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#yandere carnage
knullanon · 1 year
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REDO: Symbiotes being assholes Part 2
yaya! I'm finally finished with this! I'm really tired rn and this week has been very hectic for me, so I'm happy that I was able ti finish it on time! I tried to base it around the work that I've done previously and stuff, so I hope you guys enjoy it :)
words: 4194 (not including the bonus at the end \^o^/)
warnings: kidnapping, arguing, yelling, blood, somebody dies, basically no privacy in the carnage household btw, lmk if I missed any!
summary: the aftermath of being taken once again has finally simmered down, and you live your life (mostly) peacefully.
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~~~
“________?”
You had opened your eyes, trying to see who was talking to you, but you only saw darkness. When you tried to respond, the only thing that came out was some kind of raspy breath. You internally cringed, but tried again, this time muttering out some gargled nonsense. 
“_____! My baby, you can hear me. Where are you?”
What? You couldn’t focus on anything, even the strange voice, and you covered your face with your arms. You could hear the voice say something else, something about where you were. But it was too late. Suddenly, everything around turned into nothing, and you felt yourself falling for a second, before “landing” on your bed. 
Your eyes shot open and you leaned on your elbow, trying to get rid of the dizziness in your head. What was that? Who was that?
“________, if you don’t open this damn door!”
Your mind suddenly remembered where you were, and you quickly jumped out of bed, ignoring your headache, and rushed to the door. You took off your makeshift ‘lock’ that was basically a bungee cord attached to your bedpost, before the door swung open, almost hitting you. 
Cletus stormed into the room, obviously very upset. “What the hell were you doing in here?” You wanted to roll your eyes. He took you, and now you’re expected to just do whatever he says? “I was having a bad dream. Couldn’t wake up.” He gave you a look, and you reiterated, “I’m serious! I couldn’t hear you!”
He gave you another look, before asking, “Are you sure that you weren’t just ignoring me?” You knew he was going to go this route. He had… control issues. Ever since you got here, it was not what you couldn’t do, it was what you could do. You could walk anywhere you wanted in the house, except the front room. You could watch TV anytime you wanted, or play any of the games that were there from the previous owners. Anything else was either off limits, or he needed to be with you to do so. 
“I’m not ignoring you, I swear. I didn’t know you were at the door, if I did I would’ve answered it.” You tried to plead with him, knowing that he would get angrier if you just argued with him. “Even if you were asleep, what’s with the lock? Do you not trust us?” He held the cord in his hand, letting it hang loosely from it. You shook your head, “I just want some privacy… Like, what if you had walked in on me when I was changing?”
He scoffed, and walked over to your bedpost, where the other end of the bungee cord was attached. He lifted it up, pulling it out from underneath. He dropped the bed with a loud bang. “Oh, don’t give me that. I knock, you know.” He wrapped the cord around his arm, before he pulled it off and began to walk back to the door. 
“I made you breakfast. If you don’t want it to get cold, you should put on a robe and come out.”
He closed the door, and left you to get ready, and let your thoughts simmer. You were angry. Not to the point you would show it, but more rather your mind was making fantasy arguments with itself. 
He can’t take it! It was ours, we made it ourselves! He’s violating our privacy! We just want some peace once in a while, is that too hard to ask?
You knew that making these little scenarios in your head wouldn’t help with your mood, so you tried to drop it. Instead, you wondered what you could do that day. You could clean up around the house a bit, or you could try to convince him again to let you cook something, maybe a small snack. 
Maybe you could even talk him into letting you outside. 
You took back the thought as soon as your mind brought it up. There was no way in hell he would ever let you outside, even with his supervision. He had too many people looking for him, too many people who would have no problems hurting you either. Of course, this is what he told you. You knew that he didn’t want you outside in case you tried to call for help or anything similar to it, but it still made you pissed that you were in the same situation as you were when you were with Eddie. 
Putting on your slippers, you quickly rushed out the door, not wanting to make him any more mad than he already was. 
---
The food Cletus had given you was good, you had to admit. You knew it wasn’t him who had cooked it, as he had stated he couldn’t cook very well, but probably Carnage, his own symbiote. You picked at the hashbrowns he had given you, not really eating, but also making it seem like you weren’t spacing out. Since Carnage had heightened senses that also passed to Cletus, it was hard for them to miss something about you. It reminded you of Venom, in a way.
Both Venom and Carnage were both extremely similar, both being symbiotes, having pretty much the same abilities, but that's really where their similarities ended. 
While Venom was much more patient and usually let you be in peace, Carnage was impatient and was even more controlling than Cletus. Carnage would sometimes just sit on his shoulder, and whisper into Cletus’ ear, telling him what he should do, what he should say. Sometimes, if you listened carefully you could hear it tell him random little things.
Carnage was also very much more present than Venom was. While you had assumed Venom just didn’t make himself appear because he thought you would be scared of him, Carnage had no such worries. They would sometimes just take over and talk to you randomly, usually about what you were doing or what you wanted to do. At the beginning, when you would try to argue with Cletus, they would take over and make you submit through sheer size, and lock you in your room using a chair. They wouldn’t let you out unless you apologized to both of them.
“Are you going to eat, or are you going to pout over your little lock?” 
You looked over, seeing that carnage was making more food, probably for you. You turned back to your own plate, and continued to eat your food. You heard a little ‘hmm’ from Carnage before they continued to make whatever they was making. 
Looking around, you saw the remote sitting on the other side of the table. You reached over the table, trying to grab it, but to no avail. You were about to get up to grab it, when it was taken from your sight. Carnage raised it above your hand, asking, “You could’ve asked us, you know.”
You shrugged. “You are busy making yourself breakfast.” Carnage rolled their eyes at that. “I’m making all this food for you, and all you can do is still be mad about that stupid lock. You know, we take care of you for free, and you treat us like this, all the time, every day.”
They walked back over to the stove, and grabbed the pan they were using. “Here, I hope this makes your attitude better.” They tilted it to your place, and a pancake slid off onto it. They walked back to the stove, putting the pan down, and pouring more of the mixture onto it.
You knew that they wouldn’t give you back the remote unless you apologized, so you quietly muttered, “I���m sorry.”
They stopped and turned around, still holding the remote. “What did you say?”
Trying not to grit your teeth, you said, “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
Just get it over with, _____, it won’t help for you to be petty. “I’m sorry for putting a lock on my door without asking you first.”
They smiled, their teeth gleaming in the light. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Apology accepted.”
They handed you the remote, before they turned back to the stove. You faced the TV, turning it on to the first channel.
“-and tonight, we have news on the supervillain Doctor Octopus, who was defeated with combined efforts, both Spiderman and Venom bringing him down. While Spideman was present after the attack for questions and the police, Venom quickly disappeared and officials are asking for any info on him to be reported to the police, or call this number-”
“Change it!” You didn’t think twice, changing it to the next channel. Another news program, this time showing some weather report on the city. You heard them grumble something, before Carnage said, “Better.”
That was another thing you had noticed from both Eddie and Venom, along with Cletus and Carnage. They both hated each other. While you weren’t aware of Carnage when you were with Eddie, you sure knew about their hatred towards each other when you were with Cletus and Carnage. They had told you their origin story about how Carnage was left behind by Venom and Eddie, and how Cletus had found them all alone, and they had joined together. You weren’t sure if it was true, but you were sure of their rivalry to each other.
However, it was also strange to see Eddie and Venom work so closely with Spiderman. You remembered Venom saying something about him, how he didn't know what he was doing. 
Suddenly, Carnage dropped another pancake on your plate, before they started putting all the dishes in the sink. When they was done, he turned back to you, asking, “Could you clean the dishes today, _____?"
You nodded, and they gave a small pat on the head. Carnage dissapeared, going under Cletus's skin. Cletus walked towards the coat rack, and grabbed his usual jacket. “We’ll be back, don’t worry: if you need any food, there’s snacks in the cupboards. Don’t use the stove or oven, you might burn yourself.”
With that, they walked to the door. “We’ll be back in a few hours!”
“Bye.” You said, more to yourself. When you heard the last click of the locks, you let out a sigh you didn’t realize you were holding. You finished your plate, and put it with the rest of the dishes, before you went to get ready.
---
He sat on his throne, angry, frustrated… a little fearful.
His baby was on some planet, with someone who was a known killer! He had no idea if they were alive, or if they were hurt, and the worst part was that no one could give him any damn answers. 
He looked down at the photo he had of you. It wasn’t even a good one, solely of your face. It was blurry, but he knew what he saw. His baby.
He placed the photo down in his lap, before he quickly summoned one of his guards. “Get ready.” He stood up, walking down the stairs from his throne. 
“Today is the day we will return to Earth, and take back what is ours.”
---
You knew something was up when Cletus came back earlier than expected. He had come back from his usual afternoon outing with groceries and the like, to tell you he hadn’t eaten anything all day (meaning he hadn’t eaten anyone that day). So he left again, making you your favorite sandwiches. He had promised you that he would make the both of you some pasta when he got back. So when he came back 3 hours early, and was an absolute mess, you knew something was wrong.
He was mindlessly putting things into different bags, and grabbing random things only to move them somewhere else. Carnage was on his shoulder, whispering things into his ear. He was muttering things back to them, still moving things frantically into bags.
You tried to talk to him, “Cletus, is something up?”
He had turned to you, saying, “Pack a bag or two. We’re leaving.” 
“What? Why?” You walked up to him, trying to see what Carnage was saying to him. You listened closely, “he’s coming here, they told us he was here, I don't care if it might be a fake, he is not someone to be messed with-"
He turned to face you, and you realized he looked like hadn’t slept in a week. You straightened your posture, trying not to act like you were just eavesdropping. “Pack a bag or two. We are leaving tonight, around 8 or 9. Sooner the better.”
You wanted to say something else, but he went back to packing. So you decided fuck it, if he wants to move so bad, they can. 
You grabbed the biggest bag you could find, and started picking clothes and belongings to bring with you.
---
The road was bumpy, and certainly not comfortable when you were trying to sleep. It was obvious that neither Cletus or Carnage wanted to see anyone during this trip, so they decided to go on the backroads, ones where you might see one or two other cars the whole way down. It also helped that it was nighttime, and there was barely any light to see in front of you, so even if there was someone else, they wouldn't really notice either of you, and just think of you as another car.
The whole time, Cletus was focused on the road. Carnage wasn’t even on his shoulder like they usually would. The whole time it was simply silence from the both of you. You didn’t know what Cletus was planning on doing, or if he even had a plan.
He was worried about something. You’ve never really seen him worried like this. Sure, he could get antsy or anxious when something was about to happen, but he was never actually fearful of anything. But you couldn’t tell from what, either. 
It might be the police. It might be someone who is after him. It might be Eddie and Venom. The thought of them suddenly brought you back to them, to the times you had shared with them. You could remember them arguing over something minimal while you ate whatever they had made for you that morning, listening to them bicker and sometimes silently laughing at their antics. 
It made you… sad. Not much. But just enough where your mood was brought down a little. Apparently, it was very noticeable to them.
“What are you frowning at? Don’t tell me you were attached to that place.” 
You looked out the window, trying to see if there was any light at all from the empty valley road you were driving on. “I’m not mad.”
He scoffed, “Well, something’s bothering you. What is it?”
You knew he wouldn’t be happy if he knew your real reason, so you quickly thought of something else that wouldn’t piss them off immediately. 
“Why are you so stressed?”
“About what?”
“This whole thing. Is someone after you?”
As soon as you said it, you knew you messed up from the simple shift in tone of the conversation. Cletus didn’t answer for a few seconds, opening his mouth and closing it again. Before you could ask him anything else, he said, “There… is something after us, yes.”
You turned to look at him, and you could see he was trying to avoid your gaze. You took the hint and turned back towards the road. “Do you know who?”
Cletus rolled his shoulders, and it was obvious he was extremely tired or strained.
“I do. It’s not someone who’s easy to avoid.”
The road was becoming less rough and janky. You realized that you were on a highway, the nearby areas completely flat, with some rock formations here and there. It was a stark contrast to the forests you had seen on the way there.
“Where are we going, anyway?” Deciding to move on, you realized that making him talk about it would make things worse. You could at least try to find out everything else.
“Other side of the country. I know a safe house. Not really a house, but Carnage says it's still there.” 
You didn’t realize that you were going to be so far from home. You tried to remember your family, your real family. There were bits and pieces, but in the months that you’ve been gone, it was harder to remember anything about your family. In fact, you’ve barely thought about them. It made you wonder if they even remembered you at all. Were they still looking for you? Did they even care at this point? 
“Get some sleep: It’s almost one in the morning. I’ll wake you up when I find a place to rest.”
Looking around and realizing that there probably wasn’t going to be anything for miles, you closed your eyes and slowly fell asleep.
---
When you woke up, there was blood over the windshield. That got you up pretty fast. You turned to ask what happened, but Cletus nor Carnage wasn’t there. You peeked out from the window, and saw that he was over someone, probably dead already, and he was eating them. 
You pulled yourself back down, and sighed. You wanted to just fall back asleep, but you realized that you had to go to the bathroom. While your mind was just telling you to ignore it, you saw that there was a bathroom in view, just a few meters away from where the truck was parked. 
Fuck it, you thought. There wouldn’t be a spot to stop at for a while, right? You opened the door slowly, hoping he wouldn’t hear you. Unfortunately, he did.
He turned towards you just as you hopped out and quietly closed the door. You both stared at each other for a second, before he said, “Let me just finish this and we’ll take a break at this place. There are snacks in that store behind you. Grab whatever.”
You nodded, and he went back to his meal. While he was busy, you went to the bathroom and did your business. 
When you got out, he was still eating, so you decided to explore the place a bit. You were quick to realize that it was someone's little shop, with 2 gas pumps out next to it. The store was quiet, and you put two and two together to realize that the guy he was eating was the one who probably worked there. That didn’t stop you from taking a few snacks and drinks. You knew that you would be hungry, if you weren’t just sick from watching some guy get eaten. 
When you walked outside, Cletus was dragging the body away, probably behind the store to hide, leaving behind a very prominent trail of blood. You ignored him, and walked towards the truck to put the items in the back seat. Organizing them so they wouldn’t fall, and so that they would be easy to grab if you needed anything, you leaned back to make sure everything was ok. You felt thirsty, and looked at the food to see if you had gotten any water, but you realized you didn’t grab any. Groaning, you closed the door and walked back to the store. Cletus was still hiding the body, you would’ve presumed, as he wasn’t back from hiding it. 
You walked around the store, trying to find where they put the water, when you heard something outside. You looked over the stands, trying to see if anything was outside or if Cletus was just messing with you. But there was nothing. You continued looking, thinking it was just the wind or some animal. When you found a few bottles of them, you grabbed some and walked to the door.
When you reached the truck, you opened the back door again, and threw the bottles into it, and closed the door. You heard someone behind you, and you turned to ask Cletus if he was done. 
“Are you done with your m-”
The first thing that gave away that it wasn’t Carnage or Cletus was the pure height of the person. They had to be at least 8 feet tall, if not more. They were huge in comparison to you. You backed away, hitting the door of the truck as you slid around it, trying to get as much space between you and whoever this was. 
They didn’t seem to care, as they moved with you, around the truck and then behind it. You turned, trying to sprint away, but you yelped when you were suddenly pulled off the ground and into the air. You kicked your legs behind you, knowing it was them who had you, but it was no use.
