#you could not be more obvious in your hatred for my people | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lavandulawrites · 24 days ago

Note

could you write honkai star rail men with an escaped darling just like the genshin one but hsr version?💗

Yandere HSR Men with an Escaped Darling

Characters: Anaxa, Argenti, Aventurine, Blade, Boothill, Caelus, Dan Heng, Dr. Ratio, Gallagher, Gepard, Jiaoqiu, Jing Yuan, Luocha, Moze, Mr. Reca, Mydei, Phainon, Sampo, Sugilite, Sunday, Welt (all separate)

I had already started on this when you sent me the request anon:) This was so fun to write:) Yandere hsr scenario requests are open. Though I can’t promise I will do all the characters. If you want to be a part of my taglist, let me know!<3

Masterlist

Genshin Impact version

Warnings: imprisonment, abduction, murder, violence, gore (only in Blade and Boothill’s part), threats, drugging, manipulation, stalking, delusional behaviour, Stockholm syndrome, some yanderes are more unhinged than others, mind break, female reader (though only briefly mentioned in some parts), some parts are longer than others

Word count: 9646

Anaxa

The summer breeze welcomed you with a warm embrace as you set foot outside of Anaxagoras’ home. You were finally free. You let out a silent, but gleeful laughter. Finally. After all this time. Had you told yourself from a few months ago that you would manage to escape the professor a few months later, you would have thought you had gone mad. Maybe you had? Though that hardly mattered. All the things you could do flooded your mind and your nerves buzzed with adrenaline and excitement. The possibilities were endless. First you would have to lay low as you found a way out of the city. Going under the radar of the most intelligent person on Amphoreus was no easy feat, but you would have to think of something. You would have to scrape together enough money and you would have to change your appearance, get new clothes and maybe change your hairstyle. It would be extremely difficult, but you had no other choice.

You stretched your legs out in big steps as you stepped down from the stairs that led up to his home. The stone was cold underneath your bare feet, but you didn’t care. When you reached the bottom of the stairs, the sound of someone clearing their throat broke the tranquil silence. You shot your gaze towards the sound and let out a strangled gasp. There by the iron gates, stood Anaxagoras. His posture was rigid and his hands slightly clenched before they relaxed.

You both started at each other’s for a while, before he broke out into long strides towards you.

“What are you doing?” it wasn’t really a question as one could easily see that you clearly had attempted to escape. It was obvious he just wanted to hear you admit it. Admitting your misdeeds was something he found important (especially when it came to you). He eyed you up and down with a narrow eye, clearly displeased.

When your voice failed you and you only managed to let out a tiny sound, he sighed. “Get back inside. Now” he commanded. “It seems like I might have to teach you a lesson” he clicked his tongue. “A pity really. Here I thought that you already understood that stepping a foot outside is prohibited” he guided you inside with one hand on your lower back. He locked the door with the other hand. “This will have grave consequences. You truly don’t understand how dangerous Amphoreus has become.”

“Go to my study, I will be there in a few minutes.”

Argenti

The petals of a thousand red roses rained down upon you, covering you in their embrace almost choking you. They were a sign of love, a type of love you did not want. The little stream had turned a frightened red colour and if you stared long enough into the murky surface, you were sure you could see the souls of the people he had slain with his lance. For a Knight of Beauty he could be rather ferocious towards those he deemed a threat to your beauty. They never saw it coming as even as he started at them with hatred, his words still sounded like beautiful poetry one could find in ancient texts. Argenti was delusional and his delusions clouded his judgment. Your complains and cries fell on deaf ears as he continued to shield you from the ugliness of the universe. When it came to you, he saw you through his rose coloured glasses and everything he didn’t agree with he ignored. Ignorance was bliss they said and it was some truth in that. You hated yourself for falling for his carefully crafted compliments and his romantic style. You had fallen into his web and it was all too late to get out. You were stuck.

He called your name with his melodic voice, your name sounding like a prayer. You were the closest thing he could get to Idrilla and he was convinced the goddess had personally blessed you themselves. “Oh, my love. Why won’t you respond to me pleas? Why won’t you show yourself? The world is so bleak without you. All colours have drained and the flowers have withered into nothing but ash” his desperation was like no other. Had he not forcefully taken you away from your home in the name of love, your heart would have ached for him.

You sunk down into the stream, the water cold against your skin. Your white clothing soaked up the red like a sponge and you looked more like a ghost than a living person. You had no energy left nor hope. You were but a shell from your former self. All you could do was wait for him to come with his white horse, saving you like he always did.

The rose petals clung to your skin just like he did. The thorns were scattered across your form, changing you in.

He kneeled before you with a hand over his heart. Devotion was clear in his action and his emerald eyes filled with the horrible thing that was love. Argenti would rather burry the world in roses than loose his hold on you. This was true love.

Aventurine

“Please please please! I beg of you! Don’t kill me! I will do anything you ask of and more! Just- just don’t kill me!” the man kneeled before the Stoneheart whose face was cold and devoid of emotion. He was like nothing you had ever seen, his usual self gone and replaced with something sinister. Something more akin to a monster than a human. His blonde hair still looked as soft as it always did, but you could almost see two horns sprouting from beneath the locks. The more you watched him, the more you realised that the rumours you had heard about the Ten Stonehearts were true. They were devils.

You cowered behind the divan in the hotel room. Fearing for what’s about to come. “Aventurine, please” you pleaded. You didn’t want anyone to die because of you. You shifted your gaze from Aventurine to the man who had helped you escape. He was a kind middle-aged man. He would never harm you, though Aventurine didn’t believe that. He had said that he knew men way better than you and he knew how vile their thoughts were. Your pleads fell on deaf ears as Aventurine stalked towards the man. His beautiful multicoloured eyes narrowed and his jaw tight.

“He will pay for his misdeeds. Betraying me like this. How dare you” he sneered through gritted teeth.

“I just wanted to help her! Keeping her locked up is wrong! Please you must understand this!” the man cried bowing his head as fat tears rolled down from his eyes and plopped onto the ground. “I have a wife and kids! My daughter’s weeding is next week! I can’t miss it!” his voice broke into ragged sobs. His eyes flickered up to meet yours in a silent plea. Your heart tightened and sorrow consumed you. You were just about to open your mouth when Aventurine shoved his sleek dark brown designer shoe in the man’s face.

“Don’t look at her” his usually collected tone was fiery and deadly. He turned to you as he slipped his hand in his dress jacket pocket. “Close your eyes” magenta and blue eyes softened for a second before they turned away.

“No! Don’t!” you rushed forward from behind the divan and grabbed his arm.

He only shook your grasp off him as he said “Close your eyes. Now.”

Tears were overflowing your eyes and you were shaking so violently you thought you would pass out. You sunk down to the wooden floor as you tugged at his pant leg. “Please. He doesn’t deserve this!”

“Nonsense” you couldn’t see anything through your tears, but you could hear the sound of Aventurine loading his gun. The sound was sickening. “I will make sure to send your daughter your remains.”

The bang was piercing and you could feel it in your heart. You sobbed uncontrollably as you heaved for air. You weren’t the one who was shot, yet you felt like you were dying. Aventurine crouched down and pulled you into his arms. He shushed your sobs as he gently stroked your hair. “You are okay, I promise” he whispered. Your tears soaked his expensive shirt, but you didn’t care. The only thing you felt was guilt and you were certain it would kill you.

Blade

Many thought that the Stellaron Hunter when mara struck was the most frightening version of him, but you begged to differ. The most terrifying version of Blade was when he was his usual self. His lucidity was far more disturbing than when he was clouded with the need to destroy. Blade was a man that was near impossible to negotiate with, his stubbornness unyielding. When he had made up his mind there was absolutely nothing that could change it. You had long lost count of all those who had died because of him, because of you. He was a ticking time bomb.

The air was filled with the thick and heady scent of blood and rot. The grounds were filled with more corpses than you could count. The harbour on the foreign planet was painted in red, the blood still warm. Screams were everywhere and it made it difficult to orientate yourself. With the sounds of hell ringing in your ears, you made your way towards what you thought was the way towards a ferry. Nausea washed over you in waves with every inhale and you had to force yourself to not vomit.

Something shattered underneath your sole and you gulped before hesitantly looking down. Up stared the blank eyes of a man. The left side of his skull was completely shattered and your foot was inside the hollowness were his intact brain once was. His mouth was forever frozen in a silent scream, most likely a plead to spare his life that had undoubtedly fallen upon deaf ears. It was straight from your nightmares and you wondered for a second if you had died and found yourself in hell. The rest of his body was mangled to such a degree you wouldn’t have known it was a human body unless you had seen his head. You let out a shirking scream before you quickly scrambled to the side, clutching your stomach. You head was swimming and tears flowed freely from your eyes. You looked down at your shoe that was covered in brains, blood and some skull fragments.

You ran as fast as you could. He had by no doubt heard your scream and was right behind you. You couldn’t see him in the darkness of the night, but you could hear his maniacal laughter. Blade was getting closer and closer and you felt as if you were a helpless lamb getting chased by a vicious beast.

You stumbled over a severed arm and your body came into contact with the cold ground. Your head had smashed against a slab of cement in the process, causing it to crack slightly open. Warm blood ran down your skin and down onto your hands. It hurt and you were dizzy.

Bandaged fingers reached for you and you could feel yourself sinking into the abyss of hell. Like a venomous snake they wrapped around you, forever binding you to him. Wherever you went, death were sure to follow unless you accepted his deadly love.

Boothill

The gunslinger had kept you by his side as he moved from place to place. He was madly in love and even though his flirtation gave you butterflies and his silly romantic gestures played at your heartstrings, you still wanted to get far away from him. Boothill was a man who wore his heart on his sleeves, he had been through a lot and you almost felt bad when you snuck away.

Your guilt was short loved when wherever you went, you were met with corpses with more bullet holes that you could count. The sight was horrifying and disgusting, but it followed you no matter what you did. It was clear that Boothill was not pleased with your escape and took up it out on anyone he deemed deserving.

The music that was playing in the worn down bar was a romantic jazz song. The singer sung with yearning, in a way that reminded you of the cowboy. The lyrics were desperate and pleading, a classic that was well known throughout the cosmos. You sighed as you sipped the drink in your hand. Cheap red wine. The taste wasn’t satisfactory, but you didn’t care. You didn’t really like alcohol, but you needed to get your mind of things.

You knew he was the one who entered without looking behind you. The warmth of the alcohol turned into fire in your mouth as you braced for the worst.

“Hello darlin’” his voice breathy. “Duck” was all he said. Despite being slightly confused, you did as he said. After you ducked your head against the countertop, a gunshot could be heard. It echoed through your skull and you let out a yelp. A loud thud came from in front of you and you slowly looked up. The bartender who had been previously cleaning some glasses were now slumping against the countertop, a bullet hole had pierced straight through his skull, causing his brain matter to paint the cabinets behind him. The colourful bottles were now covered in red and pink-ish grime. You froze as you tried to scream, but no word came out.

“Sorry ‘bout that. Just can’t have men looking at what’s mine” he blew the smoke from the barrel of his revolver. “Let’s get goin’. We have a long way ahead of us.”

Caelus

“Come back! [Name] I love you!” Caelus screamed somewhere behind you. You had lost your sight of him as you quickly manoeuvred through the labyrinth like hallways of the hotel. You had to quick, lest the crazed Nameless would get his hold on you.

You pushed your legs as hard as you could and you ran faster than you had ever before.

Images of the nights you had spent together and the sweet memories you had made with him flashed through your mind. You tried to shake them away. Now was not the time to go down memory lane.

A foot came out from around the corner and tripped you. You watched in slow motion as the floor came closer and closer. A hand came under your midriff and pulled you up, just in time.

He pulled you into his embrace and his arms snaked around your waist tightly as he burrowed his head in your hair.

“Don’t ever run away from me. It’s dangerous. You will get hurt” he rambled frantically against your hair. “To think I almost lost you.”

You were completely frozen as the young man continued to go on and on about all the dangers of the universe. You were so tired and you couldn’t help the few tears of exhaustion that welled up in your eyes. Unsurprisingly, Caelus mistook your tears for anxiety of caused by all the frightening stories he had told you and he began to hush you.

“Shush, it’s okay. I got you. I will never let any harm happen to you. I promise” he gently stroked up and down your back in a soothing manner.

“I love you, I love you, I love you” his mantra echoed through your skull and you couldn’t help but feel defeated. You would never escape from him, all you could do was lose yourself to the sweet dreams that came to you at night.

Dan Heng

The water was akin to a black void as it swallowed everything except the pale moonlight. The waves were harsh as they crashed into the shore, splashing water everywhere. The smell of saltwater strong as you walked against the waves. The sand stuck to your bare feet, but you did not care. You were exhausted after days of running. You had managed to escape Dan Heng’s clutches as you had stopped on a foreign planet. You had decided for a midnight walk as you looked for your next shelter. Your muscles were aching and screaming for you to rest, but you couldn’t risk getting captured. You could only imagine his light cyan eyes filled with worry as he turned the entire planet upside down looking for you. You wanted to laugh at the image, but you couldn’t muster up the energy.

You thought back at all the time you had spent together with the Nameless and your heart ached. It fluttered within your chest like a dying star and you clutched your hand over it as if to comfort it. You couldn’t let your emotions take the steering wheel. Not now. A lone seagull flew over the shore as it looked for a place to rest its wings. Your eyes wandered from the bird and onto the dark night sky. The stars were endless and you envied them as they gazed down at you, carefree and free. You could almost hear his voice as he told you about all the constellations.

“That’s the Orion’s Belt. Beautiful is it not?”

Your eyes widened at the sound. Your imagination was good, but it could not possibly be that good. “Dan Heng…?” you called out with a smaller voice than you had intended.

He didn’t answer for a while as he continued to stargaze. Horns adorned his head and his hair gently swayed in the wind. “I found you. Finally” he sighed. He sounded exhausted and you almost felt bad.

“How?” you asked.

He turned his face towards you. “Your necklace” was all he said as his gorgeous eyes flickered down to the silver necklace that rested against the upper part of your sternum. Of course. Of course he had installed a tracker in your necklace. How could you be so foolish?

“Oh.” “Why did it take you so long?” you returned your gaze to the stars. It was almost as they pitted you as they blinked down at you.

