping his fingers into you as he curls his fingers just the right way in you.

"Hmn … Eren, fuck. That feels good." You moan out, your pussy tightening around his fingers.

You let out a small whimper as he removes his fingers from your pussy as he leans his tall frame over your back, "Tell me how good you taste for me." His fingers move in front of your mouth as your part your lips and suck his fingers, moaning as you make eye contact with him. "I taste so fucking good."

He loved every second of it and you could tell.

"Yeah?" He asks, as you feel his cock rub up and down your slit again.

Before you can answer he's pushing his cock into you, slow and deep.

"Hmn, fuck." He groans out from behind you. Pleasure washes over you, making it impossible for words to form.

A few pumps in and Eren is making a smooth and steady pace for himself. You turn your head to the other side, mumbling something under your breath.

“What’d you say baby?” Eren pauses his thrusts for a split second.

“Harder. Fuck me harder, Ren.” Your blown pupils catch his stare.

A devilish grin spreads across his face as he leans forward grabbing a handful of your hair pulling your body upwards. His warm breath fans across your neck as he speaks, “You mean like this?” He lets out a slow groan as he pulls himself almost fully out, letting go of your head as he bends his knee planting his foot on the bed below you two. His hand is holding onto your hip as he pushes himself hard and further into your soaking cunt.

“Fu-uck … hmn!” You moan out below him, vision becoming blurry as he continues to thrust into you with a rhythm that is driving you insane.

“More … more please.” You beg beneath him as if he wasn’t already fucking you perfectly.

Eren lets out a low groan behind you, “You’re being a needy little thing aren’t you?” Slick noises becoming louder the longer he fucks into you, “Hmn, you hear that ba-aby? That’s all you making those noises. Fucking hell.”

Your pussy tightens around his cock, Eren’s heading rolling back at the feeling. “Getting so tight on me princess.”

Your moans and whimpers are becoming louder with every thrust of his cock, your skin feeling tingly as your body gets closer to the orgasm you’ve been chasing.

“Not so fast now. Cumming so easily isn’t what I’ve taught you, is it?” He pulls his cock out of you, removing the pillow from below your stomach. “On your back baby.”

You mindlessly do as you’re told, too fucked out to even bother to answer him. Eren scoots close to you, his hands pushing your thighs up as he wraps one around his waist. In a split second he’s leaning over you, the loose strands of hair touching your forehead as his hand grips around your throat squeezing slightly. “Answer me, brat.”

“N-no, you didn’t teach me that - ah! Fuck Eren.” Your statement turns into a moaning mess as he slides the head of his cock back into you.

Your head lulls to the side as he starts fucking you with the force from before. Eren has a smirk plastered on his face as he watches your cheeks blush, your chest is heaving as you pant below him. Eren leans back on his legs, his hands running up your thighs to your knees, pushing your legs into your chest. “You look so pretty being fucked like this. Feels good to know you’re a mess because of me.”

“Only you…” You pant out, your eyes locking in with his. “Only you can do this to me.”

“Yeah, that’s fucking right princess.” He leans over you, pulling his dick out slightly, his lips meeting yours. His lips are soft on yours, as his tongue enters your mouth, sloppy kisses are exchanged as he slams his cock back into you.

“Hmn … hmm.” You moan into his mouth, your hands travel to the back of his head, fingers lanced in his hair pulling him closer.

His thumb moves down, circling over your clit. As if you weren’t already a moaning mess, you surely are now. “Cum for me princess, you deserve it. I’m right there with you.”

Eren leans back, away from your face as he keeps rutting into you. His movement falters as your pussy tightens around his cock, your eyes roll back into your head - back arching off the bed below you.

“Fuck … ah Eren!” Your hand grabs his forearm squeezing as your orgasm washes over you.

Your body shakes below him, as he slows his movement to allow you to ride out your orgasm. “Fu-ck.” His voice stutters, his body twitches above you as he pauses. You can feel his cock twitching inside you, can feel his cum fill you to the brim.

His hand runs through his hair as he finishes emptying himself in you. Small whimpers come from your mouth at the feeling of him finishing.

You’re still panting as he pulls his cock out of you, laying down next to you. Eren lets out a sigh, “Holy shit.” He tilts his head to the side to get a better look at you. Your cheeks are flushed, bits of your hair sticking to the side of your face.

Your forearm covers your eyes as you try to steady your breathing, “You’re fucking amazing.”

Eren rolls onto the side of his body, “Yeah?” He kisses your cheek. “You’re fucking amazing too princess.”

You turn your head, holding his face in your hands giving him a kiss. “Hm, good.”

#eren aot #eren x reader #eren x you #eren smut #eren yeager #attack on titan #aot smut #aot fanfiction #aot fandom #eren oneshot #eren yeager smut #alternate universe #modern setting

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marcmarcmomarc · 5 months

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Ruby telling this story in front of the whole Remnant Alliance, using Robyn’s Lie Detection to prove what she’s telling them is the truth, inspired by this post:

ROBYN: So what happened on the other side of the portals?

RUBY: Well, after I fell, I met a talking mouse I named Little, then we found Weiss and Blake captured by a whole village of talking mice whom we convinced to let them go, then we found Yang fighting a Jabberwalker while missing her arm, then we realized we were in our favorite childhood fairy tale, The Girl Who Fell Through the World.

OSCAR: That fairy tale actually happened?

RUBY: Then we went to the village in the Crimson Acre to bargain with the Jinxy Peddler for Yang’s arm.

EMERALD: You met the Jinxy Peddler?

VELVET: Was he cute?

WEISS: Yeah.

RUBY: And he was older than he was in the book. Anyway, toy soldiers won the arm, and we only got it back from them because Little tried stealing another “fine treasure”, exposing Jinxy’s treasures as fakes. The soldiers escorted us to the Crimson Castle, at first to arrest us for stealing Yang’s arm, or “royal property”, before I traded Penny’s sword, with a story of her being the greatest warrior to ever live.

REMNANT ALLIANCE:

RUBY: The occasion was the birthday of who we thought was the Red King, but turned out to be the Red Prince, who was more of a spoiled brat than Weiss was at Beacon.

YANG: (nudging Weiss) Heh-heh.

RUBY: Then we challenged him to a game of chess, where he shrunk the girls to the size of chess pawns, and when we beat him, he threw a tantrum and wanted us beheaded, and the Curious Cat rescued us.