Suddenly, you were dropped right back onto the concrete, and landed right on your nose. As soon as you hit the ground, you heard a crunch, and you were able to tell that your nose was broken after a few seconds. For a minute, you didn’t do anything, your mind still reeling being dropped a few feet face first, along with the upcoming pain of your nose. However, the noise of a fight made you roll over onto your back and lift your head up to see Carnage and the stranger having their own little fight.
Your eyes widened, seeing how effortlessly he was just batting Carnage away with his hand. Everytime Carnage would try to strike, or even just go near them, the attacker would just swat him down and away. It was like some game to him: it would’ve been amusing to watch had you not been terrified.
Carnage, on the other hand, seemed enraged. Like whoever it was, had pissed him off so much that he didn’t even care about you at that moment, and all he wanted to do was kill them. You could even hear Cletus every time he yelled or screamed, meaning that even he was irate about whoever it was as well.
However, it seemed that even the man, as you had figured out by then, was getting bored of his attacks. His movements seemed to be more lazy and disinterested: he was irritated. 
Suddenly, he grabbed Carnage by the neck, like he did with you, however much more aggressively. Carnage started to kick and bat his arms around, almost trying to scratch the stranger's face. 
“I am done with this childish game, Carnage.” They said it with such annoyance and malice that even you winced at their tone. They moved him to the side, just for a moment, before they threw him away, at least a few couple meters away. Carnage was thrown so far away, that you couldn’t even see them through the darkness. 
You lifted yourself up onto your arms, going to see what the hell happened to him, when you realized that your sudden movement attracted the attention of him. 
“Oh, fuck.” you quickly tried to scurry away, looking around for places to hide. Before you could even think of the best place, you were picked up (again) by the man. He cradled you like you would break at any moment. You tried to say something, but he shushed you. 
“It’s ok, my dear.” he whispered, trying to soothe you. You didn’t listen to him, instead kicking and trying to push away from him. You saw his smile falter, but only a little. 
He began to walk away, carrying you towards the woods, opposite of where Cletus and Carnage were. You realized what was going on, and you were starting to panic. You started to scream, but he placed his hand over your mouth, and rubbed your cheek with his thumb. 
“Oh, don’t cry _____, I promise that we’ll be home soon enough-”
The sound of an agonized, irate scream broke his sentence. The man rolled his eyes, and turned around. Carnage was there, his own ‘skin’ falling down from his face, revealing Cletus underneath, who seemed to be passed out.
“Give them back!” Carnage trudged along, and it was obvious something was wrong with their legs. Looking at it further, it seemed to be the knee bending inwards. Even still, they continued on with, stumbling towards the both of you. 
With a scoff, the man raised his hand. “Rumble. Deal with them.” he began to turn, just as carnage was getting ready to strike. However, that moment never came. A blur of purple and orange appeared, slamming Carnage into the store through the window, a loud burst of shattering glass being thrown everywhere, including towards you. 
You raised your hands, bracing for the tiny little pieces to hit you, when you felt the hand be removed from your mouth. You opened your eyes, realizing that the man was shielding you from the glass. He wasted no time, either, turning back around to the woods. 
As he walked away from the brutal carnage (heh) behind you, he looked down at you with such adornment and endearment that you almost thought that he was out of it.
“My name is Knull, little one. And you are my child.”
.
.
.
BONUS:
Eddie leaned against the car door, already pissed that he had to wait. He knew that he was a kid, and that his symbiote wasn't even really grown, but he didn't know them very well. For all he knew, it could be some ploy by Carnage and Cletus themselves.
Give it time, Eddie. He might still show. He could already hear Venom sympathizing with them. "I know, I know. Just tired."
Right before he decided to just get in and drive away, he heard a small thump from behind him. He turned his head, and saw him. He was wearing a hoodie, and almost ran towards Eddie.
"Where the hell were you?" He scoffed, not wasting any time. He got in the drivers seat, while the kid got into the passenger.
"Hey, do you know how hard it is to sneak out when your parents are watching you like a hawk? Besides, I got some info."
As he started to drive, Eddie quickly asked, "What kind of info, trustworthy?"
The kid sighed, before saying, "I know you don't trust me very well because of the whole 'spawn of carnage' deal, but I don't like him any more than you do."
Listen to him! Even his own, uh, child doesn't want to follow him!
Eddie sighed, knowing that he was wrong. "Ok. I understand." he leaned in closer, making sure that the kid knew he heard him. "But if I find out your lying to me, it's over for you."
He could hear Venom berating him, but he quickly became quiet when the kid responded, "Hey, that's a deal. Besides, if anyone's gonna kill him..."
His hand morphed into something red and black, shifting into the symbiote before shifting back into a human.
"It's gonna be me and Toxin."
~~~
I did it! happy christmas to those who celebrate! and yes, one of the main reasons I decided to rewrite this whole series was because I wanted to include a lot more symbiotes that would make their own part and plays!
also, personally I think Carnage is portrayed more in a feminine way, so originally I gave the she/her pronouns but I looked it up and it was 50/50 so I decided to just change them to they/them, so whatever you view them as can be portrayed here!
love you all sm, thank you for such a great year, and for being so patient with me! I love, love all of you so much o(* ̄▽ ̄*)ブ
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coffee-ig · 2 years
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Yandere Carnage (Cletus Kasady)
TW: Yandere themes (can't find from comic :'))
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His way of loving someone is way too twisted. You are more like a a possesion to him rather than a person or human being.
They will kidnap you no need to know you, or anything they can't waste so much of time. After all they have much more other work to do.
You can never escape them, never. You will somehow will always be found and will always be dragged to the hell which you have once left. Cletus is already unstable so imagine having Carnage in it.
They are delusional they will tell you what they want to do. What chaos they are planning and how they will put it in picture. They want you to admire them and support them.
If someone ever tries to save you they are either dead or they have to fight with them. They are not giving up someone whom they 'love'. If it is their enemy then it's going to piss them even more.
You need to take care of yourself rather than them taking care of you, after all they cannot be with you 24/7.
You will be traumatized or tortured since both of them are unstable and they don't know what actually is love. They just want to keep you no matter how worse is the situation.
Rare gentle moments, though they are very rare. It will once again depend on your nature on how you behave.
In a nutshell, one of the worst yanderes to ever have.
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fandomnerd9602 · 9 months
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Yandere Camila Montes (part 2)
Camila slams the door behind her and Y/N...
She slams Y/N against the wall and kisses them fiercely...
Camila: tell me you love me
Y/N: I love you. I love it when you get like this
Camila: good. now show me you love me
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thehomicidalbaby · 8 months
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cryptic-creepies · 6 months
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Fucking around with some shit, seeing what I might like…
…may end up writing out their full names instead of their initials…
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yandere-daydreams · 6 months
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Title: Captured.
A Continuation of This Piece.
Pairing: Yandere!Geto x Reader x Yandere!Gojo (JJK).
Word Count: 3.3k.
TW: AFAB!Reader, Dub/Con -> Non/Con, Implied Kidnapping, Oral Sex, Threesomes, The Pervasive Aire of Homoerotica, Slight Exhibitionism/Voyeurism, Violence, Intimidation, and Biting. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.
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He let you wait outside while he booked a room. It was a test, obviously – to see if you’d try and run as soon as he let you out of his sight. You didn’t. You kept your back pressed against the peeling cement wall and your hands in your pockets as the man at the front desk screamed, as you listened to the slick sounds of carnage and Geto’s muffled laughter. By the time he came out, his clothes dotted with dark stains and his hands lathered in the same dripping scarlet, you thought you might’ve been too sick for whatever he wanted to do with you.
He held up a hand, two keys and their accompanying plastic tags hanging from each finger. “Pick a number, one through ten.”
You just wanted to get this over with. Then, you wouldn’t have to worry about monsters or mysterious men or any of this ever again. “Eight.”
“Oh, the honeymoon suite.” Your eyes widened, and he cocked his head to the side. “Kidding, kidding. That’ll have to wait, for now.”
The room was nicer than you’d expected. Not quite the oppressively beige monstrosity you’d feared, but not as far from the eye-bleedingly pink love hotel that’d be the permanent backdrop in your worst nightmares as you would’ve liked. Currently, you were sitting on the edge of a king-sized bed with faux-velvet sheets, staring at your feet as Geto washed his hands in the in-suite bathroom. So lost in your own spiraling thoughts, you didn’t notice the water shutting off, didn’t hear him approaching you until the mattress dipped at your side and a pair of hands came to rest on either side of your waist. In one smooth, effortless motion, you were hauled into his lap, left to balance on his thigh as his eyes raked over you unabashedly. “You should try to relax. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were afraid of me.” His hand fell to the hem of your sweater. You’d gotten dressed in a blind panic after waking up to an apartment crawling with those awful things, but now, you regretted not throwing on as many layers as you could, not putting as many barriers as you could between yourself and the feeling of his calloused fingers skirting over your skin. “I can help take the edge off, if you’d like.”
For the first time that day, you felt a spark of relief. “Do you have anything? I’m alright with pills.”
“I was thinking something more along the lines of…” His hand splayed over your stomach, his tone laced with a dark edge. “Choking you until you black-out, then having my way with your helpless body?”
“Oh.” Just as quickly, that spark was extinguished – crushed under an unforgiving heel and stamped into total nonexistence. “I… I think I’d rather be awake, thank you.”
He hummed, tapping two fingers against your hip. “Have it your way, little one.”
Without warning, you were thrown onto the center of the bed. Before you could haul yourself up, before you could fully realize what was going on, Geto was between your open legs, mouth latched onto the inside of your thigh and his hands tearing at your shorts. The flimsy material gave away easily, and your panties didn’t last much longer. You took back what you’d said about wearing less revealing clothes; making this take any longer than it already did would’ve been torture. As deftly as he worked, the knot of dread forming in your chest was faster, quickly overshadowing every rational thought you might’ve had in favor of telling you that you weren’t supposed to be here, that this was dangerous, that you didn’t know what was going on, that you—
His broad tongue laved over your now-exposed slit, and your panicked mind went completely blank. His mouth was hot, and he didn’t waste time, latching onto your clit and sucking before you could think to push him away. Your body, nerves fried by adrenaline and senses dialed up to the point of hypersensitivity, responded immediately, your back arching as you struggled to swallow back a fractured moan. He encouraged your reactions, laving over your clit as two of his fingers found their way to your now-dripping entrance.
His digits slipped into you without resistance, scissoring apart and splitting you open as your own hands balled around the sheets, as you locked your jaw into place and did what little you could swallow back any sounds that’d make you seem more pathetic than you already were. Your pitiful attempts at resistance earned a throaty chuckle that reverberated against your clit and made your thighs clench together. Vaguely, in the distance, you felt his hand curl around your ankle, then you were being bent in half, your legs thrown over his shoulders as he ate you out like a man starved. It was all you could do to keep your eyes shut, the tears that would’ve escaped otherwise safely locked away, to make sure you didn’t kick or thrash or do anything that’d make him decide you’d be more entertaining after you’d been half-mauled by one of his monsters. It was all you could do to keep your mind blank, to block out the terrible, wet noises rising up from between your thighs, to—
The door creaked as it swung open, and you scrambled to pull away from Geto, to cover yourself before someone saw you being brought to the brink of climax by a murderer. He held you in place, though, his grip turning vice-like as he kept you splayed-open and on-display for the familiar, white-haired stranger now standing in the doorway. “Satoru,” Geto started, still idly pumping his fingers into you. “How kind of you to join—”
He didn’t get a chance to finish. You closed your eyes, and when you opened them again, Gojo had him pinned to the far wall, a small crater blown into the cement where the point of collision would’ve been. You could see an orb of blinding, blue light forming in his other hand, but Geto only clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Keep your dick in your pants, pervert,” he purred, eyes flitting to you. “There are innocents nearby.”
The orb of light disappeared, but Gojo didn’t move. “I don’t mind getting my hands dirty.”
You watched a first form at Geto’s side, watched in a daze as his knuckles collided with Gojo’s cheek with enough force to send him flying across the room and into the side of the bed, fracturing the steel frame. “Me neither, ‘toru.”
Letting out a ragged exhale, Gojo pushed himself to his feet and their conversation devolved into a rush of blows and kicks and insults half-finished before Gojo’s fist collided with Geto’s chin or Geto caught Gojo’s throat in his teeth. Clothes were torn, blood spilled across cheap carpeting, and you blinked once, twice, before shaking your head and hauling yourself up and taking stock of the situation.
They were fighting. Eventually, one of them would probably win, and that winner would probably want to fuck you. Maybe, after that, one of them would also help you. Maybe.
Gojo caught Geto’s hair in his fist and pulled. You could’ve sworn you heard Geto moan.
Okay. Alright. Yeah. No. Fuck this, actually.
Slowly, careful not to make a sound, you stood up and pulled your sweater down to cover your still dripping cunt before inching towards the door which was, surprisingly, still in one piece (it would dawn on you later that Geto must’ve left it unlatched, if not open, much to your delayed mortification). You could figure something else out. There were two other people who knew about your monsters, which meant there must’ve been at least one more. Gojo had been wearing a uniform, when you first met him, running for your life from the mangled mess of teeth and claws that’d managed to sink its talons into you, and you thought you’d heard him mention a school. You could find someone else, someone who wouldn’t ask for sex, someone who wouldn’t know your name before you introduced yourself, someone who’d give you a protective charm or a talisman and then demand for money or unpaid labor in return. You could—
It felt like vertigo, like the surface of the Earth had shifted underneath you. Your body tilted, collapsed, and then Gojo’s arm was wrapped around your waist, his chest pressed into your back and his fingers burrowed into the flesh of your side. “Trying to get away?” His voice was raspy. Geto must’ve gotten his throat. “That’s not very nice.”
“You were the one who burst in uninvited and distracted me,” Geto muttered. His lip was busted, and he cracked his nose back into place as he hauled himself up from the floor. “If you hadn’t interrupted us, they’d still be cumming on my tongue so adorably.”
Gojo didn’t seem to pay him any mind. His attention remained fixed on you, his free hand drifting to your vulnerable pussy. Using his thumb, he gathered some of the slick staining your inner thighs, toying with it as he spoke. “I thought the first time I touched you like this would be more romantic.” He paused, his ears ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Or, the first time I touched you while you were awake, at least. It… it got harder to control myself, toward the end.”
You snapped to Geto, teeth bared. “This wasn’t what we agreed to. I don’t want to—”
“Don’t talk to him.” His fingers slipped into you, curling against the walls of your cunt. Your breath hitched in your chest, and Gojo pressed a fleeting kiss into your cheek. “Don’t look at him. He’s not supposed to be here.”
“I could say the same thing about you, Satoru.” Stretching his back, he made his way back to the bed and collapsed onto it, letting out a strained groan. “If I hadn’t been so kind as to donate all of those very valuable, very hard-to-come-by curses to your pitiful cause, you would’ve waited… how long? Another year before so much as breathing the same air as your little crush?” His half-lidded stare met yours, and he smirked. “You should have a taste. The poor thing is heavenly when they’re scared.”