“I suppose I wanted you to know how dangerous it is without me. And considering your bruises and cuts, I succeeded” Dan Heng’s voice was as gentle as the breeze that carried the scent of the sea. It gently ruffled your hair and stroked your cheek.

“I suppose you did” you admitted defeated. There was no point fighting it.

Dr. Ratio

The famed genius was away on a seminar which had left you with the opportunity to escape from his elegant home. You had managed to break the intricate locks on the heavy front doors with the help of some good old technological malfunction. Your heart was hammering so fast against your ribs as you swung the doors open that you thought you would die from heart attack (though the doctor would without no doubt bring you back to life). You knew the security cameras would get you on film, but you did not care. Not when you were so close to getting your old life back.

Oh how you missed your boring lazy days by the window of your living room, just lazing the day away with a silly romance manga and a stupid movie on in the background. You missed the days that Veritas had called unproductive and a waste of time and brain power. There was a time you had pinned for him from the distance at the small cozy cafe you both had frequently visited. You had been over the moon when the handsome man had taken a seat at your table and struck up a conversation about the classic you were reading. He had told you it was one of his favourite for years (however you weren’t sure if that was a lie or not).

You cast a glance back at the empty manor, the newly polished hard floors reflected the orange light of the soft afternoon sun. The same colour as his beautiful eyes. The eyes that always saw through you. Should you really run?

No! How could you think such things? You shook your head as you took off in a run. You had to be quick. He would be back. You knew that the location where the seminar took place was not far away from his home. Your home, but not anymore. Your lungs screamed as you ran. The sun was warm against your bare arms. The wind played with your hair like a lover would, raking its fingers gently through your strands. It reminded you of him. You clenched your teeth together. Now was not the time for reminiscing.

You don’t know how long you ran for, but it had to be hours. Your legs were aching so much they were shaking. Blood were rushing through your head so fast you could only hear the stream off blood. Your face had reddened and cold sweat stuck your t-shirt to your skin. Your vision was blurry and your breathing shortened as you wheezed. You had only gotten so far. Ratio’s house was on the outskirts of the city and you weren’t familiar with the area. You had ran in circles and despair had started to bloom in your chest. It was an ugly feeling and you wanted nothing more to throw it up together with your lunch. You contemplated to back home, but then he would by no doubt strengthen the security. But maybe you could convince him to give you freer rains? You groaned out loud as your thoughts were at war with each other’s.

You didn’t know how you found yourself before the gates of Ratio’s estate, but there you where. He was standing in the door way, his muscular arms crossed and his handsome face unreadable. With a bowed head you made your way over the gravel and up the small steps to him: your captor. You were nothing but defeated and you wanted to turn away and run, but for some reason found yourself unable to. Something was wrong with you, that was for sure. When you were only an arm’s length away from him, his arms uncrossed and he reached on off them out.

“I am glad you took to logic and returned home to where you belong. I was worried about you” his deep voice had softened and you felt sick. “Stay with me and I will keep you safe from everything” Veritas pulled you into an embrace “I love you [Name]. Remember that. Everything I do is for you.” You however missed the smug smile that tugged on his lips.

Gallagher

Gallagher was an enigma. Everything about him was a mystery that you could only hope to unravel. His past was a puzzle with pieces you couldn’t piece together. Why you became his subject of his obsession was nothing but a mystery. He had treated you kindly, but when you voiced that you wished to return to reality, his face had turned uncharacteristically hard, his warm red eyes turned cold and dark and his lips turned into a strained line. He had only said “no” with such finality you were taken aback. After that you had spent days planning your escape. Gallagher was a smart man and despite his supposedly carelessness he was always watching.

You had managed to slip through the cracks of the window and down onto the cold ground of the Dreamflux Reef. You were wearing soft slippers in order to make as little sound as possible. You slipped past the streets quietly, making sure none of the residents saw you. Everyone knew each others and everyone trusted Gallagher, if they saw you they would without doubt tell him and bring you back to his arms. You were still unfamiliar with the streets of the Dreamflux Reef and you tried to orientate yourself as you made your way towards where you thought the lift to where the “surface” might be. You passed multiple black hound statues and you tried to shake of the unease they gave you.

You let out a sigh of relief as you reached the elevator. The lift was nowhere to be seen and you could only wait for it to come back down. The shaft was empty and you stared down at the gaping abyss. The minutes ticked by and cold sweat had begin to coat your temples. The hinges started to screech as the lift slowly but surely made its way down. You cast a look over your shoulders to be sure you were all alone. Time was running out. The lift let out a soft ding and you turned your head back towards it.

Your blood froze and your eyes widened as a pair of blood red eyes stared back at yours. Fuck. You tried to turn on your heel and make a run for it, but the gate of the lift opened and out sprung a strong hand. He pulled you back and held you still with such strength that shouldn’t be possible for a human. “Where do you think you are going?” his tone was cold and hard. Gallagher’s usually sleazy voice was completely gone. “You are not leaving me. Ever” strong arms caged you in and all you could smell, see and feel was him.

Gepard

The snowy landscape of Beloborg was unbearable. Your boots sunk into the snow making walking hard and running near impossible. The harsh wind whipped against your cheeks. Your eyes were teary due to the cold weather. Thick snowflakes fell down from the grey skies enveloping everything in a thick white blanket. It was impossible to see more than a few meters in front of you.

A yell came from somewhere behind you in the dense snowfall. You could recognise the raw and desperate voice anywhere. The captain of the Silvermane Guards, Gepard. The same man who held you imprisoned in his home for your protection.

Cold air gripped your lungs in a searing hold every time you inhaled as you started to sprint. The snow was like the quicksand in the ancient books you had read in the library when you were younger. Your earlobes were raw and icy and you were sure they would fall off. The tip of your fingers were pale and under other circumstances, you would have been worried, but now was not the time.

You rounded a corner of an abandoned house with smashed windows. A figure appeared out of the snow storm in front of you. The silhouette leaped forward and dragged you closer by your hand.

“Why on earth are you running away? Don’t you know how dangerous it is out here?!” Gepard’s voice was loud and laced with panic. His blue eyes were wide as the quickly raked over you, looking for any injuries. “You could have been killed! Do you understand?” his voice died down as he pulled you into a tight huge. “You are going back home with me. It seems like I will have to upgrade the locks” he whispered against your hair as he kissed your head. “I love you.”

Jiaoqiu

The foxian was a cunning man who was overly cautious regarding you. He had experienced much pain and suffering, which explained why he treated you like porcelain doll and why he refused you to leave his home. He had put in a lot of thought when it came to preventing your escape. He had however, not thought of the possibility that you would smash the living room window and climb out.

The sharp edges of the broken glass had pierced through your forearms and sliced them open, causing warm red rivers to run down your skin and soil your clothes. You clenched your jaw tightly shut as you jumped out and landed rather graceless on the soft grass underneath. You should stop the bleeding, but freedom was calling. A call that you couldn’t ignore.

Your legs ran as fast as they could and the pain in your arms had dulled to nothing but a sting in the back of your mind. Your eyes were wide as you scanned your surroundings for the familiar pink hair. Being caught now would by no doubt bring you more punishments than you had ever experienced and that was something you wished to avoid (naturally). Your traditional Xianzhou- style slippers slapped against the cobblestone as you rounded corner after corner. You needed to either find a Cloud Knight or a Starskiff. You abruptly stopped in your tracks as you heard the approaching footsteps coming from around the corner of the alleyway. The hairs on the back of your neck rose and you knew who was approaching. You spun on your heal and were about to take off when you heard the all too familiar gentle voice.

“Where do you think you are going?” his tender voice had a biting edge to it. You didn’t need to turn around to know he was furious. All your resistance vanished and your feet were stuck to the ground. Fury and disappointment was oozing from the foxian behind you.

You slowly turned around. His handsome face was twisted into a deranged smile. His ears were slightly pinned back and his fangs barred. You gulped at the sight.

“Not going to explain yourself?” He tilted his head slightly. His smile widened further as he took a step forward and reached for your arm. Even though he was unable to see you expression, he was able to hear your frantic heartbeat. “I won’t ever let any harm fall upon you. Ever. I cannot bear to lose you. You understand, don’t you? You wouldn’t let an old man like me suffer again, am I right?” his arms wrapped around your arms, trapping you. He inhaled your scent like a ravenous beast and you felt like those who had had the misfortune of being his prey and suffered the strike of his butcher knife. You were trapped.

Jing Yuan

People were going to die for this. People were going to die because of you. Blood would be on your hands. You would have to live with it for the rest of your life and there was nothing you could do about it. It was too late. It was too late when you had stepped foot out of the sanctuary you and the general shared. The general who was so in love with you it made him mad. He was a dangerous man.

You could hear the blood splattering in the not-so-far distance. He was close, almost breathing down your neck. You regretted ever asking for directions. You regretted escaping. The screams grew louder and the sickening sound of a claymore slicing through flesh became more audible. You prayed to whatever Aeon that might listen that he wouldn’t find you. You had hid behind a closed kiosk in the rather empty and forgotten street. You closed your eyes tightly together as you tried to steady your breathing. The cries stopped and the air fell eerily silent. Your hairs stood on end and your instincts told you to run. But where could you run? The alley was a dead end.

“[Name]. I know you are there. Please come out. I won’t hurt you.” Jing Yuan. He sounded oddly calm and it only made you more anxious.

“You are safe. I promise. You know I keep my promises, don’t you” no he didn’t. He hadn’t kept his promise when he told you, you would be able to roam freely outside of the house and away from him. It was all a lie, a lie he had crafted in the name of protecting you.

You didn’t scream, you didn’t hide and you didn’t run when he crossed the corner of the kiosk where you were crouched behind. He gently smiled down at you, revealing his charming dimples. “There you are my love. Let’s get you home” if he was angry, he didn’t show it. Jing Yuan’s soft white hair was speckled with crimson and his clothes stuck to his form soaked with blood. The scent of iron clung to him, but he didn’t seem to care. He noticed your frightened expression as your eyes raked over him and his face softened. “My apologies, you shouldn’t see me like this. How tactless of me” he scooped you up in his arms like you weighed nothing, and to him you probably did. “Let’s take a nice bath, shall we?” he kissed your cheek, blood smearing your skin and tainting you.

Luocha

Your eyes raked over the blackboard menu. The cafe had a great variety of tea and coffee and a lots of different cakes that looked mouthwatering. What to pick. You ended up with getting a cup of apple and cinnamon tea and a slice of chocolate cake. You found a table in to corner of the restaurant, hidden away but with clear view of the entrance. In case he decided to show up. You lifted the beautiful tea cup up to your lips. It’s floral design pink and red with hints of green. You tried to take a sip from the steaming hot tea, but your lips burned and you hissed out in pain. You gave it a few blows before enough sat it down again in order for it to cool. Your attention turned to the cake. It wasn’t too big nor was it too small. It was just right in size. The buttercream was fluffy and the cake spongy. You pushed the fork into your moth and sighed at the taste. It was truly delicious. You needed this. You deserved this after all the days you had been on the run from the travelling merchant.

You needed to unwind, only if just slightly. Your muscles were stiff from all the anxiety that constantly ran through your veins. If Luocha had been there he would have made your soreness disappear. He would take care of you, but that wasn’t enough. You wanted to be free, not chained to a man whose line of work was even more enigmatic than Mythus themselves. You were young, with dreams and a future ahead of you.

You held the tea had cooled down slightly and you lifted it to your lips once more. The sweet and round aroma of apple and cinnamon filled your nose as you inhaled. You took a big sip of the tea. It was just as good as you had imagined. You leaned slightly back in the vintage sofa as you continued to sip your tea. After a while you cake was finished and your tea cup empty. You decide to sit for a while to let the food digest. The minutes flew by and your eyes grew blurry. Your head started to drop, but you weren’t tired. Your arms had lost most of their strength and you struggled to grip the table as you tried to steady yourself. The cafe and the guests in, it all blurred together and all sound muffled.

In your hazy state you didn’t notice the approaching figure nor did you pick up on what he said.

“Thank you. This favour will be remembered.”

The footsteps came to an halt by your table. Your eyes were open, but your mind was somewhere far away. You had been drugged. Despite your weakened state, panic had taken over you and your breathing had turned rapid.

“Are you feeling sleepy, darling?” a soft chuckle followed. Cold long fingers brushed away a few strands from your damp and feverish forehead.

You let out a strangled whine. “You drugged me.”

“No no, I didn’t. It was the lady who owns this lovely cafe” he shushed you. Your eyelids pulled back slightly as you took in his face. He was akin to an angle, whose beauty made your heart ache. His green eyes sparkled like emeralds as he gazed down at you. “I have been following you since your little escape” he kissed your forehead, seemingly uncaring about your sweat. “You are so adorable. Sweet dreams” he kissed you one last time before he gathered you up in his strong arms. His soft hair gently tickling your cheekbones. Sleep awaited you and you could feel yourself slipping away slowly but surely, you could only dread what you would wake up to.

Moze

The shadows reached for you with boney hands. They were hungry for your flesh. You could feel him, even though you couldn’t see him. Just like he wanted. He was stalking you like a hungry wolf stalked a helpless lamb. You had rented a little flat. It was rather shabby with wires sticking out from the ceiling where lamps had hung before the landlord decided to take them down for whatever reason. The floor was creaky and you got splinters if you walked on it barefoot. It was a hellhole, but everything was better than being held prisoner by the assassin. He said it was for your own good, for your protection, but you found it hard to believe him. You weren’t anyone special so you doubted the dangerous men he spoke off would be after you.

Walking alone at night had always been dangerous (with Moze in your life or not). The Mara struck, gang members and men with evil intentions were all something to be cautious of. Though now you had to worry about the grey haired man. The streets were dark and the lamps flickered slightly. It was a shady place, one that you happened to live by. It was idiotic to be walking alone at night, but you had no choice. You were terribly hungry and all your food in the fridge had turned bad so you had no choice to take a trip to the only store that was open at this hour.

Footsteps sounded from the other end of the street, in the direction of the store. A heavy lump in your stomach formed at the sight of four haggard staggering men. The were all bigger and appalled than you and could without quickly overpower you should they want to. They had spotted you and one of them let out a low teasing whistle. It made bile rise up in your throat and fear spread through you. You had to act fast or this would be the end of you. However, before you even got to make the decision to fight or flee, a mist of black and purple appeared before you.