NORA: The Curious Kitty?!

REN: Were they as chatty as the book made them out to be?

RUBY: Mm-hm. Not to mention easily distracted. Anyway, they took us to look for ingredients for a Growgurt Parfait in the Garden Acre, and we met a smoking caterpillar called Herb who drugged us into seeing our past selves via leaves from the Great Tree, which we all rejected, well, which the other girls rejected, I almost gave in, before the Cat stopped me, then got Herb swallowed by a hole in the ground.

TAI: You guys did drugs?

QROW: Whoa, whoa, don’t start drinking like me, girls.

RUBY: Anyway, the Cat led us to a market to keep looking for the Parfait ingredients. Along the way, they told us about Ascension, a process that occurs when an Afteran is no longer doing the assigned role that they are supposed to be, triggered by them losing their ways, wearing out, doubting themselves, or even just finishing their assigned tasks, upon which they are taken to the Great Tree and repurposed into someone or something else with a new identity, personality, and role. Their memories are erased in the process, but the heart barely ever forgets.

REMNANT ALLIANCE: Ooh.

RUBY: And then, the market was attacked by Jabberwalkers using Neopolitan’s Semblance. We had all of the ingredients for the Parfait, and the girls grew back to normal size just as we got assistance from the Rusted Knight riding his white rabbit.

WHITLEY: You know, Weiss had a crush on the Rusted Knight when she was a kid.

BLAKE: I think everyone had a crush on the Rusted Knight at some point.

RUBY: Well, things didn��t help when he turned out to be a grown-up Jaune with longer hair and a beard, who grabbed a fruit that sent him back in time twenty years right after he landed.

REMNANT ALLIANCE:

NORA: Oh, my Gods, Jaune.

JAUNE: I was stuck there isolated from other human contact, too.

YANG: Weiss certainly loved how mature he was.

RUBY: And the white rabbit was a jackalope Jaune named Juniper.

NORA: Aw, Jaune.

RUBY: Then Jaune told us his perspective on the Tree, that he believed it was death, that Alyx backstabbed her brother Lewis, the author of the fairy tale, who wrote the story the way he wished it had happened, and that the Cat couldn’t be trusted, then we got sent to a punderstorm, which creates a physical manifestation of a mental or emotional problem. Jaune, Weiss, and I were sent to metaphorical and literal crossroads, while Yang and Blake were sent to two broken, wooden, rickety bridges connected to a giant pillar they could only advance toward if they were honest about their feelings for each other. Yeah, Yang and Blake are girlfriends now.

REMNANT ALLIANCE:

NORA: See, Ren? I told you there was more going on!

KALI: Our baby girl found love?

TAI: With my sunny little dragon?

RAVEN: She really is your daughter, then, Tai.

RUBY: Then the Cat bailed on us after mistaking us for selfishly using them to get home, and once the storm passed, Jaune let us spend the night in his house in the Origami Acre, then he introduced us the next morning to a village of paper stars called the Paper Pleasers whose purpose was finished and kept trying to go to the Tree to gain a new purpose, but Jaune had been stopping them for as long as he knew them. Then Neo’s Jabberwalkers attacked, and while we were distracted, the Paper Pleasers finally managed to commit mass suicide via destroying the koi pond dam, then when the girls asked me to help comfort Jaune, I blew up at them for caring more about everyone else’s feelings or getting home, and taking my mental health for granted and ignoring my suffering…

REMNANT ALLIANCE:

WBY+J:

RUBY: …then I ran away, came across the Abandoned Acre, and entered a random mansion, where Neo had made clone illusions of Roman Torchwick, Penny, Pyrrha, Professor Lionheart, Clover, Professor Ozpin, and General Ironwood, and used them to physically and psychologically destroy me, and when the chaos was over, I didn’t want to be me anymore, not helped by Torchwick’s question: “Do you really think you can stand to watch more of your friends fall, or are you ready to admit the truth? That the world would just be better off without you?”

REMNANT ALLIANCE (passing tissues around):

RUBY: Then Neo offered me tea made from leaves from the Tree intended to wipe me from existence, then the Cat blasted her away, but then turned out to be evil and tried to possess me, then Neo fought them off and stomped Little to death, then I drank the tea, offing myself, and got swallowed by the Tree.

YANG: (tearing up) Oh, Rubes.

RUBY: Then I met a Blacksmith, who I also found at the market, or, rather, she found me, and then she presented me with a choice to either be someone else or myself. I saw my mom’s weapon and was treated to a vision of the night she left with Raven on another one of Ozpin’s secret missions and never came back.

TAI: (turns accusingly at…) Raven?

RAVEN: (sheepishly) Uh, surprise?

HARE: (to Ruby) Wait. What did you say your mother’s name was again?

RUBY: Summer.

HARE: (muttering) So, her uncle is Qrow, her father is Taiyang, and her sister’s mother is Raven. All are members of Team STRQ. Summer, Summer, Summer… (out loud) Summer Rose, the leader of Team STRQ, was your mother?

REMNANT ALLIANCE (walla): Summer?…Summer Rose?…The previous silver-eyed Huntress?…That’s Summer Rose’s daughter?

RUBY: Yeah. And then, I finally chose to be myself and grow into a better Huntress. And I. Came. Back, and helped the girls fight the evil Cat. And we won.

REMNANT ALLIANCE:

RUBY: And then Neo killed the Cat with the Jabberwalkers, who, by the way, are the only creatures to prevent Ascension if they eat Afterans. And, according to the girls, Neo was possessed by the Cat, and she chose to accept Torchwick’s death and undergo her own Ascension. Oh, and Little ascended, too, into who we called Somewhat, and succeeded Jaune as the protector of the Ever After. And then, we had made it to the Tree, and we walked through the door back home, landed inside the plane of the Tree met the Blacksmith again at her workshop, and when we noticed two statues of the Brother Gods, she told us their backstory. That the Ever After was overfilled with plants and dangerous wildlife in its primordial years, but the Brothers were created to clear it out. Then they created the Afterans as well as the different acres for them to live in. They designed new creations that would replace them in maintaining the Ever After. This was how the Cat was created. They later created the Jabberwalker as a form of destruction. However, the two disagreed on whether it disrupted the balance or not and began to wage war.

OSCAR: (scoffs) What else is new?