“He’s always been this bossy. I’m sorry you had to deal with him on your own.” Gojo drew back, but didn’t let you go. Rather, he looped an arm under your knees and pulled you off your feet, carrying you back to that fucking bed. He laid you out with more care than Geto had, but his expression remained uncannily blank. He’d been blindfolded the first time you’d met, and whatever eyewear he’d come with had been either removed or torn away, revealing eyes that were almost painfully blue. The only mercy was his hair – long enough to fall over his face and obscure his empty gaze, his parted lips. His hand drifted to your injured leg, still bandaged from the knee down, and his lips quirked downward. “I’m sorry you had to get hurt, too. But…” He smiled, leaned in until his forehead rested against yours. “It’s good that we’ll get to be together, right?”
You wanted to scream. You wanted to tell him to stop touching you, to let you go home, but you couldn’t go home, so you said nothing.
Geto let out an exaggerated yawn. “I didn’t put this little reunion together because I wanted to hear you talk, ‘toru.”
“See what I mean? So fucking bossy.” And yet, one of his hands fell away from you. You heard fabric rustle, metal clink, and then his cock was free, prodding against the inside of your thigh. You could feel your heart drop into your stomach as your eyes broke away from his and raked over his pale shaft, his flushed head, already leaking beads of ivory precum. He was tall. They were both massive, but nothing attached to a human being should’ve been that big. “You’re lucky I’m letting you watch.”
“Who said I’d be watching?” So preoccupied by your own terror, you didn’t notice Geto shifting until you felt his hands on your sides, then at the hem of your sweater, pulling your only remaining protection over your head. You scrambled to stop him, but there wouldn’t have been much you could to do fend him off at your best, let alone in the state you’d been reduced to tonight. With a breathy chuckle, he finished stripping you down, his attention immediately falling to your chest. “You wouldn’t want me leaving you alone with him, would you, little one?” He bowed his head, catching your nipple with his teeth and pulling harshly. A pained whine slipped past your lips before you could choke it back, and he turned towards Gojo, grinning. “See? They like me.”
Whatever rage Gojo felt, he managed to bury it beneath a soft smile, a pulse of pure electricity in his eyes as he took his cock in his hand, dragging the tip over your entrance. You thrashed, kicked, fought, but he only cooed as he thrust into you, like he was trying to comfort you. Like you would need to be comforted if he just stopped.
He bottomed out, his hips pressing into yours with a blissful sigh, and you lurched forward, moving to claw at his eyes, to wrap your hands around his throat, to do something. Geto caught your wrists before you could so much as touch him, though – laughing as he forced your arms flush against the mattress. As Gojo started to move in earnest, Geto slotted his lips against yours, taking advantage of your distress to force his tongue into your mouth while Gojo fucked you open, whatever gentleness he’d been attempting to show you falling away in favor of burying himself that much deeper in your tight heat. As soon as Geto pulled away, Gojo took his place, his kiss not quite as aggressive but no less invasive, no less unwelcome. You should’ve never left your apartment. You should’ve never run from your monsters. At least they might’ve been kind enough to kill you quickly.
By the time he broke away from you, your vision was spotted with black, your lungs aching from a lack of oxygen. Jerkily, he straightened his back and raised a hand, his fingers soon tangled in Geto’s hair. You watched in a daze as teeth clashed against teeth and lips collided with a bruising force, and considered the terrifying possibility that you might’ve been the first person either of them had ever kissed.
Gojo’s pace turned erratic, his hold on your hip crushing. His pelvic bone caught on your clit every time he thrust into you. You’d been able to control yourself when faced with Geto’s teasing, but now, every little cracked moan and pained whimper slid past your lips, barely audible above the sound of slick squelching and skin slapping against skin. Unwillingly, you clenched around him, and Gojo doubled over with a throaty groan, burying his face in the side of your neck. You felt his mouth on your throat, then his teeth, sinking into your skin deep enough to draw blood. You clenched your eyes shut, willing your body to go numb to the pain, to ignore the coil of pure agony winding tighter in your core, but Geto caught your chin, forcing you to tilt your head back and stare up at him. “Trying to run away again so soon?”
“S-stop,” you half-sobbed, trying to pry his hand away from your face. “Don’t touch me—”
“We’ll have to bring a gag along, next time. That is, unless you learn to be more appreciative.” He shrugged his sweatpants below his waist, wrapping his fist around his cock and guiding it to your lips. “Open up, little one.”
You grit your teeth, keeping your mouth shut as tightly as you could, but Gojo bit down on your collarbone and you screamed, jerking against him. Geto took advantage of your misery, slipping a thumb into your mouth and prying your teeth apart, forcing his cock down your throat. “Bite down,” he muttered, voice low and tone sharpened, “and I’ll make sure he knocks you up.”
A wave of cold dread washed over you, but you didn’t have time to linger on your newly realized fear. Geto was already fucking your skull, already leaving you struggling not to choke as you tried to remember how to breathe around him. Where Gojo was uncontrolled, Geto almost seemed… unaffected, holding your head in place while he rolled his hips with the idle pace of a man determined to milk every second he could out of you. It was unbearable; the burning in your throat, the heat in your core, the feeling of Gojo battering into your cunt until you couldn’t stop your legs from twitching, your back from arching, your pussy from clenching around Gojo’s length and drawing a sinful noise from somewhere deep in his chest. You let out a ragged moan half-suffocated by Geto’s cock, and then you were coming undone around him, your body convulsing underneath his. Gojo wasn’t far behind. With a hitched groan, he pressed his hips into yours and pushed another open-mouthed kiss into your neck, making no attempt to pull out before flooding your pussy with something thick and awful.
Geto wasn’t far behind, his eyes falling shut as he came down your throat. For the longest time, neither of them moved, Geto forcing you to choke down every last drop of his cum while Gojo stare down at you, eyes blank and lips parted, his expression caught somewhere between tender and awe-struck.
Finally, he glanced away from you, looking to Geto instead. “Let’s switch. I want to feel their mouth.”
Geto let out a breath of a chuckle. With your body limp, your jaw slack, he pulled away from you, leaning just close enough to let his lips brush against your temple before straightening his back and moving to take Gojo’s place between your legs. “Whatever you say, lover boy.”
~
Hours later, when your skin was little more than a patchwork of hickeys and bruises and you couldn’t feel anything save for a constant, excruciating ache in your cunt, Geto had fallen asleep with his arm around your waist and Gojo laid next to you, head propped on his fist and a soft smile painted across his lips. You could see the sun starting to rise from behind the thin motel curtains, feel the dread that accompanied being in a strange place with strange men at a strange time, but it all seemed secondary, pushed to a distance by your exhaustion, your devastation. When Gojo wrapped his arms around you, pulling you out of Geto’s hold, all you could summon was a whine of protest, and even that was quickly glazed over with an airy laugh, a quiet hush.
Geto’s shirt (discarded three hours in, when he stepped aside for a shower while Gojo made you cum on his tongue for the fourth time) was pulled over your head, Gojo’s glasses (lost in the initial fight, found briefly while Geto was bouncing you on his cock with one hand and jerking Gojo off with the other, then lost again) snagged off the floor and pocketed. As he slipped out of the beaten motel door, you shut your eyes against the dim light, burying your face in his chest, and he encouraged you to, cupping the back of your neck as he pressed a kiss into your forehead. With his lips still lingering against your skin, he spoke, his voice muffled by his proximity. “It’s alright. You can sleep, if you need to.”
It might’ve been sweeter, if you hadn’t been able to feel every inch of his smile cutting into your skin.
“I promised I’d keep you safe, didn’t I?”
3K notes · View notes
dazai-ritualist · 19 days
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Yan!Alastor with a sweet little doe reader that loves to stay close to them and is rather clingy? Cuddles are a must, light kisses on the chin, wanting to walk together with held hands, physical contact is basically their love language! 🥰 even going for his fluffy ears cause who wouldn’t?? I love your writing btw! It makes me happy whenever you have something new for us ❤️
SAY YOU’LL NEVER LEAVE ME!
— yandere!alastor x clingy!reader
— AGH!! this made me scream thank you sm i love you!!! violence warning! pure yandere fluff 😲
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is in love with how clingy you are! you refuse to leave his side, and he didn’t even need to force you! alastor loves a submissive darling who’d do what he desires without asking
not to mention how innocent you are! how did such a sweet little doe such as yourself get into hell? st. peter must have been mistaken!
because of your pure nature, alastor would only want the best things for his darling! just promise him to be his forever, and the rest of hell will be in the palm of your hand.
alastor himself isn’t one for physical touch though. he doesn’t mind keeping you at his side nor does he mind the kisses, don’t get it wrong, he adores your kisses! touching his ears though may be harder to adjust to.
he hates the reminder that he is a prey animal, he himself enjoys being the predator. your gentle touch against his fluffy ears and antlers as he twitches under your touch makes him quite uncomfortable to the fact you’re touching his weakest and most sensitive spot.
eventually, he grows to accept the fact that to be yours, he must make some sort of sacrifice. and if it’s this, so be it…
although, because of your clingy behavior, it only raises his possessiveness. seeing you even talking to someone else would make his blood boil.
especially if it is someone alastor has conflict with; seeing you even be approached by lucifer or vox would make him jealous; his smile would grow strained, his murderous intent thick in the air, enough to cut with a knife.
against lucifer or fellow overlords, alastor wouldn’t act upon it. despite his huge ego, he knows better than to pick a fight with demons who are more powerful than him.
to those who are lesser than him… unfortunately, they’re not as lucky.
of course though, being the gentleman he is, he refuses to taint your soul with all the carnage and bloodshed he commits to keep you as his sweet doe.
‘LIVE ON AIR’ the neon sign in alastor’s broadcast station lit up as the speakers across pentagram city came to life. a man begging for his life, screaming as various noises were heard. one could only assume the radio demon was tearing his soul to pieces.
the sound of flesh being ripped apart was gruesome as the sinner’s bloodcurdling screams grew weaker. the sound of his corpse being hit against the walls of the station at least 40 times until alastor threw the body onto the floor.
when the man screamed no more, alastor’s voice was heard, sighing deeply, as if all his pent-up stress had just been released before joyful music started playing in the background. “good evening, sinners! take this broadcast as a reminder not to mess with what belongs to me! lest you’d like me to feast on your screams.” alastor warned before he laughed maniacally. and then he was gone once more.
after releasing all of his fury, he returned back to your shared bedroom, his cute little doe in pretty jammies he bought for you. so comfy in bed while hugging a plushie of a manically-cute red kitty, the antlers on its’ head resembling alastor’s. “alastor, what took so long?” you pouted as he began to retire in his nightwear, first taking off his bowtie.
“forgive me, my doe. there were many things to cover tonight on my radio broadcast…” he smiled, pinching your plump cheeks; so yummy and jiggly under his touch. “could i make it up to you tonight?” he smiled widely.
“ugh, then hurry up, please?!” you hit the sheets in frustration. “ahaha… just be patient, my darling.” he patted your head, getting into bed with you. turning off the lights before he wrapped his lanky arms around your waist, burying his face in your hair and leaving a trail of light kisses over your head.
the next time you’d see alastor’s broadcast station, a peculiar skeleton is pinned, adding a grotesque look to the hotel
1K notes · View notes
peachedtvs · 1 month
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TIL' DEATH DON’T WE PART ft. Yandere!Alastor
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⃝𖤐 VALENTINES DAY 2024 SPECIAL…
⃝𖤐 SUMMARY: After fleeing from your fiancé, it isn’t long before the two of you reunite, against your will or with it—on Earth or not.
⃝𖤐 CONTENT WARNINGS: afab, fem!reader, yandere!ex-fiancé!alastor x reader, alastor being a serial killer, moderate description of gore, NONCON/DUBCON, fingering, oral (fem receiving), big dick alastor—not great prep, p in v sex, rough sex, biting/marking kink, fear play, predator/prey dynamics, size kink, alastor uses his shadows,
⃝𖤐 WORD COUNT: 3.9k | 2k plot, 1.9k smut
⃝𖤐 STREAM NOTE: SMUT BELOW THE SECOND NSFW BANNER !😋i am IN LOVE WITH THIS MAN GUYS
⃝𖤐 MASTERLIST. Main blog @peachedtv
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Alastor felt you were quite silly, even from when the two of you were small.
So silly, in so many ways.
You were silly in the way you spoke. Expressive, lively, words filled with kindness and rhythm. Words Alastor wanted to lock away for only him to hear. Your voice always melted into his mind like honey. Soothing, calming, just like the radio he’d hum to silently during his auditory carnages. Screams of pain, terror, and torment vastly contrasting a smooth swing of jazz muffled through a radio’s buzz.
Your smile was silly too. Loud, boisterous laughs pairing with it each time as you’d close your eyes tightly, breaths jagged as you’d brace your stomach from the joy. Your smile so mesmerizing Alastor wanted nothing more to lock it away behind a key. To melt away in the melody of your laughter, to spread it across his lips and adorn the smile as sweetly as you do.
He’s adapted that wish somewhat.
What was even sillier was how silly you made him feel. On the surface, the twist in his stomach was sweet. An admiration, an appreciation of something so pure. Although,
Alastor always fell apart.
Even in the room of his own heart.
Every silly thing had something inside of him twist. A strange twist, a bubbling feeling that had his gut wrench around itself—curling around and laying discomfort deep into his heart, where it stood mockingly. Unable to be buried beneath other thoughts, placed behind distractions, or replaced with another. And this bothered him.
Alastor was always in control.
Control of his subordinates, control of his manipulation, his chaos around him. So why couldn’t he control this?
What were you doing to him?
He thought it was uncomfortable at first. But that strange feeling was quite addicting, stacking tenfolds in intensity ever since the first time he felt it with you.
“Are you okay?”
By now, this memory had occurred over a century ago, on the Earth he no longer lived in.
The first day you two had met, Alastor was a clumsy boy. His two feet carrying him slower than the beat of his heart, tumbling him down onto his knee into the unforgiving concrete. It hurt. A sting and burn that tugged the corner of his lips into a frown, holding back tears as other children ran past him without any acknowledgement.
He never wanted mother to worry, and so, he always sucked it up. Tugging his knee into his chest, he blew onto the wound and hugged his leg—his lips wobbling.
And suddenly, there you were.
A small, petite child then. Clumsy and expressive as you stared down to him with empathy, your hand extended to him as the other rested on your knee. Alastor was surprised. Enough so that for a split second, he had forgotten of his wounds, of the pain. Cautiously, he took your hand.
Your hand felt right in his.
Soft, smooth, and warm against his cold skin. Soon, your fingers were almost always intertwined with his. Alastor’s mother would coo at the two of you each time Alastor brought you over to dance, smiling happily as you stumbled over his feet in the living room—his favorite radio buzzing soft melodies in the background. Alastor moved gracefully, having danced with his mother in preparation. You were not the same. You couldn’t help but have your eyes stuck on the floor, eyebrows raised in concentration as you followed his steps.
One step,
two step,
three step,
four.
You weren’t a great dancer. And after a long afternoon of clumsily tapping your feet around, the sun began to retract past the skyline, and Alastor had offered to walk you home. It was bright, really bright. Your eyebrows furrowing at the light from Earth’s warming star, a small hand raised to your forehead to soothe your eyes from the bright light.
“Al, look!” You pointed to the sun. Orange hues trailing red as the two colors bleed together, warm tones mesmerizing your childish heart and sparking wonder into your eyes.
Meanwhile, Alastor was looking at a different star. His star.
“I want to make a deal.” Alastor spoke softly. And slowly, you turned to him, curiousity tilting your head as you met Alastor’s timid expression with a hum of acknowledgment. Alastor raised his pinky finger.