Faster than what your eyes could pick up, he had leaped forward and slashed through the men. Crimson blood spurted from their necks like a fountain and it rain down on Moze like warm summer rain. The sight made you sick and you had to bite your tongue in order to not throw up. He turned to face you with a determined expression. His hands were soaked with blood and the red coating coat the dim light in its reflection.

Suddenly he was in front of you. He gripped your face with his hands, for once not caring about the mess. “It’s dangerous without me” was all he said as he dragged you home. You should have known better. You would never escape him.

Mr. Reca

Escaping a Memokeeper was nigh impossible, but you would be damned should you not give it a try. It was no secret that the famed director Mr. Reca was insane. However, it was not known how far his insanity ran. He was nothing if not obsessive and his obsession with documenting memories was nothing like the obsession he had for you. Though he didn’t seem intimidating, save for his crazed eyes and unhinged behaviour, he was far from harmless. Even after all those long months of knowing him, you did not know about the true extent of his powers. Therefore you had to be extremely cautious when coming up with an escape plan. He had access to your memories and he could alter them at will (though he seemed to prefer not to as he wanted you to be just yourself, which was something you appreciated).

Your breath was ragged as you ran across the streets. You ran over the crosswalks without looking and you nearly ran multiple people over. You didn’t have time to look back. Not when freedom was waiting for you with open arms. Before you knew it you found yourself in an ally that led to a dead end. The sudden sound of a camera shutter going off sliced through the silence like a sharp blade.

“Brilliant! Truly magnificent! You are beautiful even utterly helpless! Oh am I glad I got this on camera” the energetic voice of the brown haired director made your blood freeze. In the blink of an eye he was in front of you, showing a black vintage camera in your face. “Smile darling! You are on video!” The shutter went off with the speed of lightning. “I shall call this documentary: “The Failed Escape Attempt”! What do you think my love? Isn’t that fitting?”

Mydei

The roars of the crown prince of Castrum Kremnos echoed across the ruins. The moon hung high in the black night sky, watching over you. You wanted to reach towards it, to feel her feather light touches. You envied her freedom.

Another battle cry sounded through the ruins and you picked up your pace. You had to get out of Kremnos before Mydei found you. You were running out of time, Mydei was after all a demigod whose strength far surpassed any human. He was fast, extremely so, and if he found you he would reach you before you even managed to blink.

Screams of dying titankin was getting closer, meaning your pursuer was hot on your tail. Your lungs were screaming at you to stop and the taste of blood filled your mouth. You jumped over lose stones and broken walls and you ducked between openings in the broken façade.

A red crystal appeared before you like a spear sent from the heavens above, stoping you in your tracks. You spun on your heels to run the other direction, but you collided in the hard chest that belonged to no other than Mydei. His hands were quick to take a hold onto your shoulders. The talons of his gauntlets burrowing in your flesh. You hissed out in pain as you tried to escape his grasp. He looked down at you with a deadly stare. His eyebrows were furrowed and the corners of his mouth pulled downwards in a frown. To say he was mad was an understatement. You could feel the fury radiate from his toned body, choking you in its intensity.

He didn’t say a word as he dragged you back to the room where he kept you. He steps were long and determined and you had to jog in order to keep up with his long legs. His back was tense and his muscles were strained. Multiple veins were popping out from his neck and arms, but he still controlled his grip on your forearms so it wasn’t too hard. Bruised had already started to form and it didn’t seem he noticed (or cared for that matter).

He flung the door open and threw you in. Mydei just stared at you silently before he closed the door. The lock clicked signalling the end of your short lived freedom.

Phainon

“Please come out” a twig snapped “I know you are there!”

You shrunk further into the bush. You hoped that the big boulder would be able to conceal you. Your ears were on alert and they picked up every little sound. You eyelids were peeled far back as they scanned your surroundings.

“[Name]! Where are you?” his was getting closer. His voice was loud and frantic. You could clearly hear his worry that bled through his words. You knew he would stop at absolutely nothing in order to get back what was his.

Phainon was a possessive man and his possession spiralled further out of control for each day that passed. His sweet caring façade had started to crack and underneath lurked a madman. He was still overly sweet, so much so that it suffocated you. His overprotective behaviour was overwhelming and you felt as if he was breathing down your neck every second off your waken moment, always making sure you were alright. You were confined to his home in Okhema, the holy city. His house were rather spacious, yet you felt the walls creeping in, squeezing you against their weight.

The boulder that cowered the bush was thrown away with enough force that it shattered. Deranged icy blue eyes stared unblinking down at your pitiful form. His clothes were ripped from running through the dense woods and his face was littered in small cuts. Though it didn’t seem he had noticed them. For his attention was only on you. As it always was. For Phainon it was always you. No one else could even hope to rival the intense love he held for you. His nostrils were flared as he inhaled and exhaled fast. He leaned down and kneeled in front of you. He mad himself smaller as he reached a hand out towards you as if you were a scared animal (though there was some truth in that).

“I won’t hurt you” Phainon’s voice was soft. A small smile tugged on his lips when you hesitantly took his hand. “Good girl” he gently stroked the back of your hand.

You stared down at your hand in his much bigger one, and you could see the chains tightening around your interlocked hands, forever chaining you to him.

“Let’s run us a nice hot bath. We can use your favourite soap if you would like” he spoke to you, but his words went unregistered by you. You could only watch as your freedom became further and further away from your out stretched hand.

Sampo

“Oh how I have missed you my dear!” arms leaped out from the shadows, knocking the air out of you. Your throat ran dry. How did he manage to find you in Penacony? You had left Jarilo-IV as soon as the planet opened up for interstellar travel. You had thought you would be safe. Safe from this lunatic.

You tried to wriggle out of his hold, but he was way too strong. “Let me go” you sneered.

“Nah ah! No can do! Not when I finally have you in my arms again” Sampo tightened his hold on you like a snake and he buried his head in your hair and inhaled. He let out a moan like the freak he was. Anger boiled within you.

“Let. Me. Go. Now!” you sneered louder this time. He only tsk-ed as he placed a kiss on your cheek.

“You’re so adorable when you’re angry” he snickered. He let go of you with one of arms as he reached up and pinched your cheek. “So cute!”

“I told you I never wanted to see you again. Why can’t you get that into your thick skull?!” you pulled back from his grip.

At your harsh words his smile fell and his expression hardened. His usually bright and mischievous eyes narrowed and the hand that been pinching you fell to his side. He swallowed slowly “Oh really? Is that so…” His eyes flickered from yours down to his feet and up. “You really should be kinder to good ol’ Sampo.”

“And why should I? You kidnapped me! You fucking psychopath!” you hissed through gritted teeth.

“Because your family is still in Belobog. I know where they live. I mean, of course I do, I know everything about you after all” his voice were more serious than what it usually was. He lowered his tone “It would be a shame if anything were to happen to them.”

Colour drained from your face as you stared up at him in horror.

“Just kidding! Haha you should have seen your face!” he gave you another kiss, this time longer lasting and more possessive. “But seriously though, don’t do anything stupid” he whispered.

Sugilite

The maid walked with hurried steps as she dragged you through the magnificent hallways of the mansion that belonged to one of the Ten Stonehearts. Her hold on your wrist was tight and it would by no doubt leave bruises. Her heels clicked against the dark mahogany flooring and it was a stark contrast to your hushed steps. Your socks were slippery against the newly polished floor and you had to concentrate in order to not slip and fall. Your heart was drumming against your chest.

She said nothing as she pulled you closer and closer to the awaiting wolf. The wolf who didn’t seem to ever get enough of you. He was a monster. A true beast that took on the skin of a human and lived along side them. Sugilite was a man many feared and that with good reason. He took pleasure in ruining people’s lives and he often told you about those instances over dinner (much to your dismay).

She swung the tall doors open that lead to the main living room. She bowed deeply before she fully entered. “Here she is, my Lord.”

She yanked your hand and you followed her inside. The room was dimly lit by only candles and a violet lamp that stood by the corner. The curtains of large windows that overlooked the garden was drawn open, letting the pale moonlight through. The master of the house himself was sitting comfortably in a deep velvet arm chair. His tapped his fingers against the deep purple armrest as he looked up at you. His legs were crossed and he reminded you of a king sitting upon his throne.

“Running away?” he chuckled “Not the wisest decision really…” He turned to the maid. “You are dismissed” he waved his hand.

With a bow she hurried out of the room as fast as she could without running. Sugilite’s attention was yet again on you. “Did she drag you?”

You swallowed before you shook your head. “No” you muttered. The maid had been nasty, but you didn’t want her to face any consequences. Not by the hands of someone as eager as Sugilite.

“Oh yeah? Then why is your hand all red?” he rose his brow.

Your mouth ran dry “It’s nothing.” You quickly hid it behind your back.

“I don’t believe you. Not that it matters. I needed some new staff anyway. Consider this you doing me a favour” a grin spread across his face. “Aww don’t look so beat up. You got yourself to worry about, no need to worry about her”. “I won’t take your little stunt so lightly. I have spoiled you too much” at your fearful expression he laughed. “Take a good look at the outside, because it’s going to be a long time till you will see it again.”

Sunday

You were strapped to a sky blue embroidered chair. It was antique and looked like it belonged in a museum. “You have wounded me” Sunday’s melodic voice sounded from your left. He was behind you, slightly leaning down. His hands were clasped behind his back, his back straight. You tried to tug on your restraints, but the white fabric only dug into your skin, making it red with irritation. The pleasant scent of his refined cologne (one that without doubt cost more than what you had earned in a month when you were still allowed to work) filled your nose as you breathed short breaths. The normally calming scent had now turned into nothing more than the stench of impending doom. The feathers of his wing gently brushing against your cheek and you were once again reminded of the tale of the helpless bird he had saved when he was a child. He had often referred you to said bird and he often mused over your likeness.

He had kept you in a gilded cage (both metaphorical and literally), but he had understood the need for you to stretch your legs. Boredom was the killer of the mind. Sunday had preached to you about the paradise he was building he promised you that you would get the best treatment of all. Everyday he drilled into you the dangerous of the outside world, the weak could not survive on their own after all, and for each day that passed by, the more you believed him.

Had it not been for a careless newly employed servant who had left the door open by a mistake, it would not be certain that you would ever try to escape. You had been terrified, but the allure of the outside world was too strong. You had only gotten a few hundred meters from the Dewlight Pavilion, when the familiar feeling of being watched crept over you.

It had all happened so fast. Rainbow shapes flooded your vision and something familiar yet foreign invaded your mind, taking control like one would a puppet. His voice echoed from within your mind, speaking words you could not understand. Then blackness took over and your body fell into his arms.

“I have been perfectly clear that wandering outside of the walls off the estate it strictly forbidden. Any transgressions against this rule will be punished” you couldn’t see him, but you could feel his presence like the blade of an executioner. You had been clinging to your sanity for so long, but you could now feel it slowly slipping between your grasp. An invisible blade pierced through your mind and thoughts alike, making you whine in agony. The pain was unbearable and breathing became difficult. You slumped forward as much as the bindings let you, the fabric cutting into your chest like a knife.

“It’s time you learn your place. I have shown you so much kindness, yet I get nothing back in return” Sunday was now in front of you with his hands folded in front of him. The dim lighting of the office made his face eerily beautiful. You tried to say something, but your words got stuck in your throat. His brows furrowed as if he had heard your protests (and knowing him he probably could). His mouth flattened into a thin line. “I have been nothing but mercifully, but you have ignorantly ignored it and only given me coldness in return. It is only in due time that I do this” his voice was icy and completely devoid of humanity. “Relax and the pain will be brief. I am doing this because I love you.” The familiar darkness swept over you once again.

Welt

The scent of coffee from the small coffee shop you and found yourself in was overwhelming. You had been quick to escape the Express after it had stopped on a small planet for some errands. Your eyes scanned the soundings for your captor and you sighed in relief when he was nowhere to be seen. The familiar sight of red hair made you pause. Himeko? Hope washed over you and you made your way towards her with quick steps. She was sitting at a corner table, sipping a cup of black coffee. Her eyes widened when they spotted you and she waved you over.

“[Name]?” she tilted her head in confusion. “What are you doing here?”

“Himeko! You’ve got to help me! It’s Welt. He has gone absolutely mad!” the words had already spilled from your lips before you had blinked.

“Mad? I don’t think I understand…” she rose her eyebrow.

“No please believe me! He has held me captive in his room for all this time! He is fucking insane!” you took a seat upside of her and spoke with a frantic hushed tone. You looked over your shoulder from time to time, looking for the familiar brown eyes.

She sighed. “[Name], it’s Welt we are talking about. I want to believe you, but he is the kindest man I have ever met. He is my best friend and I doubt he would ever do such thing.”

Why didn’t she believe you? You blinked at her with disbelief. “I swear I am telling the truth! You have to help me!” you plead. Tears stung behind your eyes, but you refused to let them fall.

She chuckled defeatedly like a mother would when her child told her about their imaginary monsters. She gently patted your hand that was curled into a fist in the table. “Don’t worry too much, Welt is a good man.”

“Listen to me! I swear I am telling you the truth!” you cried out in anger and frustration.

Her golden eyes flickered up at something behind you before they flickered back down at you.

“Thank you Himeko. I owe you one” a deep baritone rattled through your chest. Cold sweat coated at your neck and you couldn’t get yourself to turn around. If you did it would all be too real.

A big hand rested on your shoulder.

“Of course. This is the least I could do. I am sorry [Name], but I can’t help you” Himeko gave you a pitiful look.

Filled with betrayal you glared at Himeko. “How could you” you sneered though it was no more than a broken whisper. Despite your hurtful tone, she only softened her gaze.

The hand on your shoulder gave you a gentle squeeze as his thumb drew circles. “Let’s go back, love. You have had enough adventure for today” a soft kiss was pressed to your cheek.

You glanced back at Himeko as Welt led you out of the cafe. His arm was secure around your waist as if he was afraid you would fly away with the autumn wind.

Taglist:

@dimestrella @hoo-hoo @yae-yu127 @deathrespect @1mlilith @pinkvoidfishcash @justboredforreal

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jjenthusee · 8 months ago

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Home Date

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: A sudden injury leads to Jason facing a glimmer of his past, but it unintentionally leads to the people who care for him most realizing they didn’t have to worry at all. That you were there for him.