RUBY: The Blacksmith told us how balance isn’t supposed to be two opposing forces locked in battle; balance is an ecosystem, an organism, and a living thing, thus balance isn’t restored with force or manipulation, it’s restored naturally, requiring love and patience to see it through to the end. The Gods got to Remnant because the Ever After created a door to a “greater beyond” for the Gods, so they can leave and experiment in creating new worlds as much as they like.

NORA: (snickering) So the Tree basically said, “You think you have life sorted out? Then get out of my house”?

RUBY: Pretty much.

TEAM RWBY, JAUNE, AND REMNANT ALLIANCE:

YANG: (wiping a tear) Oh, my Gods, that’s such a hilarious way of looking at it. Thanks, Nora.

RUBY: Anyway, the Blacksmith told us that we have impacted the Ever After significantly; just like Somewhat, Alyx, and Lewis, and that the Cat caused a bad impact, and then she made us a portal in the desert on the outskirts of the city, and now you’re all caught up.

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ilovescaredysquirrel2 · 1 month

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Unpopular opinion: Dirty Dan shows should be banned

Okay, I felt this way for a long time but I feel like after that "Quiet on the set" documentary, we ALL know what Dirty Dan Schneider did to the children who worked on his nasty, perverted shows and movies. I'm sorry if these were your "childhood favorites" which is a bunch of bullcrap because it was part of my childhood too. My grandma and I used to think Cat was so cool on Victorious, and we liked the songs, although there were some moments that made us question why people would put such rubbish jokes in a kids show. The songs are great, but if you watch it for "nostalgia", which I can't do after knowing what Dan did, just search the songs up in the nightcore playlists on YouTube. Victorious should be BANNED along with all of Dan's sows and and movies. I think iCarly and Good Burger were the worst of all, and those of you who say otherwise, I think you don't realize how much abuse these kids went through on set and how disgusting the "humor" was in these shows. I think iCarly should get banned first, but everything that Dan Schneider worked on should be banned. and I mean EVERYTHING!

Okay, I'm 21 and hate adult humor shows... I know it's weird but I'm from the generation that had shows like Little Bear, Maggie and the Ferocious Beast, Marvin the Tap-Dancing, and ToddWorld (those last two shows you probably never heard of, look them up) and I'm not used to that Family guy/Ren & stimpy type humor. In fact, Ren & Stimpy is another show I think should be banned. John K was just like Dan Schneider in a way, he was a huge p*do too. I'm also not saying that dirty jokes in kids shows are a bad thing, subtle dirty jokes are okay, but don't take the "adult humor" too far. They take the dirty jokes way too far in those shows. I hope one day we will stop putting perverted, fetishy stuff in kids shows. Some example of subtle dirty jokes would be like the "Could you imagine teaching those kids how to ride a corndog?" thing from Marvin the tap-dancing Horse, and the "I'm trying to admire some heavenly bodies" "Wow you can see the beach through that thing? Let me look" from CatDog. Those were subtle dirty jokes for parents, but we know they were talking about something that wasn't for kids. The shows like iCarly and Ren & Stimpy just had the most perverted, fetishy crap ever that it wasn't even watchable.. especially since iCarly characters were underage. There's other Nickelodeon shows I do have problems with, but that's for a different day.

Jeanette McCurdy wasn't the only victim and just because she spoke out and wrote a book about it, doesn't mean that it only happened to her. The other girls were offered hush money. I do think Jeanette probably suffered the worst, though. I think Amanda Bynes (voice of Piper in Robots, if you don't know who she is) had it bad too. I'm sure she had fun voicing in Robots, but she obviously went through abuse on the Dirty Dan shows that she was on. Dirty Dan gave her "The Amanda show" so that she could be the star because that creepy jerk was obsessed with her. Also, Miranda Cosgrove (if you don't know who that is, she was Margot in Despicable Me and Sam in Mouse Tale) also went through abuse by Dirty Dan too. Practically everyone was abused by Dirty Dan Schnieder. He didn't just have a foot fetish either, he literally R*PED underage girls! He also held pool parties and refused to invite their parents... if that doesn't sound suspicious, I don't know what does.

I also have opinions on Disney movies I think we should cancel, however, those are old movies and I know more people have nostalgia for them, and they could be a good learning point for people to see how far we've come (like, Peter Pan and Song of the South absolutely disgust me, but they can be used as a learning thing on why we shouldn't make movies like this anymore). I'd like to see them get banned eventually though, however more people have nostalgia for those than iCarly and stuff, and I just think we need to ban iCarly (and Dan's other shows) first.

If you disagree I'd like to hear your opinion on why you disagree with me. If you agree, let me know your thoughts. I'm still mad that they removed an innocent episode of SpongeBob from Paramount plus, yet you can watch Victorious and iCarly on there. It doesn't make sense... we should start a riot or boycott for Paramount Plus or something. WE NEED TO COMPLAIN! I don't want any other kid in the world to see an episode of iCarly, Victorious, Sam & Cat, Henry Danger, All That, Kenan & Kel, Thundermans, whatever else Dan Schneider worked on! PLEASE! If you see your kids or younger sibling watching one of those shows, turn it off immediately and try to get those awful shows removed for good!

Yeah, sorry for the rant, again, if you disagree, I'd like to hear why. Try convincing me that these shows don't need to be banned.

#my thoughts #my rant #icarly should be banned #shows i think should be canceled #nickelodeon

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omgrenhasfriends · 1 year

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i'm imagining all these yandere friends living in the same house which got me wondering.. what would their rooms look like? and does their MC live with them too

Ezra: The ever so edgy brat has an all black bedroom. His bed has a full canopy with black-out curtains and like 70 pillows. He has a drafting table and a huge bookshelf full of partially made miniatures for Eliana. Very tidy! Ezra would adore it if Sugar lived with them <3

Krow: Art. Art everywhere. It'd look more like a studio than a proper bedroom. Easels, paintings, tables with all kinds of art supplies, some work in progress sculpture being done. It may come as a surprise but he keeps it pretty tidy and organized. He would decorate it with whatever Dove decides to give him, his bed is pretty modest. But if Dove and him are in a relationship he would see to upgrade to a queen at least. :3

Ren: Constantly has the lights off and the AC going in his room, but it's purely for cooling down his laptop, 4 monitors, PC console and twin computer servers. And despite the amount of tech everywhere, his cable management is impeccable. Ren has a few horror/slasher movie posters on his wall, along with a large bed covered with a few 'Attack on Giant' plushies. If Angel wanted to live with him instead, he'd be more than willing take it all down and let them choose what decorations they'd like! ^^;

River lots of band posters and vinyl covers on the wall, random drumsticks laying about, and a bunch of workout equipment stored in a corner. River might be the messiest out of the bunch, but that's only because he forgets to make his bed every morning and bring out his empty sports drinks. he'd pass away on the spot if Bunny wanted to live with him, but he'd definitely rearrange his entire room so that it's more convenient for them and their preferences.