“I want to be with you forever.” Alastor tucked away into his body. For the first time, his eyes looked away from you—the warmth from the sky traveling down to blush his cheeks, a pale red hue over his soft features. To his surprise, your pinky hooked onto his in an instant.
“Forever.”
And there was Alastor’s first deal of souls. A deal that tied your essence to his until the end of time—for a promise between two whom are pure surpasses the strength of any other.
And forever meant forever.
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Years together flew by, and Alastor became your fiancé, set to tie your love together by law in a couple months. You both had your own jobs, despite his insistence for you to stay at home and allow him to care for you. Although, you wanted to work. You wanted to experience the world. But what you didn’t want were the unreasonable hours of overtime your boss had subjected to you. Much to Alastor’s dismay, many late afternoons he would return to an empty home. Full of furniture, light, decoration, but never with the person he truly wished the presence of. Every evening, you would trail home hours after him. Enervated, dragging your feet along the floorboards as you slumped into his open arms.
“I missed you, Cher.”
Your voice was like honey.
“I missed you more, my Dear.” Alastor greeted you softly. There it was again. Something twisted. Alastor looked down to your visage. Dark eyebags staining your soft skin, a pout dragging your lips, your eyebrows furrowed slightly as you sighed from exhaustion. His gut was twisting stranger than usual. A mix of annoyance for those who have exploited you, an annoyance that made his stomach curl inside.
Alastor did not want you to continue working.
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Your boss had gone missing for a couple days now.
The company was in disarry, having strangely lost empolyee after empolyee ever since you were recruited. The once bustling, lively atmosphere became quiet, dull, and empty. And with the new loss of your empolyer, there wasn’t an office cubicle you could return to. For the first time in months, you returned home before Alastor.
Although, something felt off.
With Alastor home, it was always lively. The ambience of radio would hum an electronic swing of jazz, a low vibrato of your home’s ventilation system, and the comfort of your fiancé’s presence. He was such a soothing soul. Without him, the home felt strange. You felt presences of another, many, an overbearing amount. As though invisible strings clumped together to weigh you heavier into the floor boards, creacking the dark oak louder than usual.
Without Alastor, it felt as though something was calling for you—and curiously, you began to explore. Exploring as the home you resided in, as this home empty of your lover didn’t feel like a home anymore. And that lead you to the door that stood at the far end of the first floor. Tucked beside the laundry room, you stood still and seemed confused.
Was there always a lock?
A sturdy lock it was. Heavy metal weighing it flush against the wood, holding the door firmly shut to keep everything in out. There was a strange smell, too. A scent that leaked from beneath the dark oak doorway, filling the air with a musk of cooper and spoiled eggs. Your hand reached for the lock, flinching when built up static pricked your skin. A warning. But you held firm. Giving a cautious, downward tug as the lock went slack. It was open. You pushed the door back slowly, a low creak humming your presence, a flood of a strange meat stinging the view in your eyes.
Firmly, a familiar hand held your shoulder.
The hand of your fiancé.
You were terrified.
“Dear, what are you doing?”
You couldn’t think.
Not with the view of mangled flesh, the smell of copper and iron so strong your head began to haze strangely. No, you couldn’t think. Even moreso with scattered limbs decorating the floor—being the remainder of the morbidly intact heads of your former colleges and empolyer, of your missing boss. Pieces of them did not fit like a puzzle. Limbs, skin, so much of their bodies were missing.
What was that dinner Alastor served these passing evenings?
And it seemed as though fate enjoyed sparking your memory.
This time around, nearly a century later, it was not scatttered corpses, blood, or flies that greeted you. You stood before the door of a new, Hazbin Hotel. Advertised as a place for refemption, a gateway of return to Heaven—the place you swore you should have ended up in. And yet, nostaglia always played its role.
Just as a century ago, nails dug into your shoulder, holding you in place. A voice staticy, strange, and terrifyingly familisr beneath it’s vintaged filter. The grip dug into your flesh this time, keeping you from running—just as you did in 1933. With a door you shouldn’t have opened, and a hand on your shoulder that felt larger than usual.
Your fiancé’s hand.
“I missed you, my Dear.”
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You didn't know what was happening.
You scrambled fruitlessly, trying to shove Alastor's hand off your shoulder when sharp, black tendrils gripped your wrists in an instant. By the next, it seemed you were melting into the floor, the world around you sputtering and glitching as your vision faded out and back in as you fell back onto a large bed.
You couldn't recognize the monster that was before you.
You didn't want to recognize the monster that was before you. Although, a sharp, large hand gripped the lower half of your face, covering your mouth and pinning you down into the plush duvet to muffle horrified screams, forcing you to look deep into a being empty of a soul.
Even back then, you always felt Alastor’s deep eyes lacked light. They seemed dull, strange, and detached from any wonder or interest. All until his gaze would flit upon you. A spark of light dashing his iris, a soft smile spreading his lips. He only looked human when he looked at you.
Alastor still kept that smile. A smile that had morphed after his descent into Hell. Sharp teeth, discolored skin, bloodshot eyes that contrasted against dark red sclera. He looked terrifying. His body was misshapen, large, his face framed with blood-colored hair and root-like antlers protruding from his head. His size dwarfed you, a wolf to rabbit. Predator to prey.
“Al—“
"You recall the time when you'd say it back, don't you, my Dear?" He leaned down by your neck, breathing in shakily as though he couldn't believe you were finally here. With him. All to himself. "When you would say you missed me too." His voice was disfigured. A static like radio and dark undertone to his speech making your head spin and eyes well with tears. Your entire body was trembling, the skin on your back burning as every nerve in your brain set off sirens that resonated throughout your head. You felt too fearful to even choke out a pathetic sob, wanting to blend into the sheets below you.
Meanwhile, Alastor felt himself going crazy. He couldn't help the way his mind ran a mile a minute as he stared down at your dicheviled form. You were always so pretty, absurdly so. Even as the strands of your hair fell misplaced over your face, even as you looked up to him with so much fear, hatred, and terror, his stomach twisted just as it did nearly a century ago. That strange feeling laying addiction down into the lining of his stomach, soothing his body that felt run dry of how you made him feel.
He needed you. Now.
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Alastor brought a hand to his lips, hastily removing his right glove as he bit the fabric covering the tip of his middle finger, tugging his glove off by his teeth. His free hand pinned you pliantly down into the mattress by the lower half of your face, the other sliding beneath your shirt to tear the fabric off your body. You thrashed, muffled sobs and tears running down your cheeks, wetting the palm of his hand.
Your terror only fueled him further.
His hands groped and fondled every inch of your skin that one could imagine, a long tongue pairing with his touch as Alastor licked a long stripe up your neck—sucking deep blotches and bruises of dark blue and purple hues across your neck and chest. Alastor marked you as his, bit your flesh like a meal, and ruined your soft skin for his pleasure.
The mattress beneath you was in shambles. Inch deep tears lay by your head as Alastor held back the urge to squeeze you blue, from ripping into your flesh, the torn mattress a goreish display of holding back the brutal cuteness aggression Alastor got from the sight of you.
His hand slid from your mouth, gripping your neck tightly to restrict precious air from flooding your throat. He wanted you ditzy anyway. Nothing but a lifeless shell of who you were once he was done.
Pilant.
Obidient.
And what better way than halfway choking you out?
Your hands held his wrist desparately, nails scratching into his skin as he only smiled wider in response, stitches appearing on the corners of his mouth to prevent his face from ripping in two from his pure display of euphoria.
You hadn't stopped crying this entire time. Desparate pleas falling on deaf ears as you begged Alastor that this was enough, that you'd listen, that you'd stay. And as convincing as it seemed, Alastor was not giving you another chance to escape him. Not again.
His hand trailed down until it cupped your clothed cunt. Nothing on your body remaining besides your panties. A gift, perhaps—the best for last. Alastor pushed your panties to the side, experimentally swirling the pad of his thumb onto your clit, causing you to wretch out a struggled moan.
"A-Alastor—!" He only smiled in response.
"Quite sensitive, hmm? It seems you haven't changed at all." His thumb pressed harder onto your cunt, rubbing your clit side to side as the palm of his hand pressed firmly down upon your womb. He watched you fall apart with glee, sliding his other hands between your thighs and gently nudging a finger inside of you. You threw your headback into the sheets, grabbing the duvet desperately, your hips trembling as you felt your sanity waste away to the pleasure wracked into your body.
You always fell apart so prettily.
Your hand shakily reached out to Alastor, your lips quivering as a second finger curled into your cunt—the heel of his hand hitting the underside of your puffy clit as he kept toying with the bud. It burned, terribly so. Considering how much larger his stature was to yours, how much larger his finger would be to your own, it was a miracle you weren’t ripped in half yet. Although, it sure felt as though you were.
Alastor stretched you out relentlessly, scissoring inside of you before curling the pads of his fingers plush against your g-spot. You arched your back desperately, crying out as your hips stuttered in response. And Alastor kept prying there. His fingers pounding into your cunt, hitting your g-spot over and over and over until you felt as though you'd die from the overstimulation. As you reached out to Alastor, the black tendrils appeared once more. Grabbing your wrists before tying your hands together and in front of your chest as through you were praying—and perhaps you were. Praying to Alastor to slow down, to be more gentle.
A third finger was nudged deep inside of you, pairing with the speed of his thumb on your clit increasing. His fingers pounded into you feverishly, sounds of your arousal soaking your inner thighs and his forearm—dirtying the sleeve of his pinstriped coat. You couldn't concentrate, no longer resisting against the firm hold his shadows had upon your wrists. No longer holding back your sweet moans.
A burning desire began to pool in your gut.
"Alastor, p-please—"
A hand gripped your throat.
"What was that?"
"A-Al, please— I'm gonna cu—m!" He smiled to you. You always were a quick learner.
"Cum then, dear." His fingers sped up their speed inside your cunt, recklessly pounding and curling into you, brusing your g-spot painfully as you sobbed out, clenching your pussy around his cock as you squirt onto him. Alastor smiled, leaning down to suck your clit and swirl his tongue around the bud as your mouth opened silently. Your hips struggled away, and yet his shoulders spread your knees firmly, the underside of your thighs thrown over them. Alastor continued to bully your pussy past your orgasm, sucking and licking your clit as his fingers continued to curl and pound into you to ride out your high. You were crying endlessly. Begging him to stop, that it was enough. And yet, he didn't pull out his hand until you were merely twitched and whimpering in his bed. Broken.
"Have you lost yourself in the pleasure, Cher?" Alastor was manic. Your pleasure felt like a high he couldn't describe. The way your fingers clencthed around him, he felt as though it was a sign. A sign that all your struggling was only to encourage him to fight against you, a sign that you were only pretending to be scared.
"You wanted this, didn't you?" Your eyes widened open when you felt the tip of his cock slide between your folds, Alastor having removed his clothing now too. You struggled, trying to sit up when his hand once again held your throat warningly, choking you lightly against the mattress—gently enough that you could take slow, shallow breaths.
"Al, it's not gonna fi—!" Your mouth fell open silently as Alastor suddenly shoved the head of his cock inside of you. Your pool of arousal allowing him to slide in with just a minor amount of resistance—minor to his strength at least.
Meanwhile, your eyes blew wide as you whimpered out desperately, struggling against the binds on your wrists as your cunt stretched around him. He was big, painfully so. And you were thankful he decided to slide the remaining of his length in slowly, inch by inch. And yet, even when he was just halfway, you felt as though he was already plush against your cervix.
"Is she resisting, hmm? I guess a little force would be needed in the end." Before you could understand what Alastor meant, he slammed the remaining half of his length deep inside of you as you screamed out, your hands curling tight fists as your nails dug deep crescents into your palms.
Before you knew it, Alastor pulled out to the tip, and slammed right back into you. His pace was unwavering. A hand gripped on your neck, the other pressing you into the mattress by a palm against your womb as he split you on his cock. Alastor pounded into you, skin against skin as you soaked his cock, splashing your arousal onto his pelvis and lower stomach. He was big, too big. Tears streamed down your face, and Alastor only wiped them with his thumb before licking it into his mouth. He wanted to taste your fear.
He wanted to rip you apart.
Your chest heaved as his thumb came down to your clit once more, roughly pressing onto you before swirling it harshly. You arched your back, clawing at the wrist on your throat as you moaned, crying around his cock when the underside of it would press into your g-spot, when the head of it would slam so deep against your cervix you felt he might fuck himself into your womb. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, a hand gripping the torn sheets below you as you cried out when your pussy clentched around him.
"Please, please, can I c-cum—" You sobbed, looking down to where you and Alastor where connected, seeing your cunt stretched impossibly wide for your ex-fiancé's cock.
"Don't you dare."
"Please, Cher."
Fuck.
You drove him fucking crazy.
Alastor swore he could’ve cum on the spot from hearing you finally call him Cher once more, the name you neglected from him. The only name you should be calling him. Alastor laughed.
"You truly know me so well, my Dear." Alastor's pace increased. His cock pounding into you hard enough to have your tits bouncing and the frame of the bed on the verge of giving out—your cunt clentching onto his fat cock even more.
"You can cum in three seconds." You nodded stupidly, too desparate to think.
Alastor pulled back to the tip, slamming back inside.
"Three," His palm pressed into your womb, feeling the buldge of his dick against his hand, his cock dragging against your velvety walls. You swore you were going to die if you couldn't cum soon, Alastor's counting teasingly slow as he fucked into you like a fleshlight. Like a pet.
"Two." Your pussy fluttered against him, Alastor's shadow taking his place on your clit as it swrled the bud ruthlessly—his now free hand grabbing your face to squish your cheeks.
"One," You whined, sliding your hands to his upper back as you raked down his skin.
"Please, please, please, let me cum." You were going crazy.
"Cum." You threw your head back, near screaming his name like a mantra as you clencthed around him, squirting for the second time that night as his cock continued to pound deep inside of you. Alastor let go of your throat, his hands sliding beneath the underside of your thighs to push your knees into your chest—fucking you meanly in a harsh mating press as he refused to slow down. You felt like your soul was going to fall out your body, your pussy spasming as Alastor continued to pound into you without any concern to your fresh orgasm and painful overstimulation that burned your walls.
"C-Cher, Al—please, I can'—"
And for the first time since 1933, and for the first time together, in the new realm of Hell—Alastor kissed you.
His kiss was soft, gentle, loving. His hips never stilled, continuing to rip orgasm after orgasm out of your poor little pussy. Although, his mouth was soft against yours, eyes closed and hand holding your neck lightly as the tips of his fingers graced your bruised skin. Bruised with the marks of his love, his obsession.
He held your face as kindly, as though you may be gone if he didn't keep you in his arms forever. Alastor's tongue slid into your mouth slowly, and you moaned around him—letting him in. Your body missed him so much.
Maybe you still love him, even after it all.
Alastor's pace became staggered, his hips slowing until he kept his cock deep inside and came directly into your womb. His load gushed out from the sides of your hole that stretched around him, stuffing you full. Alastor allowed your thighs to rest by his hips, laying you back against the mattress as he continued to kiss you. His hands massaged your body, comforting the bites, hickeys, and bruises.
"I love you, my Dear."
Alastor spoke softly, pulling away from you. Admiring your fucked out state.
"So don't leave me ever again."