Warnings: injury, but not very descriptive

Word Count: 1.2k

“Jay, it hurts so bad.” You exhaled, squeezing your eyes to get yourself to focus.

“I know, Sweetheart, but we have to move you. I need someone to take a look at ya.” Jason gently cusped your face, rubbing at the edges of your jaw. “Please. We can reschedule the date.”

He kneeled in front of you, his hair long enough to touch the top of his eyelids as he looked up to you.

You winced as you leaned forward, trying to minimize the pain by pressing a hand onto Jason’s shoulder. The smallest movement shot pain up your leg.

Jason grabbed onto your forearm, pressing into your skin to remind you he was there.

“I don’t know what happened. I heard a ‘pop’ and now I can’t move my leg without it hurting.” You were shaking at trying to hold yourself steady, standing at an awkward position. “I can’t move—Jay, I don’t know what to do.”

You gripped his shoulder harder and fear looked into Jason’s eyes as he watched you panic.

Jason looked up at your wincing face, calculating all the routes he could take and what his next steps could be before he felt his face calm and his grip on you strengthened.

With a calm acceptance, he spoke.

“I’m taking you to the manor.” Jason kissed your temple. He wasn’t willing to take any chances.

With painful steps and many breaks leaning into Jason’s weight did you make it into a car to drive off to the one place Jason had been avoiding.

He didn’t like the drive, how it reminded him of so many things, but you were a priority and he was scared shitless at facing something he wasn’t ready for.

It was like flashes in Jason mind.

Knocking on the door, the confused face from Alfred before he saw the person Jason was clutching so desperately. How Jason didn’t want to look around because the chill on his skin was enough of a reminder.

While at the manor, Jason paced back and forth into the cold, sterile building, holding his breath as he tried to think of all the possibilities.

Does he need to grab anything on his way back? Did you eat before this? How long would he be in the manor? Should he pick you up some clothes?

“—Jason.” Bruce’s husk voice filled the hallway.

Jason’s pacing immediately stopped. Like his body ingrained the commanding voice from his Robin days more than his mind.

He had buried the memories as far down as he could, but once an animal learns a trick, can he ever forget it?

“Alfred said you can come back in.” Bruce held the door open, waiting.

Jason had been chased out earlier, constantly overlooking and trying to get verbal confirmation that you were okay. The pestering had Alfred giving him a stern look that had Bruce ushering him outside.

It was awkward.

The long thirty minutes had Jason’s skin crawling. He held his posture straighter, hoping the extra height over Bruce would somehow ease his mind that he was tougher, stronger than the young boy who once walked these halls.

“We’ll make sure everything is fine—“

“That’s why I’m here.” Jason sternly interrupted Bruce’s attempt at comfort as he held a glare, feeling his hands tense the longer he was separated from you.

He had to make it obvious that that was the only reason why he crawled back, the reason for all the blocking and erasing of his presence at every moment.

Silence.

It was always lingering in the manor and Jason hated every second of it.

Until he heard the sound of your voice, faint and coming from the open door Bruce still held.

Jason quickly forgot all his hatred and awkwardness when he walked up to your side. Trying to make sure you were still there, physically.

With one hand resting on your head, rubbing and feeling the warmth of your skin did Jason finally breathe. He could feel his body release some of the strain.

Alfred gave the run down, what to avoid, how to proceed if the pain gets worse. But all it came down to was some rest and monitoring.

Jason took mental notes of everything. Creating a plan in his head took all his attention to even notice the subtle looks from Bruce and Alfred at the sudden appearance of the stubborn, angry son.

The looks of wonder at watching the changes of Jason in real time, how tender yet protective he was of you. How he was willing to suddenly appear when he verbally reminded everyone how much he hated being there.

You grabbed Jason’s hand.

“Breathe, Jay. We can go home.” You whispered, enough to catch his attention.

Despite the recovering pain, you could only worry for the man losing his mind but trying his hardest to keep it together for your sake.

With a soft gaze and the feel of sweat on your brow, Jason knelt to make his face level with yours.

You felt the brush of his breathe on your cheek. In that moment, you were happy he was listening to your words.

With a small smile, you rubbed his hair, clearly messy from him grabbing at it constantly, but you tried to make your own protective cave with your body and arms to cradle Jason’s head. Giving him the space to breathe and calm his mind in his madness that he tried to still.

You tiredly glanced at your two audience, they saw how trusting Jason was of you and how you showed your own calm determination to protect the broken man in your arms.

Maybe it was the drowsiness or your own blurry glare, but you could have sworn that the older broody man, strangely an aged copy of Jason, had a subtle smile before he walked away, disappearing into the darkness.

After the medication kicked in, you don’t remember how you got home, but the realization of a new change of clean clothes and the smell of food was enough to know you were safe again, that Jason was safe.

He always knew you so well that in the next blink of your eyes, he appeared at your side of the bed.

He was always good at that, knowing you more than yourself.

In a small kiss on your cheek, Jason rubbed his face onto yours, basking in the physical touch.

“I made food. I want you to at least take a couple bites.” Jason softly spoke.

You felt his hair tickle your head and you couldn’t help but smile.

“It smells great.” You rubbed back.

“It might hurt, but I’ll help you walk to the couch.” He suggested.

You groaned at the thought of moving, the memories of the pain coming back.

“We can watch movies, watch the sunset, and maybe take a nap?” Jason tried to coax, grabbing your hand to kiss your fingertips.

“Fine, but I get to pick the movie.” You mindlessly watched Jason kiss each of your fingers.

In slow motions, you were making your way to the living room as Jason tried to make it as painless as possible.

It wasn’t the planned date you expected, but home dates with Jason were always your favorites.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd #red hood #writing #dc

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grimmsbride · 4 months ago

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big flirt …. ! ₊ཾִ ᖫྀ ⁣⁣.

mark grayson ╲ the almighty invincible has no problem showing his lovely girlfriend how beautiful she truly is..

𖥔 ࣪˖ author’s notes⠀⎯ the way mark canonically likes woman of all sizes just does something to me. he took one look at eve and truly dngaf about her size 😭. as always please enjoy this fic and excuse any grammar mistakes

You hated the internet. The way people crawled from their little depths of hell, fingers slamming into whatever keyboard they could find; typing hatred laced with the most obvious passive aggression that made you want to vomit.

You thought superheroes would be exempt from such scrutiny, maybe they people realize hey, these people save my life on a daily basis— maybe i should cut them some slack! But no, of course such a case was nothing more than wishful thinking.

Posts upon posts of blatant disrespect always collected in some random corner on the web, you unfortunately coming across most of them the moment you searched your super-hero name.

While some posts were.. okay, others were just downright horrible.

Your finger slid across the mouse, the page that shined on your features sliding with the action. A grimace collected on your face as your eyes took in the words before you;

Does she need a bigger suit?

There’s no way she works out everyday. I swear she was at least a little smaller last time she appeared on a camera.

I know the saying, “a camera adds extra pounds” but.. I don’t think we can blame the camera anymore!

You shouldn’t let those words get to you. You were a woman of honor, a superhero praised for your efforts and respected amongst the your peers. And after all, it was all just internet strangers hiding behind their screens. They didn’t personally affect you.

Still, you couldn’t help but feel that familiar trickle of shame filled warmth slide down your spine— pooling deep in your stomach. That was the downside of being a hero— scratch that, a woman being a hero; always on display, and always judged so, so harshly.

You were stolen from your thoughts the moment a hand suddenly shut your laptop, another gripping the chair you currently sat in and spinning it around. Quickly your gaze settled upon your beloved boyfriend, Mark Grayson. So caught up in your self-loathing, you nearly forgot he was over on a rare day off, having just showered — curtesy of the towel around his bare shoulders, and the droplets of water amongst his hair.

You gave a nervous smile, quickly spotting that little furrow of his eyebrows. The man wasn’t one to get irritated with you, but when he did— it wasn’t a pretty sight.

“Enjoy your sh—“

“I thought I said to stop looking at stuff like that.” Mark murmured softly, releasing your chair and rising, grasping the towel on his shoulders to dry his hair. You watched, a little too greedily; taking in the way his arms flexed with the movement, toned stomach on display as the sweats he wore hung on his waist so loosely.

“It’s just stupid people online.”

His next words eliminated your perverted thoughts quickly, a sigh soon escaping you as you leaned back into the chair.

“I know.” You breathed, eyes traveling to the side for a moment. “It’s just.. no one ever talks about anything else. I know I’m a little big—“

“Quit saying that too.”

Mark interrupted you with ease, tossing the towel he had to the side before moving to his knees. His hands rose, warm and large, covering your bare thighs before sliding up to your waist. The man rested his cheek upon your flesh, playing with the fabric of your shirt.

“You’re perfect. You don’t need to change a thing.”

You couldn’t help the cheeky smile pulling your lips, eyes even rolling as your hand fell to tangle into his damp hair, “Mark, you’re supposed to say that. You’re my boyfriend, after all.” You giggled, feeling the way his fingers tightened just a bit in response.

Mark turned to rest his chin onto your thigh, chocolate pools focusing on you entirely. “That may be true. And I’ll say it as many times as you need me to.”

“Cheesy..”

It was his turn to grin, hands trailing down to your thighs once again, pressing his fingers into the warm flesh.

“But.. that didn’t only start when we started dating. I always thought you were perfect beforehand too.”

With a turn of his wrist, Mark began to ghost the underside of your thighs, watching the way you twitched at the tickling sensation. Your hips adjusted, glancing down at the man through your lashes;

“Really?”

“Really.”

You gasped the moment he grabbed your thighs tightly, easily lifting you from the chair whilst bringing himself to his feet. Instinctively your arms wrapped around his neck, feeling his hands travel to cup your ass, holding your body flush against his own.

“You know..” Mark spoke lowly, leading himself backwards until he sat on your bed. There, his legs spread, hands pressed down on your hips so you wouldn’t even think about raising off his lap. He looked at you intently, thumb breaching the edge of your shirt to glide across your skin; tracing a stretch mark etched into the flesh.

“I was always obsessed with you.. Your name, your smell, your, “ His eyes carried down your form, “—body. I didn’t know a person could be as perfect as you.”

“Mark..” You begun, whimpering the moment his fingers clenched, rolling his hips just to buck up into you. The growing bulge underneath his sweats nudged against your barely veiled center so perfectly, making your body grow just a bit hotter.

“There were some nights,” The man continued as if listing off a grocery list, as casual as ever, all while continuing to roll his hips every once in a while just to hear you whine. “—I would lay in bed, unable to sleep because you were on my mind.”

You wanted, no needed him to be quiet. He’s barely touched you, has only spoken, yet you already felt yourself losing focus. You gasped the moment he drew closer, feeling soft lips press against the side of your face before traveling to your chin and neck.

“The only way I could even sleep was touching myself to the thought of you.”

“Mark— oh my god.”

You cried softly, feeling his hips move with more purpose, more vigor. A hand of his rose from your waist to instead collect the back of your skull, tilting you how he liked before capturing your lips in a heated kiss. The man wanted to devour you— all of you. Rid those stupid thoughts circulating your head and replace them with nothing but pleasure.

Mark breathed into your mouth, gripping your plush form as he proceeded to manually move you, rolling your hips back against his own rolling ones. He felt your cunt pressed up against him through your panties and shorts, shuddering as the dampness of your center soaked onto his sweats.

You broke apart for air, resting your forehead against his own as little moans escaped you. Your nails dragged across his exposed skin, pulling yourself even closer to him as a sweet whisper of his name fell from your lips.

Mark never allowed his eyes to leave your face, lidded yet focused on you, and only you. His lips parted, watching you, soft huffs escaping as he bucked up. He groaned at the friction, soon leading himself to lay on his back.

Your hands dragged to his stomach, pressing there as you continued to move your hips desperate for more. As delicious as it felt, it certainly wasn’t enough. You craved much more.

“Mark…” You whimpered so feebly, feeling the way his fingers twitched at the call of his name. Said fingers trailed to the waistband of your bottoms, tugging quickly.

“I know baby, I know..” The man allowed you to rise up a bit, basically shoving your lower garments off whilst you focused on pulling his own down.

Once free of the confinements Mark’s hands were finding your hips against, lining you up with his dick before slowly pushing you down. A breath escaped the both you as your walls enveloped his length, your nails dragging across his skin as you took all of him so deeply.

“Look at that, just perfect.” Mark murmured, clearly the entranced by the way your bodies connected. He couldn’t help but focus there, feeling your walls pulse around him with each breath that escaped you. His hands cupped your form, flesh filling his palms so easily— so perfectly. His eyes flicked to your face the moment you whined, watching your hands fall to his wrist.

Mark grinned a bit, seeming to innocently adjust his hips when really he bucked into you, watching your lidded eyes fly open as the sweetest gasp escaped you.

“I don’t think you get how lucky I really am, having all of you to myself.” His words were quickly overcome by the soft squelches of your pussy the moment he began to thrust up into you. Your nails dragged across his skin, a pleasured hiss escaping his lips in response. His gaze greedily lapped at the way your face screwed up in pleasure, lips parted as you moaned.

“Mark.. baby, please..”

“Yeah.. Allll to myself.”

The man giggled softly, as if delirious off your body. It wasn’t that much of a stretch really, Mark was entirely crazy about you. Those thoughts at night didn’t stop the moment you solidified your relationship, maybe they even grew.

Only now the man was lucky enough to have every single fantasy come true.

Your hips rolled as you met each thrust with your own uncoordinated rut, head knocking against your shoulders as your eyes squeezed shut. Mark fucked up into you as if you weighed nothing, and you probably didn’t to him, curtesy of the Viltrumite blood running through his veins. Your hands slipped from his wrists to instead settle upon his stomach, dragging angry red lines into his flesh.

A particularly hard thrust had you toppling over with a gasp, landing upon his chest. Mark took this opportunity to wrap his arms tightly around your waist, feet going flat on the bed as he drilled into you.

You twisted and turned, unable to run from the pleasure as he made you take every single thrust. Your cunt clenched around him, arousal trickling and forming a foamy ring around the base of his cock, a complete sticky mess. You cried out as the feeling overtook your body, intoxicating and addicting, yet so, so much. Your hand brushed against his hip, a mantra of his name escaping in sloppy speech;

“Ma..mark, baby! Pleas— please slow down..!”