Eddie: A minimalistic room where the color theme is dark and basic, and everything is extremely spotless. Neat and ironed black bedsheets with grey and white fluffed pillows, dark wood and marble furnitures polished. The only personality this room has is pictures of his family on the wall and tables. It’s also extremely cold. MC would have to be in a relationship with him to move in with him and he wouldn’t mind letting them bring some stuff to personalize the room but only a corner until they can prove they’ll help clean their area.

Diva: Never has her actual light on so her room is always lit with led lights and neon signs. A huge magenta pink star shaped bed in the middle with pink ad black animal print sheets and star pillows to match (decorated with a ton of Sanrio and aquatic animal plushies)She has a gaming setup with 3 monitors and a classic pink gaming chair with the expensive gaming keyboard and mouse. Her room is usually a little messy with clothes strewn around the room and posters/photos around the walls. Diva would be ecstatic if MC wanted to live with her! But uh,,, there’s not much space for them to decorate ^^

Fone: probably something very cutesy, lots of animal plushies and fairy lights in his room so he always have his lights off. his bed is in the corner cause he's afraid of ghost and the room is big enough so that mallow has enough space for himself in the corner along with his electric guitar. he has a small table next to him that is brimmed with snacks and drinks and a shelf on top of said table filled with felt dolls he had made of his friends. it should gives you a comfy vibe... if it weren't for the 24/7 ac and mountain and mountain of unwashed clothes at the end corner of his bed smh

Illow: while they know ren can afford the ridiculous high amount of rent, they're still a very power-saving kind of person so based on the lights on their room alone you should know what they're doing. they're more goth-like with their true selves so their room is very dark, not all black like ezra but a more aesthetic pastel-muted type (think of asexual flag colors), they even have a giant kuromi plush right besides their bed. Have a few posters up on their wall, they're more for aesthetic purposes so if you asked them which potter house they belong to they won't know what you're talking about, they also have a lot of game consoles lying around, all of which are new models cause they're a collector.

Theo: His room looks… normal, pretty much. Other than, of course, his closet filled with pictures of his love… his decorations consist of movie and band posters and framed pictures of him and his friends. If his love lived with him… well, that’d be a dream come true, wouldn’t it? He’d constantly try and keep his room clean, just in case his love decided to poke their head in.

#💔 - Restart Heart #🔪 - About Ezra #🐁 - About Fone #🧸 - About Illow #14 Days With You #Ren #unsent memories #River #The Krow's Nest #Krow #Bared Teeth #character: theo #Honey Hotline #Your Comfort Pillow #Hot Killer Babes #Eddie #Diva #Queue

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sonicasura · 3 months

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Here's another crack idea that popped into my head. Persona 5's Ren Amamiya/Joker being the biological son of Pizza Tower's Peppino Spaghetti.

Is it dumb? Yes. Is it absurdly stupid and insane? Yes. Do I regret this? FUCK NO. Let Joker be half crazy Italian with an even more nutty father who WILL pile drive god if he has to. Also his last name for this shall be Spaghetti, Amamiya being his middle, cause I ain't half assing things.

(Putting a link to Part 2 here and make sure people check the reblogs for this as I added an extra page!)

Peppino is the anxious father that does his best to raise his kid despite the various issues he has to face. Whether it be finding a decent school, make sure there's some money for a little rare treat, or keep Ren's awful mother from breaking shared custody rules. Do not trifle with this man.

Any rat/mouse/raccoon in the restaurant? Those are Ren's pets who eat the insects and scare off the bad customers. (Kid does lemonade stands to buy pet friendly soap alongside basic necessities.) Peppino doesn't question it since they make his son happy and take care of the pests.

Ren absolutely helped around the pizzeria whenever he could. First time Peppino cries is when his kid made his first pizza. The second being a 12 year old Ren getting him a well made chef's hat for a birthday present. (You can say our boy already has Rank 3 proficiency.)

All the Pizza Tower weirdness can be considered normal for Joker as he doesn't exactly come from the Personaverse. (I wholeheartedly believe in Ren being a sheer cryptid, even more after seeing this comic.) His mother just dumped him there during her turn and left Ren in that neighborhood where he comes across Shido. Yes, Peppino absolutely lost it when his precious little Spaghetti didn't come home that night.

He looked everywhere for Ren and the events of Pizza Tower only put a big fat Stop Sign to that for quite awhile. Meanwhile the younger Spaghetti didn't have a fun time adjusting until Persona 5 truly kicked off. He wasn't thrown in a rigged court trial.

Ren just knocked Shido's lights out then fucking outran the cops like his Pops would on a 3rd lap game wise. He finds Leblanc and camps out there for two months. Well until Sojiro barely manages to drag Ren inside as his sanity(heart) couldn't handle this strange homeless teen facing the harsh elements. The kid running like an insane Usain Bolt when startled didn't help too.

Ren is absolutely homesick thus his Persona get to hear it the most. (I'm aware of the sheer irony with a French Persona having an half Italian wielder.) Arséne is very curious to meet Ren's father at some point and cackled upon hearing his charge's antics.

The other Thieves have no clue about how bizarre their leader's origins is. Funnily enough, Haru wholeheartedly believes in Ren's stories despite even Morgana considering it a crazy tall tale. (She got rewarded with a video of an 8 year old Ren having a breakdancing contest against his dad while sentient pizza toppings cheered them on.) The guy doesn't blame his other friends and is instead waiting for the chance to blow their minds like the gremlin he is.

Well Ren can thank Royal's Third Semester cause guess who shows up for the true boss fight?! A wild Peppino at Mach 4 speed about to pile drive his kid's former councilor. Haru is the only person not gawking when Ren's dad drags the unconscious man out before FINALLY being able to hug his kid.