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© Peached TVs 2024
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Hii, this is my first time requesting and I wanted to know if you could do an Alastor x hard to get fem reader, who is somewhat stronger than him in the beginning, but as Alastor fights more overlords he gets stronger and tries to woo her into a relationship with him and she is just not having it. Maybe he goes as far as killing a member of the Goetia family to prove his strength but in turn makes the reader like panic and cast him away from her. Maybe Alastor wins her back by taking care of someone that’s been bother her than she doesn’t have time to deal with, like a stalker or something. I hope this wasn’t too much, I just really love your writing!
A/N: kiss your brain i love this so much!!! I love writing for Alastor and i’m so excited for the show to come out so this makes me extra excited!! I haven’t written in a little while so I apologize if this was a bit off, still getting into the swing of things! But I hope this was good!
Warnings: Obsessiveness, slight yandere!, murder, power trip, mentions of death, cannibalism, mentions of blood
Navigation!! // Masterlist!!
Hard to get
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Meeting you wasn’t something Alastor thought would affect him as much as it did
You were different, but a different that scared him and he hated that
Your power and calmness together sent shivers down his spine, it gave him an adrenaline he had been craving and he didn’t even know it
After his fight with you he had fled, to hide away bask in your energy
He had gone as far as studying you from afar, watching the way you carried yourself and the way you went about your day
He would become stronger than you, to take you down but to also have you as his own; his bride
In his eyes you were a prize to be cherished, someone to love so dearly you wouldn’t need to lift a finger again
He had talked to you during a meeting with other overlords, after everyone was done cowering from his power
You were quiet, stoic and didn’t say much- hell you didn’t even spare him a glance
¨Hello dear!¨Alastor said calmly to you after the meeting.
You didn’t say anything, you just stared at him with a blank face, waiting for him to continue
¨May I help you?¨You asked, and he just grinned
¨Why yes you may! I couldn’t help but take notice to how awfully somber you looked all by your lonesome and felt it was my duty to accompany you.¨He said with a grin, leaning down to get a better look at your features.
¨I was actually doing quite fine before you came along thank you.¨You say, facing away from him and turning your nose up slightly. You clearly couldn’t be bothered to socialize with someone like him. His smile stretched painfully wide and he fought every urge to pull you to him right there.
¨Well I-¨
You cut him off
¨If you wouldn’t mind, the stench of blood is heavily present on you and I’d appreciate it if you cleaned yourself up properly and kindly left me alone. I’d hate to have a repeat of our first meeting.¨You said, side eyeing him.
He was stunned to say the least, and without another word, walked away from you, his dignity in shards at his feet.
You had really pushed him over this edge and a part of him was living for it but the other part really wanted to burn the entire city down.
Weeks went by and he was silent for a while, pondering over your words and what you had said. Clearly your standards were high, higher than him by far. He would have to play better.
He began taking his anger out on other overlords, claiming territory day by day and night by night. His carnage all over the radio, for you to hear. His subliminal message to you, that he was a changed man. Ready to be the man you needed him to be.
¨Please, whatever you want Ill give it to you, just please enough of this!¨ The overlord shrieked as Alastor rummaged through their belongings, his shadows making work of their lower ranked demons.
He stops when he sees a picture of you on their wall, a photo, where you were actually smiling.
Words couldn’t express how his dead heart felt, he was in such a state of shock he didn’t even remember killing the poor overlord. What a shame, and here he thought he could’ve asked some good questions about you.
He keeps the picture for himself, along with a file the overlord had made about you
Clearly you were smarter than you let on, because the file was made up of small things almost anyone could gather about you- poised, confident, but quiet
Alastor had made his way to where you resided, a large estate in a rural area, with a tower attached to the back of the building. It was gorgeous and seemingly had you written all over it.
Stepping onto the front grounds, he took notice to how the grass was withered and dead, but sharp black roses decorated the steps leading up to you’re front door. It was so elegant, so precise. So much so he had fallen in love all over again.
He hadn’t bothered to get flowers, knowing you would probably take them and kill them right in front of him.
Knocking on the door three times he waited quietly, hearing light footsteps make their way to the door.
A smaller, frail woman opened the door, and he smiled politely down at her.
¨Hello sir, I believe her majesty is not available right now. Though she expected your arrival. Would you care to come inside and wait for her with some hot tea?¨ The small woman asked.
Alastor just nodded and stepped inside, taking the interior in as best as he could, hoping to burn the image into his brain. The smaller woman led him through various halls, all elegantly decorated by your hand as she explained, before leading him to your study, a large library with a glass windows all around.
He took a seat, taking the liberty to put a record on, slowly humming to the jazz as he waited for your arrival.
Some time later you stepped in, Góetia prince in toe as you pulled a book from the higher shelves with your magic, handing it to the prince.
¨I believe this was all¨ was all you said. He nodded, the two of you giving Alastor a quick glance before shaking hands. The Goetia prince turned on his heel and left quickly, leaving you to deal with Alastor.
¨You have proven to be a constant thorn in my side.¨You sigh, sitting across from Alastor in your study. He just grins, finally happy to have some of your attention.
¨Well a thorn does belong on a rose, does it not?¨He asked, and you clicked your tongue.
¨Roses get their thorns cut off.¨You reply, still cold and monotone. There’s no expression on your face, and its then he takes in your appearance.
Dressed from head to toe in a long black dress that hugs you quite nicely. Your hair is done back, away from your face, making your features all the more present. You sit cross legged, and don’t say much else, waiting for a response.
¨Well that is also true.¨Alastor finally draws out. You hum, leaning back in your chair.
¨What it is you want from me?¨You ask finally, eyes shutting for a moment.
¨Well I-¨Alastor stops, the door opening to reveal the smaller woman again.
¨Excuse me your majesty, but the prince is back- and quite enraged.¨She said nervously, a loud crash coming from down the hall. You sigh, standing.
¨A moment please.¨You excuse yourself, leaving the study. The small woman stays inside, and Alastor decides to take this time to question her.
¨That prince, is he?¨Alastor asks, and the small woman shakes her head.
¨Goodness no, her majesty would never get with royalty. She’s trying to get away from that life.¨The small woman said. So the prince wasn’t your prince, that was for sure.
¨How long has she been down here?¨Alastor asks, knowing his arrival had been pretty recent.
¨twenty years. Died on March fifth, 1909.¨ The small woman said. ¨She was a child when she died, but thankfully to her power, she can continue to age as much as she wants here. Per her family’s request.¨ The woman said.
¨I hope you two are having fun gossiping.¨You said stepping back into the room, flicking a piece of glass off of your hand. Alastor sits up, now a bit more confident in talking to you.
¨Oh the most fun one could have.¨Alastor draws on, the small woman nodding to him as she steps out. You take your place back across from him, massaging your temples.
¨Lets get on with this shall we.¨You say, ¨I don’t know what you want from me. But let it be known I have felt you watching me, lurking as one would say. If you don’t want a detachment from your head to your torso I would politely suggest you leaving me alone.¨You say, your eyes sharper, but tone still calm. He could see the enragement behind your tone.
¨Why don’t we have dinner? I can explain much more than my dear.¨
¨Do not call me that.¨You say, and he laughs.
¨I will not be so easily swayed, unfortunately for you.¨He says grinning. He stands, tapping his staff on the ground to wake his radio up. ¨I do believe that my visit must be cut short. I have more sinners to erase!¨He grins happily, poofing himself out of the room and elsewhere thanks to his shadow.
You don’t hear from him for quite some time, and its almost comforting. He kept his distance at overlord meetings, even though fewer overlords were alive to be present thanks to him.
You had began getting small gifts, and seeing shadows whenever you turned corners. Almost like a mind game. Though you were sure it was him, you had more important things to tend too than his childish games.
It wasn’t until you had gotten home from the Goetia ball that you were face to face with him again.
In the foyer of your home, black tiles stained red, Alastor stood in the middle of the mess. The Goetia prince beheaded in your home.
¨What have you done?!¨You yelled, panic settling in. Alastor had worked so hard for this. A Goetia prince? Hell royalty was a new kill for him truly.
¨He wont bother you anymore my dear, of course I had hoped the mess would be cleaned by now but the fight he put up was quite time consuming.¨He said with a chuckle.
¨Alastor get out. Now.¨You said, and it was then he had froze. You were surrounded by an aura of black smoke, breathing heavy and eyes going full white. The room had began to get darker, and the doors behind you flung open, wind raging as he fought to keep his feet planted on the ground.
¨Cant we just-¨
¨I said- get, out.¨You said, swapping places with him in a blink of an eye, having his body pushed through your doorway with the wind, sending him into the forest far away from your home.
It had been ten years since then.
Alastor had felt defeated. He had tried all he could. Gifts, flowers, cleaning up your messes that you refused to admit were yours. Hed taken out such awful suitors who thought they had a chance with you.
It wasn’t until the next overlord meeting, when you didn’t show up, he had gotten worried. He knew he should’ve stayed away. But he just couldn’t. He hadn’t looked you in the eye for so long, but putting his own fear judgment aside, he decided to check up on you. Rosie, a friend he had acquired, had told him one visit wouldn’t hurt.
He found your doors wide open, the area eerily quiet, the dust coating your home entirely out of character for you. A man stood in your foyer, calling your name over and over frustrated.
¨ Please Y/n,talk to me! Anything!¨He said. The man was trying his hardest to get you to show yourself.
¨Excuse me.¨ Alastor said, and the man turned to look at him.
¨Who the fuck are you?¨ The man asked, and Alastor just smiled.
¨ Someone you’re going to wish you never met.¨ he said. The man doesn’t have time to react, his bones breaking on him, as he collapses on the floor with a loud shriek of pain. It draws out for a bit before the man finally dies, a slice to his chest shutting him up as he chokes on his own blood. Alastor hums as his shadows make quick work of cleaning the mess he made. He knew you hated your tiles stained.
¨Alastor?¨ You ask, standing at the top of the staircase. Your hair is down, still in the same dress Alastor had memorized so well. He smiles, his dead heart freezing over at the sight of you.
¨hello dear. Forgive me for my sudden intrusion. You weren’t at todays meeting and I thought to check up on you.¨He said, pulling a handkerchief from his coat pocket and wiping his hands with it. You walked down the steps slowly, taking in the shadows working on the now dead man on your floor.
¨ Did you do this?¨You asked, looking through the open door of your home. Your voice was softer than before. You looked a mess, but almost put together in a way. As if you were only slightly losing your mind.
¨Yes.¨He said, taking your hand and pulling you closer to him. He figured this was his last shot with you. Now that he had you here, he had to take advantage.
¨Mon cheri, I know you casted me away all those years ago. But I have you here now, and I cannot hold this will in my heart any longer without telling you.¨He said, his other hand turning your face to have you look at him. Your eyes were different this time, something he couldn’t read. But still, he kept on. ¨ I believe my love for you is strong in itself. I can protect you, you wont ever have to worry about some deadly sinner like this again. I know you didn’t believe I was capable of making you happy. But I must know now, if I am truly worthy of your love. I will do whatever it takes.¨ He said.
Your eyes were dark, with something he could only describe as pure lust. ¨Alastor please, you always were.¨You say with a smile. He had been so, immature before. But after years it seemed he changed, on the surface that was. Maybe you could give him a chance. Maybe he was worth coming out of the dark for a bit. Especially now, since he was stronger than you.
¨But, you must promise me something.¨ You say to him, and he nods quickly.
¨Of course.¨ He says. You grin at his willingness, and turn away from him, the mess he made now long gone.
¨Do not ever play me for a fool again.¨ You say. He stiffens and nods, hands as gently as possible reaching out for you.
He turns around around to face him, and almost jumps when he hears the doors to your home slam shut.
You don’t bat an eye, instead pulling him in by his tie and with a chuckle, eye his shadows as they snicker in a corner at the sight of the two of you. ¨ Dont worry, I know you wont.¨
Alastor just grinned, finally proud of himself. Not only had he gotten his power, no, he had gotten his hands on you as well.
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yanderenightmare · 6 months
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What if curse darling tried to escape from yandere gojo? How would he punish her 🤔?
Gojo Satoru
P1 & P2
TW: abduction and captivity, mild condescension, a lil angsty
gn reader
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You rushed over once you heard him at the door – but the smile only barely stretched your face before dropping again. 
Coming to an abrupt halt, the former intention of hugging him was wasted, and the words meant to welcome him home went stillborn on your tongue. 
Nevertheless, he tugged off his blindfold with his thumb, and his pearly hair fell down in pretty whisps around his crown, shadowing the light of those stark blue eyes that slowly peeled open – and unaffected by your stilled state, he still kicked off his shoes and tugged you into his chest anyway – nuzzling his nose into your neck with a soft kiss on your shoulder. 
“Mh, I missed you~”
Your nose twitched, and you sunk your teeth into your lip – feeling puzzled and awkward and slightly sick to your stomach. Arms hanging loosely by your sides as you let him sway you into him – dwarfed by his height, he had to slouch in order to hug you properly – with lanky arms slung around your midriff, pulling you close in a squeeze before loosening up again.
He kept his hands on your hips as he placed a kiss on your lips, but you didn’t react. Still standing there, something akin to frozen.
“Hey- where’d you go?” He called, cocking his head to the side while looking into your eyes with those searing earnest blues of his. “Not happy to see me?” He joked softly in a snicker – lightheartedly carefree.
It all felt so very wrong it made you release a sound that wasn’t too short of a whimper, albeit much weaker, almost so he didn’t even hear it.
“You-” You started but couldn’t quite finish, unsure of what it was that you needed to say. 
You looked down at his uniform. It wasn’t much. Maybe he hadn’t noticed or maybe he just hadn’t cared – but… flecks of blood dotted the black fabric.
It smelled of curse – a dead curse – a killed curse.
You grimaced. 
They’d been pained and scared toward the end – toyed with – dismembered and mutilated – mangled beyond repair. But for whatever reason you couldn’t fathom, he’d given them time enough to heal only to bring them back to the brink of death yet again – played with them for what you could tell had been a long while.
You smelled ridicule and a cry for mercy layered with a later cry for death, and it shook you to your core.
You shivered, taking an abrupt step back – removing yourself. Rubbing your goose-fleshed arms as you hugged yourself for comfort – reeling from the cold-hearted cruelty you’d felt seep into your bones from his touch. 
He’d barely even washed his hands clean of all the blood.
You swallowed thickly, unable to look him in the eye – just staring at the spray of browned red that had since dried, now cakey and flakey, falling off like dust. 
“You reek-” Was all the bile in your throat amounted to in the end – only a weak utterance.
His brows did a play of confusion before he followed your gaze, looking down at himself and finding what you were staring at. 
Oh…
Despite being a cursed spirit, your nature isn’t exactly violent. Guess you’re not as desensitized to carnage as him. 
It’s still odd, though. It couldn’t be sympathy he saw riddled on your face, right?
No. You’ve always been sensitive to dirty things. You’re just your normal disgusted self. You would have reacted the same way if it were ice cream.
He walked inside with a laugh, ruffling your hair as he passed you.
“Right- I’ll go shower. So uptight~” He dismissed with a tease, removing his jacket as he took long but relaxed strides to the bathroom.
You were left standing there for a moment. Unsure of the feelings brewing inside you. 
You thought you might need to puke, but it never came…
Still, you felt weary and decided to go lie down in bed.
You hadn’t slept in your room in a while. It had become a little dusty but you didn’t mind – you needed your own space right now. A place away from him.
But it didn’t last long. 
You heard him call for you some while later. You didn’t answer – lying in the dark beneath the covers.