“Mm.” Mark hummed defiantly, lips pressing against your face with the sweetest kisses whilst completely wrecking your body. Soft breaths fanned across your skin, his nails digging into your flesh and refusing to let go. With each thrust a wet plap bounced off the walls of your bedroom, urging him even more.

“Feel so good baby.. you were made just for me, fu—fuck what anyone else says.”

Through hurried breaths he spoke, groaning the moment he felt your cunt clenching around him with each word. A hand dragged down to your ass, gripping the warm flesh as Mark stroked that spongy spot inside.

A melodic string of moans escaped your throat, incoherent babbles that oddly enough sounded like Mark! following shortly after. Your peak was closing in, detailed in the way you shook and gasped, cunt pulsing with each movement.

Mark coaxed you through it, whispering such sweet words right into your ear, lips brushing against the shell of it. His hands gripped at your shuddering body, praising every inch, detailing several more perverse fantasies just to hear you whine from embarrassment.

Soon enough you were reaching your end, coming undone with a final sob of his name, tears pricking at your eyes from the pleasure. You felt the man kiss at your cheeks, continuing to fuck into you as he chased his own end.

“Fuckkk.. Mark..!” You keened as he fucked you through your high, wet squelches covering every inch of the room.

Mark groaned softly, tugging you flush against his form as he slammed into you, “Almost there, pretty— almost there, I got you..” A soft swear fell from his tongue, teeth dragging against his bottom lip the moment he pushed himself deep, flooding you with his come.

Pants enveloped the room as Mark laid out amongst your bed, fingers dragging up and down your spine; delighted in the way you melted into him. He simply laid still, eyes focusing on coming down whilst laying so content under you.

Soon enough you had calmed down, slowly rising to sit in his lap, hands smoothing across his body.

“You’re.. such a little pervert.” You murmured, watching the way a little flush of red spread across his face; as if truly embarrassed, as if he hadn’t just got done with fucking your brains out.

Mark rose to lean on his elbows, head tilting to rest on his shoulder as he looked up at you so lovingly.

“Yeah well.. I’m your little pervert.”

The man smiled the moment you began to giggle, eyes closing as you leaned to capture his lips. He was far too happy to wipe that previous grimace off your face with his actions.

Now to figure out who exactly made those posts about you..

#CHEMICAL KIDS fics* 𓈒 #chubby reader #black tumblr #poc writer #black reader #mark grayson #mark grayson smut #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson x reader smut #mark grayson x fem!reader #mark grayson x fem!reader smut #mark grayson x chubby reader #mark grayson x chubby reader smut

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rivalswrites · 4 months ago

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Hi! Could you write about how Magik, Iron Fist and Bucky would react to their s/o being jealous? I‘m so happy there is finally someone writing for Rivals😭

Jealousy headcanons

Before you read, please be warned that I'm writing based on my impressions of them not only in the game (though it's the biggest inspiration), but some of them with the movies/shows in mind too.

Characters: Magik, Iron Fist, Winter Soldier

Masterlist

I apologize for how short or long they are, I can never get them the same length even if I try😭

Illyana is someone many could easily adore at first sight. She's beautiful, strong, and a sweetheart if you're close enough to her. She attracts both men and women alike with just her looks, but most seem to back off when they get to know her attitude- lucky you! But of course, there's always that one person.

Seeing you get jealous over her is very flattering. She sees it as proof of loyalty (not that she needed it), proof that you loved her just as much as she did you. And she thinks it's funny seeing you get your boxers in a twist due to some random person she could care less about.

It’s rare for her to stop you, she loves the attention and love you end up giving her during and after the person was around. If she liked your affection before, she loved it more during these moments- your grip on her arm that sat around your shoulders was comforting.

Of course, she tries comforting you, a rough hand on yours as she told you just how much she loved you, how much you were superior to everyone around the two of you.

To her, you were the only person that truly mattered in a room (other than her brother and some friends, but that's different).

He's very, very flattered when you get jealous. It's obvious you love him, you're dating him, but to genuinely not like someone because they showed interest in him? Yeah, he'd never get used to that.

Your glare and hold on him has him blushing, leaning into your arms and trying to calm you down. Again, while it flatters him, he doesn't want anyone to get hurt or even genuine hatred to be held.

Lin is a very handsome man, so it's obvious people will look and even try hitting on him, it's common for you to have to beat people off with a stick while out on dates. Not literally, but people come up to him so much you've both decided at home dates are the better option.

He's got no complaints, obviously.

He wraps his arms around you in return and pats your back, reassuring you no one has his eye than you, and it usually helps. His quiet assurances are sweet and calming.

It's rare he shares the same sentiment, getting jealous that is. He's very assured that your relationship won't break over a random person: not to say you aren't as well.

Your jealousy makes him feel special though, in a way he doesn't often feel. He's never had a full relationship before, sure a side thing here and there, but never an actual- full fledged- relationship, and your swooning and protectiveness over him has his cheeks flushing red and a dumb little smile growing on his face

First of all, Bucky rarely goes out, you'd have to drag him by his good arm- or else he'll just detach the metal one and stay in bed.

Second of all, it's very easy to tell that Bucky is a very, very, handsome man. Guys and girls alike can find something attractive about him, and damn if you didn't know it.

If you're hanging out at a pub don't be surprised if you come back from the bar or bathroom to find someone trying to hit on him; much to your amusement that he isn't paying any attention to them. But that doesn't mean you can't get jealous.

You'll slide into the seat next to him and crawl up to his side, pulling him in almost aggressively (which he doesn't mind at all) and cradling his face, asking him if he missed you. Usually that gets people to leave, but again- sometimes there's someone who thinks they're special.

He'll play along, adding fuel to your fire and leaning all his weight on you, his arms wrapping around your shoulders and enjoying your coddling. Something about being so bored without you will be said and tends to be all that's needed to get the person to leave.

But even then, he won't let go. He'll keep his arms around you and start teasing you, laughing quietly at your show of love over him. But don't take it the wrong way, he would do the exact same thing if the scenario was vice versa.

Your jealousy over him is heartwarming, reminding him that you really do love him just as much as he does.

And he uses people flirting every time he goes out as an excuse to stay in with you, laying on you like a blanket on the couch and watching whatever show you wanted: he'd be paying more attention to you anyways.

----

Taglist: @ihrtsamwinchester

I always forget to tag until after I post 😭

#marvel rivals #marvel rivals x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #lin lie #x reader #iron fist x reader #lin lie x reader #marvel rivals magik #magik x reader #illyana x reader #illyana rasputin x reader #illyana rasputin #winter soldier x reader #marvel rivals winter soldier #marvel bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader

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mari-starz-writing · 1 month ago

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Can… I-i h-have 1-1x x… reader who acts like.. Sugarfly Cookie meow.

Of course, I'll try my best to do this. Anything for you, Harmony.

1x1x1x1 x Sugarfly Cookie!reader

・ She was curious about how gentle and sweet you were, even to other killers. He found it deeply annoying at first, but under closer inspection, started finding your calm nature... Comforting. They started trying to go around you more, still being quite rude, but you noticed that blush on her face.

・She was surprised that you would actually help them with his injuries after rounds where he was stunned so much. You'd lay her head on your lap and while petting it with one hand, you'd bandage up their injuries with the other, complimenting how strong they were and their beauty. He acted like she wasn't flustered, but... You could tell they were liking it.

・Before confessing, 1x1x1x1's interest in you was painfully obvious to the other killers. He wouldn't kill you, and if they did, it'd be painless. She would constantly talk about how graceful you were in that round. They'd have the only smile anyone has seen him have when looking at you. Jason, Azure, and John Doe didn't care much, c00lkidd thought of you as some sort of auntie, and Noli would constantly tease and make fun of 1x1x1x1 for it until he got hit square in the face.

・They confessed to you during a time where you had been patching up his injuries. She had closed her eyes and took a deep breath, before saying something along the lines of, "You are truly the most tolerable here. I'd like to... Propose the idea of us being partners." Of course you accepted. After all, they were quite the beauty in your eyes... How did the creation of Shedletsky's hatred love you of all people? That's what you wondered from that point on. It wasn't a bad thing, though... It was absolutely not a bad thing.

・He would do anything you ask, if she's being completely honest. Need the living room cleaned? "Angrily" vacuuming the floors. Oh, you're hungry after a round of being chased relentlessly?.. That meal is made, darling. You want some love? You're being dragged to the bed, thrown on and tightly cuddled. They'll act so mad and angry whenever he does something for you, but you can tell she's just trying to be tough.

・Whenever they're mad, you're the one to calm him down. You'll put a hand on their arm, gently rubbing it while smiling, a soft, slightly concerned look on your face. And you'll always manage to calm her down. Their payment? He can tell it can be annoying at times, so he'll try and protect you during rounds while pretending she can't see you, so that The Spectre won't be suspicious. A medkit will be "accidentally" thrown to you whenever they accidentally injure you. After all, those pretty, glistening wings of yours can't be hurt, even if you can't do anything with them.

・Sleeping in the same bed as 1x1x1x1 is a common occurrence, although it's always quite hard. He'll move around a lot, having to keep am arm constantly around you as to not have you fall off, or just put a pillow on the edge of your side. Even then, she'll occasionally wake up to the sound of you dropping to the floor... And then bring you back up, obviously. But once the two of you are asleep, it's calmer. Their legs are wrapped around you, and he's laying on top of your chest, your hand on her head.

・(ANGST) It makes them feel horrible whenever him or any of the other killers hurt you. When it happens, her movements are much slower, almost hesitant, as they slice you, quickly and as painlessly as they can get. The Spectre would be mad, after all. And the pain from that is much worse than a quick slice of the chest and a but of unconsciousness. ...he wishes she didn't have to do that.

・(SLIGHT ANGST) Since you're quite the people pleaser, they'll have to stand up for you at times, telling off some people for pushing you and guilt tripping you to do something. After, he'll give you a calm, thorough explanation on how your health matters more to her than anyone else's, and how seeing you hurt would make them so upset that he wouldn't know what to do.

・(PRE-FORSAKEN) The contrast in your outfit is admirable, and quite interesting to them. Those clunky metal boots with that elegant style of yours is beautiful, and he wants to make you know that. She'll occasionally save up some money to buy you some more clothes, and seeing that happy expression on your face as you try it on is more than enough for repayment.

I hope you enjoyed it, Harmony. Writing this was fun and...

...it may have given me a new crackship. What would this be called, anyway?.. Flyvirus? Flyrus? Infectious Sugar? Whatever.

Still, I hope you enjoyed this.

#forsaken x reader #forsaken roblox #roblox forsaken #forsaken #forsaken x you #1x1x1x1 #1x1x1x1 x reader #1x1x1x1 forsaken

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bweeeb · 7 months ago

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SWEETNESS

PEDRO PASCAL × READER

Summary: After an interview, the casua thing between you and Pedro ends up making the public suspect that he is not denying someone who is twenty-three years old.

warnings: nothing major, very cute, age difference but both are adults (obviously), bad writing maybe. Enjoy.

— So, according to the recordings, I think we all saw how close you two have become. How has that been?

You and Pedro smiled at the woman, who seemed to be around 35, interviewing you both.

The curiosity in her eyes was obvious.

— I think it’s been time well spent.

Pedro said, laughing and glancing at you, who was already laughing even before speaking.

— I think our characters demanded a connection of...

— Hatred and anger.

Pedro interrupted you, and you laughed loudly.

— Yes. That’s why I’ve been spending the past few months figuring out which tool is best for channeling hatred towards someone.

— Our makeup team has been covering up all the damage we’ve been doing to each other.

Pedro added, and your extravagant laughter made him laugh as well. You two really were doing some damage to each other, but that was your little secret.

— You can clearly see you can’t stand being around each other.

— No, we can’t.

You said with a smile, waiting for the next questio

— And the movie tackles a delicate theme about relationships and age gaps. What made you both accept such controversial roles? Especially you, Pedro...I’m sure you’ve broken all the minds of 20-something girls with this film.

— He definitely has.

— I don’t know what it is with you all nowadays, thinking an old guy like me is attractive. The conversation shifted back to you and Pedro, and the interviewer smiled with amusement. The chemistry between you two was undeniable, even more than you realized.

— Because you’re a man, you give off the feeling of being a man but don’t have to prove it. You know what I mean? You understand me?

You asked the interviewer, who nodded, agreeing that it was indeed a big difference.

— Of course, I’m a man, but an old one.

— Shut up and answer the question.

You said, laughing, as Pedro gave you a mock-offended look in his usual dramatic way.

— Honestly, I wasn’t going to take the role. When I got the audition, I just said, "Nope." But a lot of people kept telling me I’d be the perfect Nick for the book adaptation, and I hate disappointing my fans.

— So you still wouldn’t date someone in their twenties? Maybe?

— No.

Pedro quickly denied it, and you wanted to roll your eyes but didn’t.

— And you, darling?

Nice deflection, you thought, almost laughing at him.

— Ahm, I gave it a lot of thought, especially about the nude scenes I was informed of before accepting the role. I didn’t want to freak out my family. But once I learned more about the characters, I discovered the adaptation was from a book I love, so I couldn’t say no.

— That’s amazing. I heard you even got a real piercing for one of the scenes in the movie. Are you wearing it now?

The question was directed at you, and you smiled painfully, moving your hair away to reveal the piercings you got during filming.

— I added thirds and a helix. Yep, these guys are fine. — You pointed at the piercings farthest from the cartilage. — But I’ll be honest, this one is hurting a lot right now. I was even going to ask if someone could help me after this because it didn’t hurt this much when I got it done.

You laughed, and both the interviewer and Pedro looked at you with concern. Pedro leaned closer, moving your hair from your neck.

— Oh, crap, darling, it’s swollen. You need to take care of this. — He said in such a calm voice that even if the interview ended right then, the audience would already be glued to the screen. — Do you want to stop?

— I’m fine, thank you.

Without even realizing it, you brushed your thumb against Pedro’s wrist, where his hand rested on your neck to examine you.

Later, the interview was posted, and you almost laughed at how fast the channel edited it. Your ear was still throbbing like it was being pierced again, and lying on the couch, you felt like crying—not because it hurt that much, but because you hated the feeling of discomfort in your body.

— Darling?

You heard Pedro call you and looked over the back of the couch to see him smiling at you.