Joker gets an extra gift than just him and his friends being able to keep their Persona. He can now visit everyone with a simple press of his phone. Sojiro and Peppino absolutely butt heads in a mostly friendly father flavored rivalry. (Ren doesn't notice at first as he's too busy showing One Shot Kill Medjed to Gustavo.)

Peppino absolutely fainted when his son drops an entire suitcase with enough money to not only pay off the debt but to even refurbish the diner and still have cash leftover. Maximum money perks can make Mementos a good place to grind. Ren always converted a chunk of his spoils to the appropriate currency so he can help his dad.

Peppino's Pizzeria is a secondary hangout for the Phantom Thieves and absolutely gets subjected to Persona shenanigans. Game Night is for everyone despite the fact Carmen/Milady/Arséne tend to cheat at cards. Peppino takes it as an excuse to do it too.

The older Spaghetti does his best to support his son and his friends. Whether it be making pizza that grant great stat buffs, help in battle if Ren can find a Golden Pizza Cutter whenever traversing a dungeon or offer some simple advice. Peppino will continue to drop kick anyone who gets in the way of that.

And this anxiety driven beat shall play at maximum volume.

youtube

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after-witch · 7 months

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Horrorfest: I'm a Mouse, Duh [Yandere TPOF!Ren (Fox) x Reader]

Title: I'm a Mouse, Duh [Yandere TPOF!Ren (Fox) x Reader]

Synopsis: Fox wants you in just the right costume for his party.

For Horrorfest request:

Fox making his darling try on different "sexy" Halloween costumes

Word Count: 1291

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, a bit of humiliation/degradation, descriptions of previous injuries including eye gouging, questionable taste in Halloween costumes

You didn’t know you could feel anything like shame anymore, but there it was, red-hot, covering your cheeks, not unlike a thin, sticky layer of latex that you couldn’t peel off yourself.

Speaking of--

“Turn around,” Fox murmurs, idly swirling his glass of champagne while you swiftly obey his words.

You turn ever so slowly, because you know what’s what he wants to see. You imagine you’re a doll in a music box, sans music and static ballerina pose, spinning slowly enough to let him get a look at his newest handiwork.

The skin-tight latex cat costume does wonders in keeping your movements slow as well, but you try to ignore that part and stay in the music box metaphorical fantasy.

He sighs lowly--your stomach roils--and shakes his head.

“No, not quite right.”

He gives you another once-over, and you must be frowning, because he continues in a casually reassuring tone. “Not that you don’t look lovely, but it’s not what I want for tonight.” What he wants, in this case, is unclear. You’ve already tried on 3 different costumes, and he didn’t care for any of them.

He gestures with his free hand at your hand, and you dutifully remove the latex cat ears (that matched your outfit, of course) and hand them over.

He sets them on the table and beckons you over.You eagerly scamper over, turning away from him; you really did need help removing the thin layer of latex. At least he does it swiftly, though you feel a veneer of sweat on your back when he begins to peel it away. He continues pulling it down until you lift each of your legs, stepping out of the tight concoction with a visible sigh of relief.

There’s a warm chuckle behind you, and you shiver when you feel his nails lightly raking down your back.

When he stands and makes his way over to the long costume rack that one of his employees brought in, you follow. He thumbs through them, humming, pulling a few out now and then.

He pulls out a black and white lacy concoction, something that looks like the type of clothing people world in olden days. A big felt sword hangs off the flimsy top and there’s a large tricorn hat attached to the hanger, and it takes you a moment to realize what the costume is meant to be.

A pirate.

He smiles, but you don’t. Your empty eye socket suddenly aches and your lip trembles. Which just makes him grin a little.

“Too on the nose, huh?” He taps his finger above your eye patch, a neutral black cloth for now. Fox said he wanted to pick your costume before they went about choosing what prosthetic or patch to give you.

You suppose he wants you to care that he’s taking the time to find you the right costume, that he wants you to be appreciative that he’s putting so much effort into it. And when you suppose what he wants, you do your best to fulfill it. That’s how you’ve made it this far.

So you look closer every time you think he might be choosing a costume and you try (pirate mistake notwithstanding) to mimic his reactions. This one is cute, mm-hmm. That one won’t do, nuh-uh.

Maybe you would be appreciative, maybe even a bit excited about the idea of getting to dress up on Halloween, if you weren’t dreading tonight. You were going to attend a Halloween party with him. Thrown by him. Populated by the guests he chose.

You weren’t putting on a show (that fear had already been cooingly whisked away, the moment you broke down into seizure-like sobs at the thought) but you would be… on display.

Like a pet. No, no, that’s not entirely right, is it? You are a pet. You’ve got the collar to prove it.

What would the people at the party be like? As bad as the ones who watched the show? Worse, because they were there in person and not just through a screen? Maybe some of them would be the same… would any of them recognize you? Would they hurt you? Would Fox let them hurt you? What if--

“Ah! This one!” He says, pulling you out of your heavy thoughts. There’s a glint of excitement in his voice that makes the tension in your stomach ease off.

When he gets excited like this, it’s a good sign. Usually it’s related to finding out that you like some of the same things as him (you genuinely enjoyed, at least as much as you could, curling up on a sofa and watching anime with him) or you surprising him in a way that pleases him.

Sometimes he seems younger when he gets like this, more carefree. There’s a pang of envy when that happens, but you never let it last too long.

He pulls out the costume he’s chosen and shoves it into your waiting, slightly trembling, arms. You don’t even have time to really see what he chose.

“Quick now.” He flashes a muted grin. “The guests will arrive soon enough. Don’t want to be late for your first party.”

You don’t waste time getting dressed. The end result, when you stand up and let him zip up the back of the costume, is cuter than you expected. It’s a mouse costume, a short little gray number with a black tail hanging off the edge. The costume covers your ass enough that as long as you don’t bend over, you should be fine.

(You try not to think of ways that Fox might make you bend over in front of others. But then, he didn’t like it much when others were around you, so maybe he didn’t want you to show off more than necessary? The questions are really too difficult to consider for long.)

The finishing touch is a big pair of cutesy gray mouse ears that he tenderly places on your head. It’s the type of costume that you might have worn on a night out with friends, before. Though you’d have worn something else underneath, and you’d definitely still have two eyes.

Still. It’s better than the tight catsuit.

And you look... cute. If you ignore the missing eye, and the scars on your face. And the cauterized nail wounds dotting your body. And the cross-cross of scars, old and new, lining your arms and legs.