“There you are~ You hidin’?” He chirped once he found you. “Or are you sleepin’?” 
You felt the bed sink as he climbed atop the covers, slipping down next to you – curtly running his hand over the duvet, stroking down your side until resting on your hip. 
“Not that I’m complaining- I had a long and boring day anyway.” He continued, scooting closer until he was spooning you tight – pressing his lips to where your ear would be. “Would be nice to end it with a little playtime~”
His toothy smirk slowly became a frown at your silence, sulking with a bored pout.
“You’re not still upset about the blood, are you?” He asked then. “I changed and washed it off, so I’m all clean now- you little neat freak~” Voice smooth and flirty, cuddling your cocooned body.
But still, you ignored him – and the doubt in his mind gave rise to a confused furrow between his brows. He thought for a minute before speaking up again. Squinting at his suspicion.
“That curse was a plague, you know...” He excused. “I had to kill it.” 
He looked at your unmoving body in wait, hoping you’d say something.
And you did – muttering. “It’s not the curse I care about, Jujutsu Sorcerer.”
He blanched. It had been a while since you referred to him that coldly.
“I just forget sometimes.” You added. Voice muffled beneath the covers and almost so quiet he nearly couldn’t hear it.
“Forget what?” He asked.
There was a small pause before you answered him. “What you are…”
The curl on his face unraveled. Face blanking. Wordless.
“I’m sure you forget what I am too.” You continued. “That if I ever tried to leave… you’d hunt me down and reduce me to just a few drops of blood you’d then go home and wash off as though it meant nothing.”
He barely let you finish before yanking the covers off you, exposing you and the tears riddling your face to his view.
“That’s not true.” He denied.
“No?” You questioned harshly, sitting up in a rush – and getting in close to his face – daring him with a glare. “Then tell me. What exactly would happen if I decided I no longer wanted to stay here?”
His hair still dripped with cold droplets from his shower as he returned your stare. Your question was a dangerous one... 
One he’d rather not answer.
He swallowed. “You have to stay here. You know why.” He said dismissively – his voice in that serious timbre he never uses – that tone devoid of the usual frivolity and instead holds that very dogmatic weight that urges you to surrender the fight before it gets too messy.
But you don’t heed the warning. “And if I can’t accept that? If I fight you-”
“Don’t be silly. You could never win-” He cut you off – before getting cut off himself by your next words.
“What if I tried anyway?” Your voice a little louder than before – staring him square in the face.
He paused, taking in your eyes – their narrowed state, as well as the brim of tears circling them. He thought of what he’d done that day and then tried imagining doing it to you – and came to a realization.
“I wouldn’t fight back…” His words were soft again, without edge. “I could never hurt you…” He cupped your face in both hands, his eyes full of something so wholesome it nearly made you flinch.
Then he looked sad. Pained in some way – or guilty, maybe.
“But still…” He started quietly. “I could never let you leave either.”
His hands were warm and gentle on your cheeks, but you wished he’d stop touching you.
“Their blood smelled of terror and torment. Did you have fun torturing them until they gave out?” The question was pointed – your words meant like venom.
His frown returned, letting go of your face – though you both remained only a split hair’s length apart. “So this is about the curse?”
“No, this is about you.” You corrected sharply – mirroring his frown with a bitter one of your own. “Is it the same type of fun you have subjugating me into being your tame little housepet?”
His face soured even more – now as though offended. “You're more than that to me. Don’t say that-”
But once again, you interrupted. “Livestock are pets until slaughter season. Suppose a butcherer would think that’s kind-”
And once again, he returned the favor – this time with his voice raised. “If I let you out of here, another sorcerer would kill you within a day! Keeping you here is what keeps you safe!”
You scoffed with your own voice climbing higher. “Don’t be so rude to paint yourself as a saint when you reek of sadism!”
There was a standstill, an all too deafening silence afterward – one filled with heavy breaths and the lingering echo of your last statement – until that as well, died and became nothing.
Satoru looked down, his head hanging – lifting gently with his breaths. 
“I’m not a saint.” He murmured after a minute. “I’m selfish. And greedy.”
You watched him – much shorter than him, even as he hung his head, you were still able to see his eyes flicker with uncertain light beneath those heavy mothlike lashes.
“I didn’t kill you like I was supposed to because I saw something I wanted for myself, so I took it.” He confessed. “And I killed that curse today and had fun doing it.”
Taking your hands in his, he cradled them as though he planned on drinking them.
“You’re right. I am a sadist.” He sighed, giving a small breathless laugh. “It feels good to know that I can do whatever I want whenever I want to whoever I want. And it feels good to know that no one can stop me.”
Finally, he raised his chin and looked back at you – those eyes of his intense with something raw – something desperate.
“I don’t care about anything. So many things could happen outside these four walls and it wouldn’t matter. I’d still be Gojo Satoru and you’d still be mine.”
A tiny gasp slipped through your lips, but other than that, you couldn't move – compelled to keep his gaze – spellbound to their deep light.
“But the one thing I can’t do is make someone feel the way I want them to…” He continued, still with his voice soft. “And even though you don’t have a choice, I’m still selfish enough to wish that you’d want to stay with me. Forever.”
He gave your hands a squeeze.
“And most selfishly…” He leaned in, his face kissing yours softly, brow to brow, cheek to cheek, and nose to nose – lips ghosting as your mouths breathed in each other's air. “I want you to love me.”
Your breath shook. Eyes downcast, brows trembling, and he’d say you almost looked scared, weren’t it for how hard you gripped his hands in return – making indents in his skin with your nails as though anchoring yourself.
“Curses can’t love.” You tried excusing, but your voice was weak and he wouldn’t have it.
“I don’t believe that,” He rejected – and looking right through it, he knew you didn’t believe it either. 
Then he chuckled.
“After all… I’m the worst curse of all, and I love you.”
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P1 & P2
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yandere-wishes · 7 months
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‧ ₊˚✧ Do Not Weep Hydro Dragon ‧ ₊˚✧
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Summary: There's a crack in Neuvillette's heart that bares your name. He sheds a tear for you each day. Yet once you return to Fontaine with your fiance. The cracks and tears begin to grow. 
Warnings: Yandere behavior, stalking, arranged marriages, affairs. 
Author's note: I'm sorry 😭💔😭💔
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There've been rumors circling around Fontaine. Ghostly whispers floating between coral-tainted lips and fervid ears. The rumors spoke a bittersweet name. One Neuvillate had long since buried. At first, the notion of your return had felt like a bad dream. like the roar of a tsunami before it crashes on shore. Terrifying yet, ultimately unreal. He'd summed the rumors up to some traveler who bore your mien. To an erroneous article by the steam bird. Anything. anything at all. 
Anything that wasn't you.
It wasn't until after a particularly grueling trial that he'd witnessed the truth behind these rumors. There you were in all you're glory. Gleaming akin to the finest pearls laying dormant in the primordial sea. Your expression, when he could catch it, was gleeful, delighted, A drastic contrast to his last unfortunate memory of you. His eyes follow the delicate movement of your gloved hand as it stifles a cheery giggle pouring from your cherry lips. It's only after noting your delight that he becomes conscious of the gentleman accompanying you. A ginger with bloodthirsty eyes and a soul that reeks of carnage.
A splash of heat rolls down Neuvillet's cheek. Right before a splash of cold splatters across his temples. his attention narrows on the sky, as the
clouds begin to weep. What once was a peaceful sunny day shatters like a wine glass on porcelain tiles. Humidity threads through the air robbing him of his breath. 
It's raining.
How fitting, Neuvillette thinks as he watches you and your companion run to find shelter. 
Neuvillette recalls your smile almost as clearly as he recalls your pulse under his teeth. The taste of your flesh as his teeth left bloody love bites in every wrong place. He remembers saying I love you, albeit there was more to it than that. It had started with I love you and ended with every truth he'd forgotten how to tell. He had shed his human masquerade, in the hope of finding true love. You had screamed that night. You had screamed every night since. 
Neuvillette thumbs through his memories. As the rain outside grows more ferocious. He remembers you standing by the sea, he remembers you telling him the phobias that ran deeper than blood. 
You hadn't been from Fontaine, not originally. A fallen gear from an ancient automaton whose kin resided across the sea.
You'd been raised in the ways of the hydro court. Even if 'raised; was too generous a word. Morphed or sculpted may have been more appropriate synonyms. You grew up clawing at your own skin, trying to find who was underneath the layers of mindless expectations. You'd been raised as a lady and grew into a harrowing beast that feasted on the stars. 
Yet even creatures of unparalleled strength had their weaknesses. Even ever-blessed vision wielders bore a certain Achilles heal. 
Yours so happened to be your incompatibility with your foster nation. Or rather with the water itself. 
When people asked, as some had tended to do. You'd weaved them tales about serrated Pisces and dorsal-finned leviathans with open maws awaiting their prey. You don't tell them about the vastness, the dark blue landscape that feels all too wide and all too endless. You don't tell them about the things you swore you've seen lurking beneath the infinite waters of Fontaine. And you most certainly leave out the parts about the creature who engraved fear upon your bones many moons ago before you even knew how to walk.  
Neuvillette remembers your eagerness to leave. That had, ultimately, been your bonding point. He'd been an outcast. The supreme justice was ever only relevant when he upheld the law. And whilst Supreme Justice Neuvillette was revered and adored by all. Plain Neuvillette was nothing more than a shadow of evaporated water that hunted the streets of Fontaine. You had never wanted to mingle with the people. Keeping everyone at arm's length. Maybe it was fate that had brought two lonely souls together all those moons ago. Maybe it was something else. 
He had loved you. He swears it on the Hydro archon ( or any other Archon who lacks Furina's fickleness) He'd tried to show you that the waters of Fontaine meant you no harm. He'd even shown you his true form, the utmost assurance. Maybe that's why you fled. Maybe that's why you'd left him heartbroken one morning when the sun didn't rise. 
It had rained that day. As well as the following days. Until the surrounding islands ceased to exist. 
You'd left him hollow and alone.
Yet your return made the cracks in his heart fester. 
 Neuvillette had taken it upon himself to cloak you in his watchful gaze.
He'd come to notice how you and that dreadful Fatui Harbinger you'd come to associate yourself with. Rather liked taking long walks
 where the sea kissed the shore. He'd also noticed a ring of Snezhnaya Alexandrite perpetually wrapped around your finger. 
Neuvillette's footsteps are heavy as they collide with the concrete. He's closer today. So close he can practically smell the scent of citrus and eucalyptus. If he reached out with his powers he could surely touch you, feel the warmth of your body bleeding into him, just like old times. He misses you, yet a part of him pities your return. Neuvillette's grey eyes follow your desolate gaze. It rips open one too many wistful wounds. 
"So then Teucer said...Hey darling are you listening?"
Childe's eyes follow your frozen glare, tracing your line of sight straight to the menacing waters that refuse to part from your side. You hear your lover mumble a faint 'right'. Before you feel his silk-clad fingers dance across the back of your neck. Flirting with the chilling fear that rolls off you in waves. You pin your body to him, finding comfort in the familiar scent of his cologne as you bury your head in his neck. 
"I'm truly sorry for this darling" Sincerity rolls off his tongue, percolating into the tender kiss he presses to your temple. "I've just been feeling...down lately. Like this inexhaustible sadness is going to swallow me whole. Fontaine was the only place I could convince the Tsaritsa to transfer me for a short while. I just, I need a break from it all." You answer him in a low melodic hum. You get it, truly you do. Sadness is a poison, acidic in nature. It engulfs one's soul. Melting away their purpose, their resolve. Eating away until it reaches their hearts, their desires. It leaves behind empty shells and broken pieces too fragile to ever fully mend. 
Who better than you to understand the pains of being soulless, bereft? A mere shell awaiting a miracle that had died long ago. 
There's a voice, carved from velvet and silk. It rolls across you like a tidal wave. Potent yet soft. It whispers your name and calls out in hopes of mending broken hearts. You turn to look behind you. All you see is the endless sea. 
It's only on the fourth day of your visit that Neuvillette permits you to see him. Actually, see him. It's no longer his ghost that haunts you nor the empty waves that he commands beckoning you by name. It's him, really him. His glare is relentless as he leaves a prolonged kiss on your knuckles. You're in the middle of a conversation with that dreaded harbinger. Something about his older sister wishing to take to shopping upon your return to Snezhnaya.
"My darling it's been all too long, how fare thee my-"
He's cut short, how rude. Yet far be it from him to expect proper mannerisms from the Fatui.
"Hey, I'm having a conversation with my betrothed. Don't interrupt." Childe's eyes morph into his own glare. One which promises blood and violence. The fates of those caught on the other end of said glare are never pleasant. 
"As the chief justice of Fontaine, I have to right to interrupt any conversation I see fit."
Despite yourself, you let out a laugh. Choke the fear down with a cup of Fonta and ask Neuvillette to join the two of you. It's the nostalgia talking really. Some remnants of the past collide with the present causing your heart to adopt an unsteady rhythm. 
It's after that event that Neuvillet permits his presence to be seen by you and your "lover". He's always a mere breath away, following under the guise of being a gracious "tour guide". But tour guides do not wrap their arms around a lady's waist when her fiance isn't looking. Nor do they sneak kisses behind open parasols. You haven't protested about any of this. Maybe your fear of the hydro dragon has perished, replaced with a yearning for your former lover. He prays to every star in Tyvat for this to be true. 
It's on the day of your departure that you receive the bad news in the form of an army of Gardemeks. Childe is being arrested, something about a serial disappearance case. Something about a trial. It's a ruse you feel it in your bones. Neuvillette personally appears at the docks and holds you in his arms as you weep. He assures you this will all be cleared up soon. That you have nothing to fear. 
But you do, you have all so much to fear. Neuvillette permits you to stay at his house whilst the trial takes place. He traces the shimmering blue of your veins with his lips. He says he loves you, that he refuses to let you slip from between his fingers ever again. He'll keep you here. Keep you safe. Away from the Fatui. 
Away from Ajax. 
How he wishes he could tear the universe apart with his teeth. Part the oceans and bury the two of you under it. He dreams of keeping you by his side away from everyone else. Neuvillette is the chief justice of Fontaine, it's a prestigious role, one that demands trust. Yet maybe, just this once. He'll have to find the accused guilty regardless of the evidence. 
Tag list: @rebeccawinters @fangirl-katwithclaws @starshiningsirius
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thegaysinmyhead · 2 months
Text
PROLOGUE
Guys—I never ever ever write Yandere Fics but?? Dead on Main Mutual Yandere??? Ghost Obsessions or Ghost Biology taken to an extreme, leading to bloody and ectoplasmic messes??? DAMN
(Legit wrote this in 15 minutes on my phone lmao)
Jason smirked underneath his mask, a feral grin of all teeth as he dug his nails into the body underneath him. These white suited fucks had been crawling through Gotham for weeks and the Pit snarled everytime he caught sight of one in his territory. It had been months since he had gone into a green-tinted rage, but every time he saw one of the walking stain collectors he had to fight one down. The Pit snarled deep in his chest and begged for violence, begged to turn the eggshell colored tuxedos into a mess of carnage, everytime he came close to the 'agents'.
There was an ache in his gums and a burning underneath his nails, he dug them deeper into the light colored flesh. Blood pooled under the abuse, were his nails supposed to be that sharp?