— Now I’ve finally wrapped everything up. No calls. Ugh. — He flopped onto the couch, and noticing your silence, he looked at you oddly. — What’s wrong?

— Nothing.

You denied it, not wanting to worry him.

— Look at me and say that.

He raised an eyebrow and laughed, sitting cross-legged on the couch.

— Nothing.

— Come on, baby, your ear is hurting, isn’t it?

You murmured your agreement. He then places a hand on your neck and places a kiss on your lips, you move closer, deepening the kiss until he pulls you into his chest, on the side that didn’t hurt.

— I’m sorry about this.

— It’s not your fault.

— No, but you seem exhausted by the pain, and I’m sorry for that.

— Thank you. Have you seen what everyone’s saying?

— I haven’t.

— You’re a terrible liar. They’re calling you a liar. You laughed, feeling comforted in his embrace.

— Me? A liar? Yo nunca mentiría.

— You’re a liar and ridiculously hot when you speak Spanish. “Oh, I’d never date anyone in their twenties,” and two seconds later, “And you, darling?”

— What’s wrong with that?

— Friends don’t call friends “darling.” Like, we’re friends who hook up, but you get my point.

You thought for a second and worried you’d sounded over the top in the classification you seemed to be giving you two.

— You’ve been the most argumentative exception I’ve ever made.

He said, and you nodded in agreement.

— I hope I am. I’d hate to find out another young woman took my spot as a legend.

— Legend for what?

— For being the youngest person in the world to hook up with the ridiculously hot Pedro Pascal. You said, and he laughed loudly. You didn’t know how far this would go, but you intended to enjoy the sweetness of that man for as long as it lasted

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

I hope everybody enjoy this.

Requests are opened!

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x ofc #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x you #fanfic #pedro pascal fanart #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedrito #cute #pedro pascal fic

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mr2swap · 6 months ago

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Stepdad and son time

-Calm down old man, A cigarette won't ruin “My” body-

My stepfather Steve smiled confidently at me and then flexed his huge arms just to reinforce his point.

-I even think they are a little bigger than the last time you saw them, right Steve?-

Despite being outdoors the powerful aroma that came from the smoke reached my nose, that aroma was so familiar, but at the same time it was different I could remember the taste, however I had never tasted one. It was the old and dry lips of my stepfather, those Who remembered the delicious and soothing taste of that horrible habit.

-Oh! How rude I have been... Do you want any of this?? -

Steve took a couple of steps towards me and held the cigarette towards my face, the same face he had left behind 3 years ago. I'm not sure how he did it, but I have no doubt that he is to blame for what I now look like. As an overweight, middle-aged Southern man, I couldn't resist the soothing taste of a good cigarette.

Suddenly my mind relaxed and all the hatred I felt for the guy who had ruined my life vanished. Steve looks as damn happy and confident as the last time I saw him. We continue fishing, drinking and talking as if we were really a couple. Stepfather and his son having a good time, son of a bitch…

When I lived with my mom, he and I never got along well, sometimes we went days without talking even if our room was only a couple of meters away. To me, Steve was just a lazy idiot who was lucky to find someone like my mom.

Although my mom tried to get us closer multiple times, she didn't succeed, Steve and I were very different. I used to be a sports fan, I spent time with my friends playing all day or sweating in the gym, but all that changed when I turned 21 years old, Steve suddenly began to take an interest in my life in a somewhat obsessive way. He started watching the videos I posted about my workouts on Instagram and looking at my friends' profiles.

But the most obvious proof that he was the cause of all this was that just a week after we "mysteriously" woke up in the other's body, Steve left the house in the middle of the night with my motorcycle, the selfish bastard. The only thing he left me was his social security number and a small message:

“I'm sorry that we couldn't find out what caused us to exchange our bodies, but I think we should both continue with our lives. Take care of your mother and don't worry... I'll go visit.”

Since that day my life has been shit, I don't know what the fuck he did to me, but since that day I've had to fight every day with that little voice in my head That makes me act like an idiot, Sometimes and all I can think about is How damn hot it is in the house and how good I could use a six-pack of beer. I guess he thought he would do me a favor by doing that to me to blend in more, or maybe I'm just his trash can where he dumped his shitty habits including his taste in women and Susan, my mother.

Every night before I go to sleep I try to be so fucking drunk that I forget what I do at night with my own mother and when I can't get my mother to give me money for the beers I masturbate furiously in the bathroom to relieve my desire for the disgusting sex with mom

If you're still horny and want to read more of my m2m bodyswap stories, subscribe to my Ko-fi I have over 250 stories in my archives

#body swap #male body swap #bodyswap #body switch #male transformation

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theangryhistoriananna · 2 months ago

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I think one of the most interesting and overlooked moments between Lucien and Feyre is when they are escaping to Night through Autumn and they have this exchange:

"They didn't like you?" His jaw tightened. "As the youngest of seven sons, I wasn't particularly needed or wanted. Perhaps it was a good thing. I was able to study for longer than my father allowed my brothers before shoving them out the door to rule over some territory within our lands, and I could train for as long as I liked, since no one believed I'd be dumb enough to kill my way up the long list of heirs. And when I grew bored with studying and fighting.....I learned what I could of the land from its people. Learned about the people, too." He eased to his feet with a groan, his unbound hair glimmering as the midday sun overhead set the blood and wine hues aglow. "I'd say that sounds more High Lord-like than the life of an idle, unwanted son" A long, steely look "Did you think it was mere hatred that prompted my brothers to do their best to break and kill me?" Despite myself, a shudder rippled down my spine. I finished off the apple and uncoiled to my feet, plucking another off a low-hanging branch. "Would you want it-your father's crown?" "No one's ever asked me that," Lucien mused as we moved on, dodging fallen, rotting apples. The air was sticky sweet. "The blood-shed that would be required to wear that crown wouldn't be worth it. Neither would its festering court. I'd gain a crown-only to rule over a crafty, two faced people." "Lord of Foxes" I said, snorting as I remembered that mask he'd once worn. -ACOWAR (page 106)

I feel like this exchange is telling us a lot about who Lucien is. Honestly I think people should pay a lot more attention to the entire escape from Spring chapters than they do, because I think Lucien is being his most honest and open and vulnerable with Feyre than he ever is in ACOTAR and the rest of the series.

But this exchange is particularly interesting.

Lucien was allowed to learn sword fighting for as long as he liked. Feyre mentions that Lucien prefers to use his words over his swords, but this shows that Lucien has studied swordplay extensively and that he only stopped because he grew bored with it (along with studying). We know Lucien is alot more handy with a sword then he often lets on-Feyre also notes she's seen him training with Tamlin in Spring before, with the insinuation that she found him to be able to hold his own with a High Lord that was raised in the war camps. This also is led credence by the fact that Lucien was able to behead Hyburn's niece who was over a thousand years old and had fought in the original war, cutting through her neck in a single strike. He was also able to dodge Hybrun's nephew. And in the infamous frozen lake scene, Lucien is noted to be fighting two brothers at once, and has somehow wrested a sword. Just because Lucien is uninterest in fighting in another war, and just because he seems keen always to avoid using violence to solve problems, that doesn't mean he's not dangerous when he chooses to be.

Lucien's brothers saw him as a threat despite him also saying "no one thought I would be stupid enough to try and kill my way up the long list of heirs". Lucien had won the love of the people, and that scared his brothers enough that they wanted him not just dead but ruined.

Lastly Lucien's retort to Feyre's question about his father's crown has always kind of piqued my interest. He seems almost surprised "No one's ever asked me that" and then he doesn't immediately disavow ruling. He ponders her question, and then replies that no, Autumn court has no appeal to him. But his reply, alongside with the fact that he never refutes her statement that he acted like a High Lord in his youth could have some interesting implications about his own ambitions.

I do think it's obvious Lucien plays down alot of what he is. He doesn't even use magic all that much, outside of healing and winnowing, and as mentioned above he only uses violence as a last resort and even then he may downplay how skilled he is.

SJM has been showing us in little glimpses that there is waaaay more to Lucien, and has also been showing us that everyone keeps overlooking him when they shouldn't. Feyre thinks Cassian could knock Lucien on his ass, and yet we see she was wrong about Cassian when Lucien high lord commands and dominates him as easily as breathing. They send Lucien off on a suicide mission in lands deemed too dangerous for even the strongest High Lord in Prythian history and never stop to truly think about the fact that Lucien made it through those lands and completed his mission. Lucien slips out to the library shortly after arriving in Night Court and later we find out he's pulled one over Rhys and Feyre without them even considering being suspicious of him or his motives.

There is so much to his seemingly "side character" and I can't wait to hear more about the Lord of Foxes.

#Lucien Vanserra #Pro Lucien Vanserra #ACOTAR

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 2 months ago

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I am so glad about your booktube post. Their entitled, condescending and frankly bigoted behavior is something I am frustrated but utterly powerless about.

I am particularly crept out by just how many of them use social justice language to both justify their hatred for everything and everybody out of the norm and make it harder to spot.

The most blatant and most disturbing example I saw for this is someone named crowcaller. If you don't look at the bigger picture and don't know these books it seems like she criticizes sexist, ableist and queerphobic tropes in obscure bad YA books from 2000-2010. Very necessary work, and without context her criticism seem reasonable and rooted in real life problems.

Then she did that with books I had actually read. And oh by did she not just interpret it in the most bad faith possible and completely ignored the Zeitgeist and conventions and history of the genre, she also just. Did not pick up anything but the most obvious plot beats, character motivations and messages, and then got condescending about the book being too shallow and openly cheered on the downfall of this series.

She also constantly presents herself as this fighter for minorities rights, especially disabled peoples rights, but then I caught her talking about a mental health issue she never had and has no experience with as if she 100% knew how this works and how this needs to be portrayed. I know this issue, and what she claims is only something a small part of the community feels. However, it is what aligns with neurotypicals automatic horror about this, so these opinions are the only ones that spread.

After that, everything fell into place. How she writes "I've seen it all" about tumblr, quirkily saying how good she knows this site without being one of *those* tumblr users. How she made her entire career out of mocking books targeted at girls. How she doesn't acknowledge the things that are progressive about these books at all. How she never outright says how teen girls are so silly and stupid and inferior for liking these books, and how [insert ableist slur] people who hyperfixate on uncool things like these are, but it resonates in every video she does.

I am queer and autistic too, and as I was still too naive to spot it, I was so glad that someone like me for once managed to create a platform and be heard. Turns out she could only do that, because unlike me and most other queer autistic people, she is confident to the point of not being able to see just how unqualified she is, and even more, she only says exactly what neurotypicals (and the more assimilated queer autistic people) want to hear.

And I get it, it feels good to think you are superior to those pathetic boy obsessed girls. Which probably makes this such an effective tactic.

I hate how platforms only ever push people like this. And I hate that people like this are able to shape the publics opinion when they have the least skills for that.

I hate how they get away with hiding their loathing behind feminism, or anti-ableism, or queer advocacy while mocking everybody in these groups who doesn't manage to conform.

Now, crowcaller is far from the only Booktuber who uses these tactics. But it struck me particularly much because she as an queer autistic person really should know better than behaving like this. Peak Pick-Me. And also... using your minority identities and progressive beliefs to hide your bigotry behind is just so gross.

And I hate just how little people seem to pick that up.

I'm gonna be real dude I think my nitpicks of various videos and whatever you've got going on specifically with this crowcaller person are like. maybe totally different issues.

I'd also like to point out that re: your first sentence, referring to the entirety of booktube as "entitled, condescending and frankly bigoted" as if every person posting about books on youtube is sone sort of hive mind is exactly the kind of unsubstantiated overgeneralization that I have been dogging on various booktubers for making. I am by no means trying to expose all of booktube as corrupt or innately bad, namely because that's impossible to do for hundreds if not thousands of unaffiliated creatives with wholly different styles and interests.

#tube posting

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suigenerisisadiva · 10 days ago

Text

We Burn, and So Do Our Worlds

Pairing: Mark Grayson x Batsis!Reader + Batfam x Batsis!Reader

Summary: After travel through an inter-dimensional gateway, you meet the Teen Team for the first time - fresh out of combat, bruised, and still three steps ahead of everyone in the room. Your intelligence throws the team off balance, and even the GDA is forced to reconsider their stance on you, a sharp, off-world wildcard. While trust slowly builds and Mark’s quiet admiration grows louder, something else is watching.

Not LexCorp. Not a hero.

But someone way worse.

CW: My love for biceps is prevalent yet again, INSANE CANON DIVERGENCE, swearing, depictions of gore, Cecil Stedman 🤢

A/N: Chat I think i'm gonna need to write a part 4 now omfg - I hope my hatred for Eve isn't so obvious lmao, guys i'm so sorry this took so long, my sister hit the curb and two of the tires of her lexus are literally flat omfg get her off the roads.

This is a part 3 of my Between Worlds, Between Us fic!

Go read Part 1! - Part 2! - Part 3!

Taglist: @silas-222 - @guacimara - @lagataprrr - @sleepygirl-inc - @trasshy-artist - @luv-isolde - @linaisadream - @cantbecreative - @riselazarus-s - @mosseetrees

my pookies - @gothicbatgirl + @dulcet-aurora + @ilona2nerrie

(Reader goes by alias Nightingale) ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆ The flight over to headquarters wasn't as bad as you hoped. Inter-dimensional travel wasn't all that scary, considering it was you this time who jumped across the fabric of time, in the arms of your alien hero situationship, if you could even call it that, I mean, it's not like your seeing anyone else right now.

It was Mark you were more worried about when you both entered that cosmic sphincter, it genuinely looked like the entrance to the Other Mother's world in Coraline, gave you major creeps, definitely did for Mark as well, 'cuz of how tight he was holding you as you traversed through the myriad of locked gateways leading to various dimensions. Hey, not like you were complaining, your eyes, and arms were drawn to his biceps, yet again, like geez get a grip girl.

It's late at night, and you both arrived at the GDA headquarters, you observed it's location and surroundings, analysing it. Interesting, you thought, headquarters so closely mirrors the Hall of Justice, back in your world at least. It became apparent to you that there was no Justice League here, but hey, Chicago and Virginia are a whole lot cleaner than Gotham. You were curious to see what Gotham City, in all her glory, looked like in Mark's universe. Probably shittier than home, you thought, after all, Mark's universe didn't have a Batman. Damn, you forgot to tell your dad, and brothers you were fucking off to another dimension with some half alien boy you've met like twice...whatevs, they won't worry too much.