These are all things you have gradually forced yourself to ignore, so yes, you can put them aside and appreciate the way that the mouse ears frame your face or the way that the costume is made from nice materials.

You can ignore the hungry gaze of Fox standing behind you, keeping his eyes on your own as you stare at your reflection.

“Perfect,” he murmurs, standing behind you and looking at the finished product through your reflection. In the mirror, you see him place a kiss on your neck. Your body recognizes what will happen before your brain does, because your shoulder tenses even before he bites your skin harshly, lapping at the blood he leaves behind.

“We can leave the patch as-is,” he says. You’re too busy staring at your reflection to answer. Maybe he takes it for being pouty, because he continues. “Unless you want one of your prosthetics tonight?”

How nice of him to ask, you think, and your heart feels sick when you realize the thought came without a trace of sarcasm. You’re really fucked up, huh?

You shake your head and give a little smile, looking at him in the mirror.

“No,” you say, voice meeker than you meant it to be. “Whatever you think looks best, sir.”

He smiles, just a little. An intimate smile, a you’re-being-good smile, the kind you think (you hope) he reserves just for moments like this. And then he places a tender kiss on your bite wound. Bits of red stick to his lips and he licks them away, sighing low and almost husky.

You know this sound, these gestures, the way his breath quickens and comes out of his nose. You feel two hands grope your ass and you squeak, like the mouse you might as well be.

“I suppose it won’t hurt if we’re a little late… it is my party after all.”

#yandere ren hana #ren hana x reader #the price of flesh #tpof #tpof ren #yandere #afterwitch writes #aw horrorfest

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moistmailman · 1 year

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Persona AU where Jaune is a 'prodigy' young detective that's trying to find the Phantom Thieves but due to his dumbassness he has no idea that Pyrrha and her friend group are the Phantom Thieves.

Jaune: You know what I just realized. The Phantom Thieves first debut was around the time you first moved here, right? Like maybe a few weeks after?

Pyrrha, sweating nervously: W-well uhm, l-life sure is full of coincidences?

Jaune, smiling: They sure are, huh?

*LATER*

Jaune: Hey, Wasnt the Phantom Thieves first victim a professor that went to your school that you had a problem with? I believe there was even a rumor he was going to expel you.

Pyrrha, nervously: U-uh, y-yeah. Now I know what you're thinking-

Jaune: It's no wonder you're such a fan of them, despite them being criminals. They really saved your skin.

Pyrrha, awkwardly:.....you got me. Fell in love with them ever since. Haha, they're so cool hahaha....

*LATER*

Jaune, scratching his chin: You know, your handwriting looks suspiciously like one of the calling cards the Phantom Thieves sent to one of the victims.

Pyrrha, nervously: W-what? I-I don't see it at all.

Jaune: I do. You even put hearts over i's just like that card.

Pyrrha: U-uh....well, I uhm.....you see I......

Jaune: I think it's safe to assume that one of the members is a young woman too then. Possibly around our age even.

Pyrrha:....I think you're onto to something. Nothing gets past you, huh Jaune?

*LATER*

Jaune: Hey, I was walking in town the other day. I saw you, Yang, Nora, Ren, Sun, Ruby, Blake and Weiss and some dog disappear randomly out of thin air.

Pyrrha, practically shitting bricks:........

Jaune: Yeah, it was right after you checked your scroll too, right outside Cinder Falls' building.

Pyrrha:.......

Jaune: Was that a street performance? Kinda weird you didn't have an audience though but who am I to judge? How did you do it though?

Pyrrha: OKAY ARE YOU PLAYING A GAME OF CAT AND MOUSE WITH ME?!

Jaune: W-what?

#rwby #pyrrha nikos #jaune arc #arkos #lie ren #nora valkyrie #yang xiao long #sun wukong #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #rwby au #cinder fall

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somethingusefulfromflorida · 6 months

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If you're looking for some indie novels to get you into the Halloween mood, let me recommend the works of my friend Ren Montgomery. She's self-published over on Amazon, and I want to get the word out for her three books.

Horror

Haunt is a period piece set in the late 1970s. It tells the story of the Stewarts, a dysfunctional family who are looking for a fresh start in a brand new housing development, but the trauma they bring with them feeds into something sinister within the house itself. Pete is an abusive alcoholic, Mae is a lapsing fundamentalist at her wits' end, and their three young girls Kelly, Robin, and Lori are just trying to get through the new school year without slitting each others' throats.

Ren explores what it means to have faith when your views don't line up with what your Church dictates, and when those in power don't have your best interest at heart. Haunt is about the ties that bind a struggling family together, for better, or more often for worse, and the pain they face while trying to break the cycle of abuse. The presence which darkens the doorstep of the Stewarts' new haunt heightens their worst impulses and brings each and every one of them to their personal breaking point.

Haunt is both terrifying and gripping, and the 70s setting permeates every aspect of the plot; it doesn't feel like a modern story with a nostalgic 1970s coat of paint over it, it feels like something straight out of the dingy, smoke-filled, no-seatbelts-or-airbags era, an oft forgotten aspect of the decade that so many authors struggle to capture on page.

Contemporary fantasy

Monsters Are We is a story about burning bridges, both accidentally and on purpose. With some relationships, when the passion is gone, you can cut your losses and go your separate ways, but Penelope Draven doesn't have that option. Her old life with Leo the soul-sucking cheater needs to come to an end so her new life can begin.

She's danced this dance before, but this time around is going to be much more difficult for two very important reasons. First, she finally has something that makes her hesitate before throwing it all away, something she wants desperately to take with her when she goes; her teenage daughter, Clementine. Second, Leo knows what she is, what she's done, and what she's capable of, and he's not going to let either of them go so easily.

Ren explores the relationship between a mother and daughter from two very different generations, but who are more like one another than either realize. Monsters Are We is about figuring out who you are and choosing who you want to be. It's about being allowed to make irreparable mistakes so you can learn from them. The Draven girls find themselves on a road trip to hell and back which puts their lives and the lives of their closest friends into Leo's crosshairs. When they find themselves down on their luck, Penelope knows how to make her own, but it comes with a price.

Psychological thriller

Drawn to You is the story of the one that got away and one woman's twisted machinations to try and get it back. Ruby Deardon never got over her college crush, Sean Chaplin. They could have had something beautiful, Ruby tells herself, if only they had had anything at all. The timing was never right, the dominoes never fell the way she needed them to, so she lost her chance at her fairy tale happy ending.