Jason got tired of watching these guys shuffle through Crime Alley like they owned the streets he cleaned, and the people under his protection were constantly complaining about them too. He was just supposed to come in to question them, threaten them so they learned the rules, he didn't expect the RAGE-RAGE-RAGE that overtook him as soon as he was in range of the eyesores.
It was...different than his usual pit-induced madness. There was a purpose tickling in the back of his brain—a garbled voice he recognized but didn't that was screaming at him.
RAGE-PROTECT-KING
King?
Jason snarled before putting the rest of his strength into his grip, there was an audible snap underneath his palm. The last agent's body fell limp in his grasp.
KING-PROTECT-SAVE
The thing in his chest howled at him as it forced his legs to move, instinct carrying him as he put bullets (real ones, why did he have real ones? He barely used those anymore) into whatever fashion-freak tried to stop him with their Lazarus green guns. Their aim was shit, his was better.
KING-HERE-PROTECT
There was a paines scream on the other side of the wall that had Jason snapping back into awareness, and with strength he didn't know he had he ripped a thick metal door with his bare hands and threw it to the side. The Pit settled in his chest, a grumbling anxious thing instead of the all consuming it was moments ago. Jason absent-mindedly rubbed his hand where he felt the warmth of the green that stayed with him before he stepped into a sparsely lit room.
Glowing green Lazarus water and blood was spewed and mixed across the walls, a chaotic clash of neon and maroon that stunk of copper and acid. There was a figure wailing in the middle of the room as more green leaked from an open wound on its chest. No, not just an open wound, a vivisection. His vision tinted harshly once more as he slowly made his way to the restrained figure.
A man, most likely the same age or younger than him, with snow white hair, tanned skin that looked almost blue-tinted, glowing freckles in the shape of constellations, and green-green-green unseeing eyes as they spilled cold tears. Jason gently wiped the tears away as if pulled by instinct, and cooed softly with and audible echo in his chest. The Pit had never felt like this, not even in his most justified rages. It had never felt this soft either.
The man cried harder as he tilted his cheek further into Jason's bloody fingerless gloves, a pitiful whine escaping his throat as he begged without words. Jason doesn't know why it was so important for him to get this man his king out and to safety, to care for him, but he knew denying that instinct would only hurt him in the future. There was a warmth building under his fingertips before he pulled them slowly away from the freckled skin, the man gasping and blinking rapidly trying to find him again.
scared-help-afraid
There was a rumble deep in Jason's chest as if the soothe the man, and it seemed to work. The strained shoulders relaxed slightly and allowed Jason to move his (clawed?) fingers to the thick iron cuffs with strange electricity running through them. With a clenched jaw, he ripped the metal in half for each restraint, barely holding back the green before pulling needle and thread from somewhere in the room. The man didn't react to being stitched up, but whimpered when Jason's hands left his chest. A green and purple bruised hand shot out to bring his palm back, and Jason murmured softly while interlacing their fingers.
RAGE-PROTECT-HELP
grateful-safe-help?
HELP-RAGE-PROTECT
The being slumped into his arms as Jason pulled him close—the blue-tinted man weighed less than a bag of chips.
They deserved to suffer for the horrific acts they committed to his king the man in his arms. The Pit and him agreed on that.
With a gruff, Jason adjusted to pull off his jacket and cover the weeping wound of the man. He pulled him into a bridal-style carry before making his way out of the horror room, stepping over freshly dead and dying bodies. There was more blood in the previously white hallways than there was in the room he came from, and he wasn't gentle about stepping over still-alive scientists and agents. He ended up crushing skulls under his steel toed boots when the Pit snarled for their blood, but the rest wound bleed out and die slowly.
.
.
.
Masterpost, Pt 1
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silkscream · 5 months
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tender is the flesh
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ੈ✩ synopsis: in which you're the only thing that can make the strongest sorcerer of the jujutsu world weak.
ੈ✩ cw: smut (minors dni), angst, yandere-adjacent gojo (he is so obsessed with you), religious imagery, unprotected sex, dom/sub dynamics, body worship, lots of biting, dacryphilia, possessive gojo
ੈ✩ wc: 2.5k
ੈ✩ a/n: [giggles nervously] gojo really went feral mode in this one! honestly this had more angst in mind because i was feeling So Horrible and then when i started writing the smut... someone else took over. anyways gojo is so obsessed with you that it might be a little unhealthy. like wants to live in your skin unhealthy. i think i actually wrote that word for word in the fic that's how down bad he is. runs away
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gojo satoru won’t admit it to anyone, but he’s started to consider you an extension of himself. the missing piece, the phantom limb, however the cliche goes. even when he had ended things for the better, the ache would never dissipate until he found you again.
out of his own selfishness, he did.
once gojo had made up his mind that he was in love with you, he thought peace would come along with it. it did, in some aspects — your presence often acted like a summer breeze that eased his nerves. the warmth of your smile shined brighter than the sun.
and then other times, being in love with you was a new kind of violence. it churns in satoru when he’s alone, knotting in his stomach like a caged beast.
he knows you aren’t delicate. he’s watched you in all your beauty, all your bloodshed surrounded by the slain bodies of cursed spirits. he has held your calloused hands in his just to feel the pulse on your wrist. it’s a habit for him now whenever he touches you.
he has softened himself so much for you that he’s terrified to know that you’ve seen him in battle. he often wishes he could hide that from your memory, maybe make it disappear completely — the sadism that sparks in his eyes when he’s busy with his hands against curses and curse users.
he can’t suppress that violence within him — the one raging at him to leave you, ruin you, kill you. (he’d much rather you kill him, instead.)
right now, the sound of your even breathing is all that fills satoru’s ears despite the dread in his chest. when you twitch the slightest bit in your sleep, he has his arms around you in an instant, chin rested on the top of your head.
“satoru?”
“mm? thought you were asleep, baby.”
you nuzzle your nose into his bare chest. he can feel your eyelashes flutter against his skin. he chuckles when he notices you’re trying to adjust to make your face level to his.
“have you been awake this whole time?”
“uh… yeah,” he sighs. he doesn’t have an excuse this time like he usually does, but he’d rather die than relay his late-night thoughts to you out loud.
“can’t sleep?”
“i should be asking you that,” he chuckles. he tucks a stray strand of your hair behind your ear and moves to comb his fingers across your scalp just the way you like. the feeling of it makes you shiver.
“i was having one of those dreams,” you whisper. “the ones where i’m like, half awake. and you’re there, holding me.”
“yeah?”
“mhm. and then i tried to adjust so i could kiss you, and… and then you disappeared.”
“i’d never disappear on you.”
but you did. you don’t say it out loud, because you don’t blame him for trying to leave you the way he had months before.
he’d told you once that being with him was a death sentence in itself. it took a great amount of sacrifice and carnage for him to realize that you would never let that happen by your hand. he had discovered it in your bloody hands and the shallow breaths you’d taken after countless missions.
“i’m glad it wasn’t a nightmare.”
“what do you mean?” you coo, your big eyes blinking back at him. “not being able to kiss you sounds like a nightmare to me.”
he lets out a breathy laugh. he replies by giving you a peck on your hairline.
“satoru.”
“yes?”
“do you ever get nightmares?” you yawn.
it’s an innocent question. satoru is more likely to say no, because usually he has a dreamless sleep. he hasn’t gotten nightmares since suguru died, and even then, satoru has seen more gore and split limbs than a normal man should. he also recognizes that he isn’t a normal man.
“never. not when i get to sleep next to you.”
“right. six eyes isn’t afraid of anything.”
“that’s not true.”
“oh, yeah? what scares you, then?”
he holds your chin in between his fingers and his thumb.
“you, honestly.”
“me?” you giggle in genuine surprise.
“yes, you. i don’t think you have any idea of what power you hold over me.”
“says the strongest sorcerer,” you tease, rolling your eyes.
“i’m serious,” he mutters. “it’s terrifying, really. sometimes i want— i want you so selfishly. to own you. you’re so—”
“i’m what, satoru?” your voice is a wavering murmur now. he’s sure he’s scared you now.
“completely unprecedented. it’s fucking ridiculous.”
he would tell you he loves you, but that would make it real. real in the sense that those three words are an incantation that would most likely lead the both of you towards doom. despite already hurtling towards it, he prefers to delude himself by telling you in a million different ways that you make him weak.
he’s already accepted his spot in hell. on the other hand, you are too heavenly to accompany him, so he’ll keep you in this lifetime.
satoru rubs his hand on the soft skin of your neck and shoulder. in a certain lens, it’s innocent and loving. nurturing, even. but you know better.
gojo satoru sees you as his other half, as a necessity to the very fiber of his being, and he still wants to wreck you.
he dreams of it often. he usually has you tied up in red rope, something soft and pretty and comfortable. he likes the image of you docile, your skin so supple and malleable underneath his large hands.
you curl into satoru because you know that’s what he craves. you exhale into his collarbone and he thinks he might just lose his mind.
“you’re weird, six eyes.” there’s more that you want to say but you don’t know how to piece it all together in a way that makes sense. all the desire crawling out of your throat comes out in hushed breaths.
“i’m horrible.”
“no,” you grin. “just weird. but i like you that way.”
admittedly, you are on the brink of sleep. meanwhile, he is on the brink of imploding into himself if he doesn’t feel your touch. so, of course, he takes matters into his own hands.
you barely question it when satoru touches his full lips to yours. luckily for him, you don’t mind, either. he’s more than ecstatic to feel you melting into his body as you kiss him back, his tongue pillowy as it teases yours.
you’ve done this before with him plenty of times, but it would be a stretch to say that you’re particularly used to it. in every way, his mouth anywhere on your body makes you feel electric. in your sleepy haze, you accept it, because you’re convinced you’ve never felt anything better.
when his mouth leaves you, you can’t help but mewl pathetically.
“what is it, baby?” he rasps.
“don’t stop.”
“what do you want, hm?” he teases. “tell me.”
if you were more awake, you’d flush and retreat into yourself out of embarrassment. there’s a part of satoru that wishes to see that part of you right now.
in a sick, twisted way, it turns him on even more — the prospect of you being so unaware of how obsessed he is with you. of how he’d be more than content with simply living in your skin, knowing all the ways you move and all the ways you tick. he has you memorized, certainly, but he hasn’t gotten ahold of all of you. he’d forfeit his status and his work just for a bit just so he could learn all of you from the inside out.
satoru is so sure that his desire for you is too much. so much that it would disgust you the same way it disgusts himself. and it’s not that he finds the act of wanting you disgusting — it’s the mere caliber of his desire. it’s become otherworldly.
he’d rather coax out a confession from you, instead, just so he can feel better about himself.
“want more.” the sound of your voice is small. pathetic.
“want more what, huh? be more specific.”
“i— i want you to touch me. please?” you stammer. your eyes blink up to satoru’s for just a moment and he swears it’s the most adorable sight. the usual sharpness of his gaze softens.
he chuckles, reveling in the desperation of your voice.
“where? here?”
you hiss at the feeling of his long fingers cupping the damp mound of your underwear, reflexively bucking into his palm. he’s so tantalizing with how he moves the fabric to the side. your wetness gathers on his fingertips as he rubs your clit.
“y-yeah.”
“so pent up,” he groans. “all because you couldn’t kiss me in your dream, hm?”
“fuck.”
“my poor baby. ‘s so easy to make you feel good, isn’t it?”
you mewl his name, turning each syllable a staccato. your blink wildly at the feeling of his teeth gnawing at your collarbone as he keeps a steady rhythm on your clit. the movements are so gentle yet rapid. the coil inside of you is so close to breaking.
your eyes are squeezed in anticipation of your release. it’s probably good that you aren’t looking at his face, because the way satoru stares down at you is something indescribable. he looks at you like you created him. he’ll probably get sick from how prodigious his love is. his devotion will be the cause of his ruination.
“s-satoru! i’m— ”
“shhh,” he coos into your ear. “s’okay. you’re so good, look at you. so fucking pretty.”
you don’t even notice the tears pricking the corner of your eyes. when you look into satoru’s blue ones, you gasp at how blown out his pupils are, visible even in the dimness of your room.
he grins like a devil. he’s determined to have you overdose on him just so he can be the one to bring you back to life.
“fuck, don’t look at me like that,” he groans. “i’ll cum before i’m even inside you.”
satoru lifts up your (his) t-shirt so he can hook his teeth around your nipple. one hand grasps your waist hard enough to bruise while his other hand covers your mouth. he slips his fingers onto your tongue. when you suck obediently, licking up your taste, satoru makes a wounded sound, a whimper like a devoted dog.
you want to kiss him, lick into his mouth, but the hold he has on your hips is resolute, as if he’s sure that you’ll disappear. his demeanor is always wild during intimacy, often cocky, but this time it’s more primal than usual.
“so fucking cute when you fall apart for me,” he mumbles, his mouth moving upwards now to suckle on your collarbone. “just for me, yeah?”
“mhm,” you moan. his hands all over you makes your mind completely erratic. you barely register his words after chasing the high of your orgasm.
“say it. want you to say it.”
“’m yours, satoru,” you whine. “all of this — ah! — just for you.”
your legs are shaking so much from his fingers on your clit again. he has you overstimulated from his touch. the sounds that come out of your mouth have to be awakening something divine in him. the knife inside him twists inward.
“mine, mine, mine,” he mutters into your skin, slotting his hips with yours. he enters you without warning, a hard thrust that has your body bending to his will.
“no one wants you more than i do, you know that? if anyone even tries to test me, i’d kill them.”
“satoru—”
you can barely grasp language at this point. he laughs a little when he sees your eyes roll back and the sound of it is both melodic and a little mean.
“oh my god,” you whimper. tears start falling down your cheeks.
satoru might be a sadist — the sight makes his heart fucking swell. he wants to tear you apart and put you back together. he wants to worship you.
and god, the begging. the aching way your voice breaks as you say his name and the word please.
he’s carnal with his teeth at your throat. his hips stutter when he feels how tightly you suck him in, how he can feel your cunt contract when he hits a certain spot.
satoru thinks he’s been hungry for you all his life. if being the strongest sorcerer wasn’t his reason for being alive, he thinks that being able to see you sprawled out like this underneath him is reason enough.
satoru is many things. he’s arrogant, assured, depraved. he’s certainly annoying to anyone that knows him. but above all, to nobody else but you, he is fucking obsessive.
he loses himself in your pussy. with his cock pushed inside you to the hilt, he is yours and no one else’s. no one else can touch him like you do. no one else touches him.
“i’m so close,” you gasp.
“poor thing. is that what’s got you crying so much?” he taunts.
“y-yes! fuck—”
“you’re so pretty when you cry. i love it.”
you flush under his gaze, heat pooling in your stomach. when you attempt to cover your face with your arms and at least wipe away your tears, satoru holds down your wrists.
“don’t hide from me,” he groans. “wanna see my pretty girl when she cums.”
he can feel his dick twitching inside of you. you’re so fucking tight. the lewd sound of him drilling into you is obscene, but the look on your face is fucking divine.
he loves to claim you, to mark you up. he remembers how much you like it, too, especially when his long, pretty fingers are around your throat. he squeezes just the tiniest bit and you gasp in pleasure.
“more, more, more—”
“i know, baby, i know.”
satoru likes his name best when it comes from your mouth. especially when you’re crying, your voice shaking just as violently as your thighs.
he takes the opportunity to be even rougher, his other hand toying with your clit as he coaxes your release. you’re overwhelmed, flooded with a euphoria that stimulates the whole of your body.