You both know there's people that recognised your presence. After Mark landed and dropped you off, your comfortable silence was broken by Mark's Team, he motioned for you to remain, so you did.

He walked out of the entrance room and towards Cecil's Monkeys (as so Nolan calls them)

It starts with Eve.

Because of course it fucking does.

“You’ve been distracted,” she says casually, inferring to the person Mark's been seeing, arms crossed as Mark stands beside her. “Late-night vanishing acts. Bruises that weren’t from fights we were in.”

Mark freezes. “Is this a Teen Team intervention?”

Rex snorts. “Only if it turns out you’ve been ghosting us for someone hot.”

You step out from the doors, at that exact moment, mask on, cape low, voice dry-

“He has. Hi.”

“She’s not from here,” Eve says flatly.

Dupli-Kate raises a brow. “Kinda hot, though.”

Rex stares for a second too long. “Yo. Are you like… Mark’s morally ambiguous Bat-thing girlfriend?”

Bat Thing? Seriously? You thought. You glance at Mark. He shrugs sheepishly.

“I didn’t say that. I heavily implied it.”

You roll your eyes.

“No. I’m the vigilante your mom told you not to talk to online.” That earned a snort from Kate.

Mark stepped in. “Guys, this is, Nightingale. She’s from… somewhere else.”

“Off-world?” Eve asked sharply, narrowing her eyes. You already disliked this bitch.

“Worse,” you muttered. “Off-dimension.”

They stared. Hard

You didn’t flinch.

Eve asked the smart questions.

“How long have you been here?” She asked

“Half an hour at most, to be honest, that's a question you should ask Invinciboy over there, he rocks up to my universe every other day.” That shut her up for a sec.

“Are you trying to get back?”

“I know the way back girl."

“Are you a threat?”

“That depends. Are you going to try and dissect me?”

“…no?”

“Then probably not.”

You finally straightened, eyes flicking across the team, calculating and precise. Your gaze caught on the scorched GDA tracker you’d yanked off one of the crates.

“This tech’s not from your world. Well, it is, but it's been sourced from mine, It’s coded in a double-encryption structure your satellites don’t even register yet. That means someone either came through the breach into my world before you did, or they’re siphoning inter-dimensional knowledge, illegally.” You emphasised that last part, the cogs in your head already turning at what kind of person has this technology. Wondering if it was the person watching you guys earlier.

You dropped the chip in Mark’s palm.

“Your problem now.”

Eve blinked. “How the hell do you know all this?”

“I built a backdoor into my dimension’s version of the Justice League’s quantum server farm when I was fourteen. This is amateur hour.”

Kate let out a low whistle.

Rex muttered under his breath, “Okay, now I wanna marry her.”

Mark didn’t even bother hiding his smirk.

“Told you she was different.”

Cecil rewinds the battle footage three times. Not because he doubts what he’s seeing- but because he’s not sure how someone so unknown could already be so dangerous and so useful.

You’re a walking anomaly. Too smart. Too fast. Too confident.

And yet, you didn’t kill. You fought like someone who’d trained in pain but chose control. You led like someone who didn’t need the spotlight. And you trusted Mark.

That last one was most suspicious of all.

The monitor flickers.

The footage from the rooftop, courtesy of a ReAniman, who observed everything, replays again. And again. And again. Slowed to half-speed. Then quarter.

A shot of your hand brushing Mark’s. The moment your smile cracked something in him. The way you moved. Fought. Laughed.

You were perfect.

Through the lens of his ReAnimen, you were just another thing to be observed. But through the distorted eyes of D.A Sinclair, you were so much more than that.

“Subject 11-06: fully integrated,” the voice mutters. “Tactical grace. Neural dexterity. High intellectual acuity. Genetic resilience.”

Behind him. a half-assembled corpse. Limbs twitching. One eye socket still wet. Jaw unhinged a horrifically disturbing distance from the maxilla.

D.A. Sinclair, face pale and glinting with obsession, scribbles notes into a cracked journal.

“She’s not from this world,” he says to no one. (Like anyone gives a shit about what this guy says after what he did to Rick bsfr)

“But she will belong to it. Or at least… her parts will.”

Hope you all enjoyed this! Likes, comments, reblogs and requests are highly appreciated! Requests are open!

Sources! -

Dividers - @omi-resources

Icon Header - @parkons

Property of suigenerisisadiva, do not repost my work pls & ty!

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bewitched-hours · 22 days ago

Note

Silly Idea

Daisy x Guest 1337 x Eldritch/Cryptid!Reader

Ah yes one of my favourite ship dynamics, the established couple and the thing they found in the wood

How tf they managed is beyond me, maybe you were always there in their life but was just on the sidelines. First it started off with "Romantic gifts" addressed to both of them. And by that I mean a whole magnolia tree which clearly looks like it was torn out with bare hands just perched innocently on their front lawn. Next it was when people who were rather discriminatory to Guest somehow disappeared or left them alone. Double weird. Welp they don't find out till Daisy walks in on you keeping watch over Charlotte( imagine a big fluffy cat and Charlotte is just sleeping on it, my turn when dawg). And to your sadness you scared them both( wow I can't believe a sleep paralysis demon can be scary) But after a few seconds of bracing to be well killed or eaten, nothing happens. Instead you very, very gently lower Charlotte down and give her back( not without a lil pat tho) before leaving. Okay they either are very sleep deprived or that just happened. But after a while of this very confusing relationship with this thing. Guest 1337 finally decides to try and strike a conversation with you( fully expecting nothing) but gains whiplash when you reply back nearly perfectly( if not for the obvious growl and accent of your voice). And well after a bit they just accepted the fact you're sticking around. And well it ends with Guest,Daisy,Charlotte and you having a nice cuddle( turns out all that fluff also works as an amazing bed, and your purrs double down as white noise)

YES YES YES- MEOW- (Ignore me being a dumbass and basically opening myself to being called a degenerate-)

Reader gets They/Them~

It was no secret that you were a cryptid.

You just looked like a mix of a sleep paralysis demon and a cat if most were honest after seeing you.

Black but fully fluffy fur, a tail long and flexible enough to coil around your victims like a giant snake and two red eyes flashing from your face. It'd be a mystery if you had a mouth if it weren't for the sightings of you munching away on some of your victims.

And yet... You did it more for the attention of your chosen mates!

Something about them had simply captured your heart. Maybe it was their gentleness, the feeling of family, who knows...

But you tried to win them over without scaring them. You weren't just some creature, you had the same amount of intelligence they had. Maybe even more.

But the fact you knew better didn't stop you from doing worse.

You weren't choosing victims just because they were mean to your mates, you knew they could handle themselves in the face of 'bullies', as Charlotte once called them. Sweet child, you wanted to protect her like your mates did and yet that option was currently out of reach...

But no, you chose your victims based on how far they were willing to take their hatred for your beloveds.

The ones that were more likely to pop up later again and again, all to discriminate against the ones you loved... Those were your victims.

You figured out eventually that flowers were sometimes considered romantic but with your form... Yeah, picking flowers would be impossible and there wasn't even a guarantee they'd be in top condition all the way through.

Instead, you managed to grab a magnolia tree to leave on their lawn to enjoy. Maybe they liked gardening!

They were so confused when they found the tree. It was clearly ripped out of the ground, it was clearly done by brute force, but it's far too big for anyone to pull off... It managed to unsettle them...

But when you were first spotted by Charlotte?

Oh, she loved you immediately. You figured she would be afraid considering you were much larger than both of her parents and had menacing claws and teeth but all she saw was a giant cat and she was won over.

With that, you'd make regular visits on some nights to watch over her and talk with her in a rough but understandable voice as you'd tell her about life in the woods. You didn't tell her of the creatures that roam or the things you had done for survival but... She deserved to be spared such details...

You had accidentally taken a massive step closer to the family you always wanted but it still seemed so far away... You might be able to live with such slow process but with your lifespan, who knows how long you could continue to wait for progress?

Turns out, you didn't have to worry that long! Though it might've not been such a good thing...

You had been listening to Charlotte babble about the most random topics and entertaining her as she played with your face and stretched it a bit. You felt guilty about even thinking to stop her with how happy she seemed but you failed to pick up on the approaching footsteps before the door opened and you and Charlotte both looked at Daisy in the doorway.

Daisy was absolutely terrified and you were in utter shock as you felt your heart drop.

You couldn't even find your voice again as chaos broke out. Charlotte trying to advocate for you as she sat on your neck fluff and watching as even Guest came rushing in to tell Charlotte to get away from you.

It hurt but... You could understand why they were acting this way.

They didn't even know what to do as they didn't want to approach you so you did the only thing you could think of.

You reached up to gently grab Charlotte and lower her down as carefully as you could before nuzzling her cheek with a slight purr as if to thank her before you quickly but silently disappeared out the window and left the three of them with mixed emotions.

For a while, you stepped back on showing your affections, even outright ignoring Charlotte when she tried to ask you to join her again to play but you weren't subtle in showing that you were sorry about having to ignore her.

This was stupid. You were stupid. It was all so stupid...

You should've never indulged the kid in the first place before getting through her parents but you did anyways and your gifts now ranged between apologetic messages and more romantic gestures.

Charlotte seemed so heartbroken and it was probably why Guest decided to wait for you tonight.

You were just placing down another tree you found that looked pretty so you thought it would be a good apology gift. But you were left little time to explain when the door suddenly opened in front of you and the man stepped out with a seemingly nervous face.

You looked like a deer in headlights as your mind screamed at you to just talk until...

"You've... Been taking care of Charlotte a lot..." He muttered, carefully moving closer to you in an attempt to not alarm you which made your ears flutter with anticipation.

"Of course, she's adorable!" Your growled voice and strange accent almost made him jump in shock but technically he did remember his daughter talking about your voice before...

"Such a sweetheart, you two are great parents." You quickly toned it down a bit and sat up to be at eye level with him as you smiled softly.

Guest rubbed at his temple for a moment while chuckling. "Well, I'll be damned... You're much more intelligent than we gave you credit for..."

Somehow, you weren't even offended at this. "That's because most cryptids keep to the woods." You chuckled along, before feeling your face flush at his next question.

"Then how is it that you kept coming here every night?" Well, be glad your face was covered in fur or he would've seen you grow 50 shades of red. It was now or never...

"I have been meaning to... Court you both as mates..." You muttered with a bashful look as you watched the gears turn in his head. By the time he figured it out he was looking a little embarrassed himself.

"I'll uhm- I'll just get Daisy real quick..." He muttered as he went back inside and you took deep breaths to prepare yourself. It was now or never, now or never, now or-

In the morning, you were all cuddled up by the couch and watching the news in comfortable silence.

You did it... You've found your perfect family and you were allowed an escape from the woods...

Life felt perfect...

Anything you'd like to request/ask? Check out my pinned post first and I'll be happy to write up whatever you want!

#forsaken roblox #forsaken #roblox forsaken #forsaken x reader #forsaken x y/n #guest 1337 forsaken #guest 1337 x reader #guest 1337 x daisy #daisy x reader #forsaken daisy?

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themusingsofacurlyhairednerd · 7 months ago

Text

Ludos Imperiales III

Summary: Saving your mates may cost more than you bargain for, but how far are you willing to go to save them?

Content Warnings: Branding; Mentions of Slavery/Abuse; Vomiting

Pt 1 / Pt 2

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

Fables had largely been forbidden in the Empire, starting in the early reign of my Great Grandfather Hybern II. Fables and fairytales had no use in the practicality of his Empire. Stories and fables gave people ideas, it made them hope and dream of better worlds than this one. The Empire could not thrive on the backs of dreamers. And so books burned in the streets, and the oral traditions of many people died in the following years. Schools taught with books written by Imperial Scholars, all edited and fact checked by the Emperor himself. The world became what he saw fit to shape it as.

To him, the fairytale idea of mates was a weakness. He declared all mated pairs cursed by the Mother. A bond was a manifestation of a weak will. If you could not thrive on your own without needing another to carry you, then you were not fit to be in the Empire. He removed all mated pairs from service, both within the palace walls and in military service. Mated pairs were not allowed to own land within the Empire, Temples were not legally allowed to recognize or perform a marriage ceremony. They were shunned as lepers and regarded as subpar beings. The bond made them loyal to each other first and foremost, and that was an allegiance torn in his mind. He made sure everyone else saw it that way too.

Father would not have such an obvious weakness. In his earlier years, he’d scoured the Empire, searching every village he ravaged and town he conquered for signs of that supposed weakness. He’d felt a pull, to a small ocean village in Elfhaven, and that pull had led him to a healer’s cottage, tucked into the ocean cliffs. He’d stood on the threshold of her doorway, cursing the Mother, cursing whatever weak will he had managed to leave unchecked, and then, he’d tossed her into the sea. His father had thrown a city wide celebration in his honor. Finally, a son who could master himself and his weaknesses. He used to tell me that story at bedtime, when my Mother tucked me in. Love was for children. Mates were for lesser beings. Mother had never argued with him about it either, this was simply a fact in their marriage. Theirs was of convenience, a mutually beneficial contract, and I often wondered if that story was also a means to remind her that she too could be disposed of if a weakness revealed itself.

But, I had been a lonely, and curious child and would often sit with the Nymphs that lived in the bubbling brooks and streams around the River House, and would ask them all the questions I was afraid to ask my Father. They whispered their own tales of mates between the bubbling rocks and rolling waves and I’d latched onto their ideas of a bond so strong it could bridge a soul together. Perhaps it was my loneliness, my need for affection I couldn’t easily find at home, but I clung to that little piece of what everyone else swore was fiction like my life depended on it. It became my lifeline. I’d pray to the Goddess every night for something like that; for someone who could love me beyond reason.

A dream that slips through my fingers as I step into that cell.

Cassian, chained against the wall with a gorsian collar around his throat, spits at my feet as I enter. I’ve seen hatred enough in my lifetime to understand the fire that blazes in those hazel eyes.

All the air in my lungs leaves in a rush, as if he’d thrown a fist directly into my stomach. He hates me. Hates me for what I’ve done to him; hates me for what I allowed to happen in that arena. Hel, judging by the way he sizes me up next to Father, he hates me purely because I look like him in the eyes.