Well, after nearly a decade of pining from a distance she decides to take matters into her own hands and insert herself back into Sean's life so they can finally have the life she's always wanted. He wants it too, she's sure of it, he just doesn't know it yet.

But just as she's about to zero in on Sean, she learns that Jeremy is zeroing in on her. She's was his one that got away, and while most women would be wary of his level of obsession, Ruby sees him as nothing but an obstacle standing between her and the future she's set her mind on. Jeremy is an unexpected dog in Ruby's game of cat and mouse, but cats have claws, and he has no idea what she's willing to do to make sure the mouse gets got.

#horror #contemporary fantasy #psychological thriller #novels #books #book recommendations #indie books #self publishing #halloween #halloween season #halloween books #halloween novels

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anonymousewrites · 5 months

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Of Two Worlds (Book 3) Chapter Eleven

Fushiguro Megumi x Half-Curse! Reader

Chapter Eleven: Torn

Summary: Everything just gets so much worse, and (Y/N) makes a decision. So do other people.

Mouse Note: I'll be taking another pause from here since I need to see more of the manga to decide how things go :) I hope you guys understand. Thank you for reading so far with me! (Also, I'm sorry about today)

An earthquake shook the ground and punctuated (Y/N)’s words. She was absolutely right; Gojo was already on a search to confront Kenjaku. From the city nearby, the buildings trembled, and several still standing crumbled from the force. Gojo’s power was as formidable as ever.

(Y/N) turned and ran towards the city without saying anything to anyone. She wasn’t going to stand there if there was a chance to face Kenjaku (and Sukuna).

“(L/N)!” called Itadori in alarm.

Nanami took off after (Y/N), and several others followed her. The sounds of blows being exchanged was clear as soon as they entered the city. (Y/N) only stopped moving when she arrived at the edge of a battlefield where Kenjaku and Gojo stood across from each other. (Y/N) wanted to step forward, but Nanami grabbed her and pulled her back.

“No,” he said sternly. “Let Gojo handle this.”

(Y/N)’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t like not being able to fight Kenjaku when there was a chance.

But everyone else could see Gojo’s gaze as he looked down at Kenjaku. His jacket was torn, and his blindfold was gone. His piercing blue eyes were focused, and he lacked a smile. No one could tell what Gojo was going to do, and with power such as his, it was best to let him move first.

(Y/N) was the only one who didn’t give a damn, but she wasn’t going to fight against Nanami. (That, and she was saving her energy for when Sukuna appeared).

“It’s been a while, no?” said Kenjaku, smirking at Gojo. “Have a nice rest?”

“I think you should pick your words more wisely.” Gojo looked down upon Kenjaku. “They’re about to be your last.”

Limitless activated, and red struck down at Kenjaku, but it collided into something midair. Everyone squinted against the wind and light until it cleared. Gojo landed and narrowed his eyes at the new arrival who had blocked his attack.

“Heh. I’ve got a new body, but I’m still gonna kill you,” said Sukuna, standing across from Gojo in a yukata of black and white. Ren and Uraume stood beside him.

(Y/N)’s eyes widened, and her curse marks glowed faintly as her emotions were sent into a whirl upon seeing Megumi’s face again. Sukuna was still manipulating him and treating his body as his own, and (Y/N) despised it. The hatred she felt for Sukuna was deeper than any other she had ever felt. He was trying to take Megumi from her.

Gojo’s eyes narrowed, but he grinned wildly. “You ran away from Yuuji and (Y/N), but now you wanna talk tough? How sad, dude!”

“How dare you?” hissed Uraume, narrowing their eyes as frost collected around them.

Gojo moved faster than the eye could see and struck Uraume, sending them flying before they could activate their technique. Ren caught them and dodged the next blow from Gojo as Mastermind calculated his next attack.

“Tch. You again,” said Gojo as he regarded her. She had helped imprison him in the Prison Realm, and it was clear her intelligence was formidable.

Ren didn’t respond and kept a watch on Uraume. They were her priority, not Gojo. Not when there was too much for her and Uraume to worry about already. She glanced at the other watchers of the confrontation.

Sukuna tensed, and his cursed energy activated to retaliate against Gojo for attacking his spouse and wife. (Y/N)’s cold cursed energy collected, and a katana began to form in her hand as she readied herself to join the fight. Damn Kenjaku and Gojo’s power, she wanted to force Sukuna out of Megumi’s body.

“Wait, Sukuna,” said Kenjaku, jumping down beside Sukuna. “Keep your promise to me before fighting him.”

Sukuna and (Y/N)’s cursed energy dissipated as the beginning of the fight was interrupted.

Gojo smirked. “The almighty Sukuna is taking orders from that patched up old bag?” However, he was disguising his true thoughts. Clearly, Kenjaku and Sukuna were close in some sort of binding vow. That presented problems Gojo would need to handle.

Sukuna paused and sighed dramatically. “Very well.”

“What’s the date?” said Gojo.

“November nineteenth,” said Kenjaku.

“What say we do this December twenty-fourth?” suggested Gojo.

(Y/N)’s eyes widened. Was Gojo really organizing a time to fight Sukuna? What about saving Megumi? What about bringing him back? Gojo was throwing that away.

“Ha!” Kenjaku laughed. “Isn’t it gross to make plans with each other on Christmas Eve?”

“Well, having two death anniversaries would be confusing,” said Gojo.

(Y/N)’s curse marks had energy coursing through them in an icy reminder of what Gojo was suggesting. Fighting Sukuna. Killing Sukuna. Killing Megumi.

“You don’t expect to lose?” said Kenjaku.

“Hah.” Gojo smirked and looked steadily upon Kenjaku. “No.”

Sukuna smirked. “We shall see.”

Then he turned away and jumped out of the pit with Ren and Uraume behind him. Kenjaku gave Gojo a wave, turned to face the watchers above, smirked at (Y/N) who narrowed her eyes in response, and left.

Gojo waited until the curses were gone before leaving the battlefield. Instantly, the group of sorcerers waiting for him ran to meet him.

“Gojo-sensei!” cried Itadori, running up to hug him.

Gojo smiled at Itadori, relieved to see that at least one of his students was relatively alright. Just by looking over everyone else he could tell that so much had gone wrong since he was sealed.