“fuck, y’feel so fucking good,” he grunts. with his cock wrapped in the velvet of your cunt, satoru feels like he’s on top of the fucking world. above the heavens, too, probably.
“cum inside me,” you strain. “please.”
“yeah? you want it that bad?”
he presses into you further, lifting your legs so that your ankles dangle past his shoulders.
“yes— need it so bad, fuck!”
he curses with a growl rumbling in his chest. he soaks your insides with his warmth until it leaks out of you.
this is satoru’s form of worship. the stutter of his breaths, the slight tremble of his hands as they caress your jaw. the all-consuming kiss.
it rouses something terrifying inside you. in a way, it mirrors the beast in him. gods and monsters, the two of you.
the room is filled with the sound of both of your breaths evening out, heartbeats syncing together.
“jesus christ.” you clear your throat.
“you okay?”
“i’m perfect,” you reply in a haze. even after cumming, satoru wants to lick the sleepy grin off your mouth. or maybe make you cry again.
for now, he basks in your warmth, indulges in the way you bring him back to earth after making him ascend to heaven.
“yeah, you really are.”
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yandere-writer-momo · 4 months
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Some Pickle for my baby, @unstuckmusturd . Merry Christmas!! 🎄
TW: Dark content, monster fucking, gore, yandere, size difference, and horror elements
Yandere Baki Shorts: The Abominable Snowman
Yandere Yeti Pickle x Explorer Afab Reader
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“Are you sure you know where you’re taking us? It seems you’re deliberately leading us further and further away from civilization.” (Your name) ignored the whines of the group of men that trudged behind her in the snow. They dragged their feet as they huffed. The group hadn’t ceased their complaints since they had left the village but (your name) had already been paid the hefty sum to lead them up the mountain to find a rare herb.
“I’m sure.” (Your name) sighed as she lead them through the forest in the mountain. She’s traveled this mountain dozens of times. She knew it like the back of her hand. It was just a shame most men didn’t think she was capable because of her gender… the men continued to grumble under their breath as they followed behind her towards the snowy clearing. The whole group was unaware they they’re were being watched
It was when the wind began to pick up that (your name) urged the researchers to move faster. A blizzard was coming… they failed to keep up with her fast steps as the snowfall gradually braced denser… and that was when a loud roar echoed throughout the clearing that sent a chill down her spine. Was that a polar bear? No… whatever was charging towards them was much bigger than a bear. (Your name) quickly left the researchers behind as she scrambled to safety. She wasn’t going to let these men slim down her chances of survival since she’s already gotten exactly what she’s wanted.
The thick, white blankets of snow blinded her from the carnage behind her. The only thing she could hear were the loud, blood curdling screams of the researchers. And what felt like an eternity later, silence filled the blistering, cold air. It was terrifying to know that she were now alone, but she had to keep going. She didn’t want to die here. Not like this… not being mauled to death.
Once (your name) was back into the forest, she began to set up camp. She needed to build a shelter to retire for the night. It was far too dangerous to continue traveling, especially with a polar bear on the loose.
(Your name) grunted as she used a shovel from her pack to dig a small hole into the snow to settle into for now. She would use their survival skills to outlast the blizzard and hopefully she didn’t run into any polar bears… (your name) made the perfect hole with a tunnel that didn’t allow the wind to blow into her little snow cave. The young woman set up her sleeping bag and retired for the night. Her eyes that were heavy with sleep drifted shut. She prayed to whatever god was out there that she survived the night… little did she know of the large figure who stood above her hideout. A low growl escaped their lips as they made their way over to the slumbering (your name), their clawed hand brushed a few of her stray hairs out of her cold face. His Pretty mate… he’s been watching her for so long now and she was finally in his grasp. Pickle was so happy!
(Your name) awoke the next morning feeling warm…. Warm?! (Your name) went to jump up in shock but fluffy, muscular arms held her down. What on earth- (your name) gasped when her eyes clashed with brilliant gold eyes. A yeti?!
Pickle sat up and cooed at her, his clawed fingers poked at her cheeks as he rose to sit up on his haunches. He was massive… he was bigger than any creature she’s ever seen and he was covered in white and black hair. Never did she think a creature of myth would be real…
(Your name) went to step back but Pickle stopped her. He quickly pulled her back into his body, the yeti nuzzled his face into her shoulder and loudly purred. (Your name) loudly squealed when she felt his wet tongue lapped at her neck. His breath reeked of rotten meat. “Stop it!”
Pickle whined when she pushed his head away, he had merely wanted to love on his mate… why did she reject him? He had shown that he was the strongest out of all the other males. He was worthy of her. Pickle was strong.
Pickle set her down in a pile of pelts as he began to try to tug at her clothes. He wanted something specific from her… Pickle wanted young and she was the perfect one to bare them for him. He’s searched this mountain for a female for months and she’s been the only one he’s seen. Pickle would stake his claim
(Your name) began to fight back. Her small hands beat against each his chest which amused the large creature. She wanted to play? How cute! But she was so skinny… she’d break if he tried to breed her now!
Pickle soon began to poke and tease her, his sexual appetite satiated for now. He could try again later, there was plenty of time before spring!
(Your name) found herself trapped with Pickle in his cave and it was a terrifying experience. The yeti would constantly bring her back meat with utmost urgency, the large monster whining if she didn’t like what he brought. Didn’t she understand she needed to eat so they could breed? She needed to gain weight! Maybe she’d like something else?
Bathing was a bit difficult for her at first but she taught Pickle how to collect snow in her small pot from her pack. Pickle was amazed the first time he saw fire. He even reached out to touch it out of curiosity but quickly howled in pain when he burnt himself. The yeti cried as (your name) kissed his clawed fingers with utmost care. Pickle began to love to be babied
Pickle loved to see her bare. Her curves were delicious to his starving eyes… he couldn’t wait for the spring time to claim his prize.
Pickle was thrilled when (your name) would eat the berries and fish he brought back. The yeti would dance in happiness every time she ate the succulent fruits and nuts he had scavenged for. It swelled his heart up with pride to see her happy. See? Pickle was a great mate! He was perfect!
As weeks went on, (your name) began to make her own clothes out of the many pelts pickle brought her for warmth. The nest in the center of the cave was now twice the size it was from when she first was brought here.
(Your name) had soon grown used to Pickle’s eccentric behavior and to his constant snuggles. Hell, she’s even grown used to his pungent scent… but lately there’s been a more headier scent all over the cave. One that caused a stirring between her legs. Were they some sort of pheromones?
Pickle smirked when he noticed (your name) shift, the yeti placed his large palms on her legs and slowly pulled her skirts up. There it was… her ovulation cycle has begun.
(Your name) had no time to shift from his grasp before his mouth descends on her. Her fingers tangle into the dark mop atop his head. A loud squeal escaping her lips as he greedily lapped at her folds. His freakishly long tongue dove past the tight ring of muscles to his prize.
It’s when (your name) is tethering on the edge of ecstasy that he pulls his mouth away and teases her hole with something much larger than his tongue. And before she can get a grasp on what is going on, he sheathed himself into her. Pickle groans at how she tightens from the intrusion
Her cries only fuel him to pound into her. To breed. She can do nothing but cry as the large bulge protrudes in her stomach. He was too big. He was too much. But it didn’t take long for the pain from his rough fucking to start to melt into something pleasurable
(Your name) felt the coil steadily build in her once more. This time, her hips began to try to meet his rough thrusts and she was rewarded with his tongue in her open mouth. She practically choked on the large muscle that had hints of her taste on it
She felt herself explode on this monster who was somehow sucked even deeper into her from the force of her orgasm. A scream escaped her throat when she felt burning ropes of his cum fill her… there was not a doubt in her mind that this monster had successfully stuffed her with his young. Her stomach a bit bloated from the sheer amount of semen in her
Pickle cooed as he pulled out with a wet pop, his fingers scooped up the viscous cum that leaked from her stretched hole in hope to save as much of it as he could.
. She knew she was ruined beyond repair, but it didn’t matter to her anymore. If she was going to be stuck on this mountain, she might as well enjoy herself
Pickle cooed as he curled his body into hers. The monster licked up her tears as he held her close to keep her warm. She was his mate… his perfect, beautiful mate
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peoplesgraves · 1 year
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Good For Her
Yandere God/dess X Reader
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Growing up you’d heard stories of the god who lived near your land. You’d heard he was cruel and wicked but that if a village managed to gain his favor he would bring them unimaginable wealth and prosperity for a year.
So every year your village would hold a festival and would give countless gifts to the god, would sing his praises and pray to depictions of him. But each year the gifts were rejected and the festival was ignored. The god didn’t take jewels or gold. Wouldn’t take crops or live stock. Finally the village was brought to its last resort. A human sacrifice.
You’re ripped from your bed in the middle of the night. Dressed in fine clothes and beautiful jewelry. Tied to a chair while you cry and your people chant and dance around you. They praise your sacrifice and hope that you’ll be their savior. The next night your left all alone near the very edge of the village. The perfect place to be taken by the god.
You cry and scream for your people to reconsider, to save you but no one comes. At least no one from your village. You vaguely see a strange shadow move in the trees before you almost like it had its own personal light source. A figure follows the shadow ever so slowly. You shut your eyes and prepare for the worst.
“Poor thing.” The voice falls over you like honey. It’s deep and a little scratchy but obviously feminine. You open your eyes just enough to see the supposed god. She’s beautiful. Barely human but ethereal all the same.
One of four hands moves to wipe the tears away from your cheeks all while looking at you with such kindness and such sad warmth. Like your very soul was reflected by her large pure black eyes. “You don’t have to cry ever again. Forget these vile people and focus only on me.”
she buries your face in her chest and begins to hum quietly. You can’t see what happens next but you know it’s carnage. The screaming of your people and the smell of death fill your senses and the goddess squeezes you a little tighter against her.
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dolliestfairy · 7 months
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Yandere SCP with a chubby!fem!reader who is a Fairy Entity.
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✧ A/N : its been a while since i dont write because i've been quite the busy here. but now i decided too and recently i've been very interested in scp lore and stories also with the monsters in it and decided to write it on my own within my own style. and + also this was a yandere :). what do you think? if you liked this please gave it a reblog and likes! i will very appreciate it ♡.
✧ Tw : Kidnapping, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Sadism, Carnage/Slaughtering, Blood, Unhealthy Behavior, Unhealthy mindset, Kind of Enemies to Lovers with Scp 682, Worship in 079 and SA in 682 (not from him, but from another person.) lmk if i miss anything. Chubby Reader Fics With No skintone of reader mentioned.
𑁍 Scp 049
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• ugh.. where should i start with this guy? ah.. yes.. he's such a gentleman isnt he?
• first time he realize your appereance he thinks of you as such a delicate creature. he never sees you face to face, he just realize some very Soft and Pleaseable Appereance that was catching him off guard.
• that until he really met you face to face, and if only he wasnt such a cold gentleman he would praise you to death. i mean.. how could he not? you're just soo beautiful. its hard to believe that the facility who basically took you from where you were belong to think that you were some kind of monster when you're literally far from it.
• after he met you he think that he was just simply fascinated by your beauty-appereance, that until he is aware that he doesnt want you to be locked too far from where he was stayed at.
• what he wants is that your cell is to be placed right besides him. not far from him. now this guy is an aware yandere, and not to mention he's a very intelligent one too, he'll be pretty quick to know that his respond towards you snd the facility are far from being called normal because h literally just out burst at one of the scp staff for wanting to take you away from him.
• and the staff was not stupid either, espesially the scientist. they pretty much off guard and very heavily-aware of his action towards them and espesially you. so they start to put you into a different room, besides his cell with a mirror placed into each others wall.
• while the scientist observe from the Cctv, they see that you and 049, both was actually getting along each other.
• this is something the scientist does not really excepting, because well after all they always knew 049 as a very cold yet a gentleman anomaly to ever known in the facility. it was absolutely fascinating to see you - who is more friendly and well not so quiet as him can get pretty much along.
• this makes them hold you within 049 much longer than they actually plan.
• and of course, this all also come to 049 happiness as he obviously can see you much longer even in a different sell, he would love to meet you, see you, and talk to you everyday.
• theres no one, not even another scp or scp staff or even those great scientist could take you away from him, not even death. he swore to hold you within him just so you can be there, for him and him only.
𑁍 Scp 035
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• now what i notice about this creature right here is that he actually quite the flirty one, and lets be honest - he also has some major anger issues holding him up, also a bit of sadism.
• first he sees you from his cell he just knew that you are the one. and let me tell you, besides from all his flirty personality, anger issues, and those sadism, he definetly also has some serious, Serious possessiveness.
• really become an aggresive hostile once he sees you getting interviewed by a male staff, making him growl from his cell, and of course - this lead to the other staffs attention.
• when they ask him about why was he being so hostile towards the male staff he said that "they do not deserve her. only i deserve her." and when the staff ask him "who do you mean by saying 'her'?" only to find out that "her" was you.
• and after that the staff check on you both, interviewing on you both and this time they ask a female staff to interview you, and 035 is much more calmer than before.
• this will all be kicked out of the window when the staff wanting to place you to an Abroad facility. of course this will make 035 sees red. and what can only be describe after this was a carnage.
• and at the end -- he escaped. with the willing to free you from those fuckers who tried to take away the love of his life (or so he tought) from him. he can and would spill many blood as it need if it can help him getting you again. and he wont stop, no matter how much host it will need and change, his goal is just one; getting you back again.
𑁍 Scp 079
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• the first he sees you he really just over the heels for you. no - i am not joking, this dude here is drooling, even if he cant he can feel so while seeing you.
• absolutely admire everything you had. the way you talked, smiled, and walk is just different.
• absolutely reject the calls scp staff throw at you as a "monster" no matter how much they tried, they couldnt convience 079 that you were indeed a monster.
• really love the shape of your body, that was another thing of why he would take an extra glance at your plump body once he realize your appereance.
• is absolutely dying to have you for himself but how can he? he just there and can only watch you when you walked pass his cell.
• and another one is that he absolutely dreaming about you. wether its a cute one, a bad one, or even a naughty one, he does not care. once he start dreaming about you i recommend anyone to dont ever dare to try to take him away from his daydreaming moment or whoever that person is will have to encounter the out burst of 079.
• and after he's done? nothing would changed.. and at the end, he wouldnt be another different thing more than some unsual computer entity dude who is obsessed over some fairy.
𑁍 Scp 682
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• really cocky about you lmao, and very sassy too.
• at first he actually (kinda) hate/dislike you because your overall personality and looks are definetly and obviously a literal opposite from him.
• everytime anyone sees you besides him they already can see the different. surely we dont have to waste our fingers to write what are your difference than him other than the fact that you both were a living things. but it was just sooo noticable like.. ugh.
• this enemies feeling will turn into lover as soon as some Bastardize staff start to treat you in a very unappropriate tone.
• and this time he just felt like he had to protect you somehow. protect you from getting experimented and other bad things.
• even if he's actually really feeling that way, still -- he is a big Tsundere weird lizard so he would rather simply just bury himself alive than admitting it openly.
• but asides from all of that, he actually really aware about his feelings. about the fact that he actually has some feelings for you. and he doesnt even sure of how to say it to you because he just think of it as a very big embarassement.
• this is just a matter of time before he finally decided to tell you about this feeling. the bad news is that, the same day he convience to you, is the same day that he would take you with him for eternity.
• and not even death can separate you from him ever.
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