“Welcome back,” said Ieri, smiling slightly. Maki nodded to him.

“It’s about time,” said Nanami.

“It is,” said Gojo, smiling.

His eyes passed over the group. His gaze saddened upon seeing Maki and Nanami’s scars, and his eyes widened as he saw Tsumiki awake and present at the back of the group. Sadly, she had not been seen by Megumi, and Sukuna had retained the tight control he had over the boy’s soul.

And then his eyes landed on (Y/N), and he was met with a completely different girl than the one he had when he had left. (Y/N)’s gloves were gone, leaving an array of curse marks bare to the air, and her hair was partly white. The most extreme change, however, was her eyes. Instead of an emotionless expression, there was a cold fury as she gazed at him.

“(Y/N)?” he said, almost questioning if this was the same student he had before.

“Are you really going to kill Sukuna?” said (Y/N).

“Yes,” said Gojo.

“What about Megumi?” asked Tsumiki, clasping her hands together.

“You know your brother. He’d want to protect you and everyone else first. If that means killing Sukuna, then you know what he’d be willing to risk,” said Gojo.

“Sacrifice Megumi to kill Sukuna?” hissed (Y/N), clenching her fists. Her emotions were raging within her and spilled out in a way she never allowed herself to show to others.

“Yes,” said Gojo. He gazed at (Y/N), saddened. “You know it’s what he’d want.”

“I don’t care what he would want,” said (Y/N) fiercely. “I want to save Megumi.”

Itadori looked down. “(L/N), I know how Fushiguro feels right now.” He too had been willing to sacrifice himself to kill Sukuna.

“And I said I don’t care,” snapped (Y/N), whirling on Itadori. Her eyes blazed silver.

“(Y/N),” said Gojo. “I’m doing what’s necessary to protect the world.”

“What about protecting Megumi?” said (Y/N).

“The world is more important,” said Gojo.

(Y/N)’s eyes narrowed, bright silver irises piercing into Gojo’s blue. “You might be willing to sacrifice the people you care about, but I’m not.”

Gojo started at the sharp words.

“I won’t sit here and watch you kill Megumi,” said (Y/N), clenching her fists.

“Sukuna has consumed his soul already,” said Gojo softly, sadly.

“No. Megumi’s still alive,” said (Y/N).

Gojo’s eyes softened. (Y/N) was unwilling to see the truth that he could see. Megumi was gone. “(Y/N)—”

“I would know if he was gone,” said (Y/N). She held her hand over her heart. “I would know. But he’s not. I can feel it.”

“It took me time to realize the Suguru I knew was gone, too,” said Gojo softly. “I understand, (Y/N).”

“If you understand, then you know I won’t stand by while you fight Sukuna and risk killing Megumi,” said (Y/N).

“(Y/N), you can’t fight Sukuna,” said Gojo.

“You don’t know what I can and can’t do,” said (Y/N), and her curse marks lit up.

“(Y/N).” Nanami reached out to (Y/N). “Don’t go running into a battle you can’t win. Fushiguro-kun wouldn’t want you getting hurt.”

(Y/N) paused and looked at Nanami. Now that did get to her. Megumi wouldn’t want her running into battle and getting herself killed. (Y/N) knew that. But…

“I can’t sit by and support Gojo hurting him,” said (Y/N). She took a step back. “I won’t.”

“What are you doing, (Y/N)?” asked Tsumiki.

“I’m leaving.”

Itadori’s eyes widened with Tsumiki’s, and Nanami started. Gojo gazed at (Y/N) worriedly.

“You’re what?” he said.

“I’m leaving,” repeated (Y/N), gazing at Gojo steadily. “I refuse to watch you hurt Megumi.”

“(Y/N),” said Gojo, reaching out to her.

“I’m sorry,” said (Y/N), backing away. “But I can’t stay here if it means supporting Megumi getting killed.” She crouched, and cursed energy condensed around her.

“(Y/N)!” said Nanami, reaching out to the girl he viewed as his own daughter, and she cast a sad look at him. Nanami’s eyes widened, and he tried to grab her, but she leapt into the air and disappeared into the city. “(Y/N)!”

She refused to look back again.

(Y/N) came to a stop within the city only when she felt new cursed energy around her. It was no one she knew, and she pivoted, striking through a wall of ice with her katana before it hit her. The monk, Uraume, that had been by Sukuna side stood a ways away from her.

“Here without your lord?” said (Y/N), glancing around her.

“Yes.”

(Y/N) whirled, but it was too late. The powerful attack from Uraume had obscured the subtler cursed energy of Ren, and she was behind (Y/N) already. She sunk a needle into the half-curse’s neck, and (Y/N) fell limp.

“Ordinarily, I’d not risk Uraume,” said Ren. “But to trap you…I needed to obscure your senses.”

“What’re you…” (Y/N) tried to force the words out, but her body was numb.

“Just relax,” said Ren, picking up (Y/N) and carrying her into the building.

All (Y/N) could do was look around herself at the building. It was an observatory with the canopy open to point at the moon and stars.

“It worked?”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened as Nox, her father, stepped out of the shadows.

“Yes,” said Ren as Nox took (Y/N) from her. “Uraume had to expend much of their energy, but they managed to obscure my cursed energy.” She glanced at (Y/N) before returning to look at Nox. “We’re fortunate it worked. A second time and her senses would have already adapted.”

“My children are fast learners,” said Nox, kneeling and supporting (Y/N).

“What…” (Y/N) tried to speak again, but the words just weren’t coming.

“Relax, my star,” said Nox, smiling gently at her. “This is all for the best.”

Ren glanced up at the moon in the sky. “It’s best to start now. This will take time, and the moon is at its zenith.”

Nox nodded and cupped (Y/N)’s face. “I promise, my star, everything is going to be alright. This time, I’ll protect you. I won’t lose you again.” He smiled kindly at his daughter.

And then Nox tore out (Y/N)’s heart.

She cried out, and her visions blurred as her body tried helplessly to keep going. “N-No…”

“It’s all going to be okay,” promised Nox, holding (Y/N)’s black heart in his hand.

(Y/N)’s eyes closed, and her body went limp. Her torso was broken open at the chest. Blood and gore fell from where her heart should be. However, within the cavern, the hint of stars stared out, like she held the sky itself inside her chest, making up for the lack of heart.

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