My chest aches like it just might crack open and spill my heart out onto the floor.

For the slight, one of the guards slams the butt of his spear directly into Cassian’s gut, knocking him to the floor.

Despite the obvious malice, I have to physically lock my knees to keep myself from moving towards him; have to bite the inside of my cheek to not tell them to leave him alone. Maybe it’s not his fault he hates me. Maybe I deserve it.

“Charming as ever, Cassian,” Father says.

Cassian glares through the locks of sweat slicked hair falling over his forehead, “Fuck you!”

The butt of the spear slams into his temple and it takes every ounce of training not to let the dark, obsidian power trying to unfurl from my clenched fists turn the guard to ash. It would be so easy, a mere flick of the wrist and the only evidence that he’d ever lived a bit of dust left to mingle in the dirt coating the floor. I want to. Damn me, I want to splatter all of them across the dingy walls; hear the last, sharp intake of breath gurgle out of their chests for putting their hands on my mate. There’s a possessive, ugly thing that rises in my chest, threatening to choke the life out of me if I don’t move, act, on this base instinct. The bond rattles against my rib cage, a beast in its own right. It demands action, swift and immediate. It demands blood.

“You sure you can handle this beast, daughter?” Father sneers.

Cassian regards me with the disdain of someone who stepped in shit while wearing new boots.

“I’m sure,” I say with more confidence than I feel, but I’m too much of a coward to look him in the eyes when I say it. My gaze flicks to the others instead, hoping against reason that I will not see the same hatred on their features.

Azriel remains tucked in the corner, where he can use his body to shelter his broken wings. There isn’t the same malice in his own hazel eyes, but there is a cold indifference that cracks me open just the same. His earlier appraisal must have told him enough, because there is no lingering curiosity, only apathy. I am not asking him to throw himself into my arms; hell, I don’t even need him to smile, I just need something, any hint that my name alone hasn’t ruined this before it even starts! But there is nothing.

I try to keep my shoulders back, try to stop my body from curling in on itself. I want to curl up on the floor and wait until the old stones absorb me.

“I am curious,” Rhysand says, the s slurred like he bit his tongue when he hit the wall. “Why keep us alive?”

“Why let you be a martyr?” Father counters.

Rhysand studies me, violet eyes--glassy from what’s certainly a head injury, especially with the blood still flowing freely from an inch wide gash across his temple--rove over me slowly, starting at my hairline and working down. His head tilts quizzically when his gaze reaches my cheek. He shouldn’t be able to see anything in this light, but I find myself shifting my stance just enough to block the view all the same.

He frowns as his study goes lower, to the singe across my skirts, and the dirt stains from my stumble down the stairs.

“I’d rather be dead than dragged around like a dog!” Cassian spits.

Rhysand won’t stop looking me over, like he’s calculating something. Not exactly the acknowledgment I want, but I will take the intrigue of his study over apathy and hatred as if it is. Curiosity is better than nothing.

“You will honor your word, and send aid to my people?” He asks.

“If anyone is stupid enough to bet on you,” Father counters. “And if it makes it past the highwaymen and looters that have been waylaying my caravans. Your people might have more food if they weren’t attacking supply lines.”

My stomach twists. So Rhysand hadn’t been lying then, things have truly become that bad? Or have they always been that bad, and the sheltered nature of my upbringing had kept me from truly seeing it?

“Do you have supply lines that run through Illyria?” Rhys counters, not rising to the bait. “I can’t recall.”

“You will be branded,” Father says, jaw ticking as he doesn’t get the results he wants. “You will remain in chains and fight when called to fight. Any attempts at escape, and I will drag your people into the arena in droves. They can’t all be as adept at fighting wargs and Giants as you.”

Azriel’s gaze darkens at the threat.

Cassian’s lips pull back in a sneer, teeth flashing.

But Rhysand nods, gaze still on me, like he’s deciding something. I can’t, for the life of me, figure out what.

“Keep your end of the bargain, Highness, and we will keep ours.” He says.

“Rhys!” Cassian seethes.

“Quiet,” Rhysand returns. Briefly, his gaze leaves me to go to Azriel, and the other male nods, just barely.

“How noble,” Father sneers.

“We will do what we must to save our people.”

Father waves the guard at the door in. Another follows, holding a glowing hot branding iron in his gloved hands.

“On your knees!” The doorman barks.

The contents of my stomach rise in my throat. I can’t let this happen! I can’t let them do this to them!

Rhysand kneels first, well technically, Cassian’s still down from the blow to the stomach; Azriel follows, grimacing against the pressure it puts on his wings.

I cannot beg for them. I will give myself away. I will doom all of us.

I can’t let this happen either. I can’t stand here uselessly!

“You’ll do it,” Father says to me and my panicked train of thought slams to a screeching halt. What?!

The guard holding the iron snorts out a chuckle. “Doubt she can hold the damn thing.”

Father turns to fully look at me and I do my best to keep my chin up. I have to keep the mask up; I cannot let him see.

“You wanted this. You’ll do it.” He doesn’t think I have it in me; that much is obvious. He thinks me weak and spineless and meek, unable to do what is necessary. I have always known it, but I have never felt it so clearly as I do now.

And maybe he is right. How can I do this, even for the sake of protecting them? How can I raise a hand to my mates?

I swallow the lump in my throat. If I reach out to take that iron, my hands will shake and give me away. If I stand here and refuse, I give myself away. There is no winning; how did I think I could play a game like this? He wins; he always wins.

Not today, a voice whispers in the back of my mind. My body moves without my consent, as if I’m a puppet on a set of strings, being moved by an invisible hand. When I reach out for the iron, my hand doesn’t shake, even though it feels like every part of my body is trembling. The iron is heavy and warm in my hands, I have to use both to lift it, and though I should struggle to keep a grip on it, the invisible grip on me holds it steady.

Two guards move to grip Rhysand by the shoulders, pinning him in place, even though he offers his right arm willingly. His right arm that’s shredded from elbow to wrist from the wargs, blood still trickling onto the floor. The wound is deepest on the outside of his forearm, with enough space above the inside of his wrist to mark. This is cruel enough as is, but to add further to the injury…

One of the guards grabs the torch to reheat the rapidly cooling metal and my stomach is once again back in my throat. I can’t do this to him!

Don’t let him win, the voice whispers again.

My body is still not my own, still moving despite my best efforts to not. It feels like I’m watching myself from outside my body as the iron is pressed to his skin. I can’t even gag against the horrible smell of burning flesh, like someone locked the ability to react behind a wall of adamant.

Rhysand, to his credit, doesn’t even wince, just draws a sharp breath in through his nose. He holds eye contact with my Father the whole time in another silent challenge and I cannot decide if he is the bravest or stupidest male I’ve ever met.

The guards reheat the iron as my body moves away from him, and I’m sure they make some sort of snide comment, but it sounds like I’m hearing it from underwater as I take in what I’ve done to him. The blistering skin forms a perfect circle, with the Imperial emblem stamped in the center. It will be a crude scar and hard to hide. My heart clenches painfully in my chest. What have I done?

The guards move to hold Azriel next, and if I was unsettled before, I’m downright ready to throw myself on a blade now. The apathy has left his eyes, replaced now with barely concealed panic. He pinches his lips together, trying not to make a sound as I approach, but his chest rises and falls rapidly, scarred hands clenching and unclenching in front of him. Shit those are burns on his hands and I’ve got something on fire held out to him.

“What’s the matter?” One of the guards leans down to hiss in his ear. “Scared of a little fire?”

“You motherfucker!” Cassian shouts, trying to stand to get to Azriel. He’s quickly knocked back to the floor with the butt of a spear again.

“Do it!” Azriel hisses at me.

My body is still not my own as it moves to comply. The whole cell reeks of burnt flesh and it is by the sheer force of whatever will moves my limbs that I haven’t heaved up the contents of my stomach on the floor. What kind of mate am I?

Gods I am as bad as my Father! Cassian knows it too; when it’s finally his turn, the look he gives me is one I’ve seen thrown at the Emperor a thousand times. There is nothing but venom and hatred there and the bond in my chest feels raw and thin, like it has been scraped and worn down to a single, solitary thread. And yet my legs still move and my hands still hold the iron steady.

He won’t ever forgive me for this. Even if I can get them out of the Empire, even if I can save them from dying in the arena, it will never be enough. I’ve ruined my chance before it even had a chance to start.

Cassian growls when the brand touches his skin, but he doesn’t scream. None of them did. This displeases my Father, who frowns, even when it’s done. At least he is not proud of me; that would be the final nail in the coffin.

The invisible hand still won’t let go of me, I feel it holding me upright, like it knows, given the chance I’ll crumple to the floor and never get up again. How could I have done this?

Father turns to the guard closest to the door, “Go ahead of her to the River House, make sure the place is secure. Post extra guards.”

The elven male bows with an exaggerated flourish and disappears. I suppose I should feel relieved that we are almost out of this godsdamned arena, but dread settles in my stomach. It is not like my Father to make this quick, not for a convicted rebel, and not for anything I’ve shown an interest in. Taking them home now feels too good to be true and I am not inclined to believe luck or mercy have ever been on my side.

“The arena will have to be fixed before we can proceed with the Games,” Father muses. “I expect you to bring your new toys with you to entertain our guests at Amarantha’s celebration tomorrow.”

They’re throwing her a whole parade for her exports over Illyria, of course she’d want them there to see it. I doubt they’ll be the only Illyrians in attendance.

Cassian growls at that. I’m inclined to share the sentiment.

“As you wish,” I say instead. Hopefully, if I can manage to not let the guilt clawing its way up my insides to consume me, I can remain upright long enough to find us all passage out of here by the morning. This will all be a terrible dream. Even if we have to part--the bond roars in my ears at the thought--at least I will have saved them. It might be the only thing I have to give them.

Father leaves first. I don’t let myself look at my mates as I follow. The guards untether them from the wall and push them out after me, keeping a guard in between us, just in case they attempt to attack while my back is turned. I wouldn’t blame them if they tried; I’d attack me too.

I can’t get the smell of their burnt flesh out of my nose. Every time I blink I can see their blistered skin behind my eyelids. I branded my mates.

The way out of the tunnels beneath the arena is a blur, it doesn’t even register that we’re out until the sudden flash of harsh summer light sears my eyes.

There are horses waiting, and a wagon. At least he’s not forcing them to walk behind my horse, as some of the lords and councilmen make their sponsored champions do.

I don’t remember swinging into the saddle. I don’t remember urging the horse forward, or when my caravan of guards split off from my Father’s. We rode together until we didn’t. Starlight, my childhood horse, does all the directing, taking me home on instinct. The house I grew up in, the house I sequestered myself in with the curtains drawn for months and months looks foreign. The staff coming out to greet us swim in and out of my vision. I must answer their questions, because they move things around for our new guests, instructing the guards to take the wagon around to the back of the house, where there’s a guest wing turned into a cell for them. All this sounds like it happens under water.

I hear the wagon roll that direction, and even though I feel eyes on my back, I don’t allow myself to turn. I cannot bear what I will see.

Someone helps me to my rooms, holding me by the elbow, telling me I look pale and sick. I feel like I’ve stepped outside my skin. The tether in my chest feels raw. What have I done?

The sizzle of the iron on skin echoes in my ears. I can’t stop seeing the smoke. Can’t stop thinking about the panic in Azriel’s eyes. I hurt my mates.

I hurt my mates.

Whatever invisible force had been holding me together in the cell gradually releases me. Inch by inch I become aware of my body again. And I make it to the toilet just in time to hurl the contents of my stomach up. It’s the wine first. Then breakfast. And the acidic burn of bile out my throat and nose.

After Mother’s execution I hadn’t been able to stop crying for days. I’d laid in my bed with the covers over me, hiding in the dark where no one could hear the ugly sounds of my wrenching sobs. I’d thought I’d never weep that hard again. I was wrong. This is far worse.

When I no longer have the strength to hold myself up over the edge of the toilet, I curl into a ball on the floor, the tile cool and smooth against my flushed cheeks. The tears won’t stop flowing and the thing in my chest coils and tightens until it feels like a rock. What have I done?

Eventually the tears run out. The thin slit of a window in the wall bathes the room in varying shades of orange, then pink, then purple as time passes by, uncaring to my turmoil. I still can’t bring myself to get up, even as the heat of the day turns to a cool, evening chill. No amount of cold could move me now, a little suffering is what I deserve.

Someone knocks on the bedroom door. I don’t remember closing it behind me.

I shut my eyes against the noise. All this crying has given me a headache, the echo of the door against the tile makes my head throb. Good. I deserve that too.

Another knock, more insistent this time.

Why should I answer it? I should just lay here until the earth swallows me.

Another knock, followed by a muffled, “Highness?” Anise, my maid. Anise had come with my Mother, a gift from her father as she travelled here for the wedding. Mother had freed her from her servitude and Anise had asked to stay as part of the staff. She loved my Mother like she was her own; I have always thought of her like an Aunt.

“Don’t make me kick the door in!” A grumpy Aunt, granted, but her temper is always warranted.

Shakily, I manage to maneuver myself onto my knees. She really will kick the door in and her joints are old and worn, she’ll likely break an ankle, or a hip, trying. It’s for her health that I manage to get up and get to the door, not because I feel well enough to get up.

She pushes her way in as soon as I turn the handle. “You look awful!”

I feel awful. “Thanks.”

“What the hell is all of this?” She demands, waving a hand towards the hallway. She’s half Dryad, her skin like tree bark, her graying hair made of vines and leaves. Though she is old and weathered, her emerald eyes are still bright and shining. “And why are you so distraught over it?”

She paces as she speaks, not letting me get a word in as she wrings her gnarled hands together. “What’s with all the guards? And those… winged males? They are strange and gruff and I don’t like the looks of them. Which reminds me, why the Hels are they asking for you?”

My heart skips a beat in my chest. “What do you mean, Anise?”

She stops her pacing to come take one of my hands, a gesture for a Dryad that is closer to a hug. Her other hand pushes some hair off my cheek to see the yellow tint of a blooming bruise. “Did they hurt you?”

I’m going to be sick again. “No, Anise, they didn’t.”

“You promise?”

“Trust me, if anyone did any damage, it was me.” And I’ll never forgive myself for it.

She nods. “Ok, then, I will tell you.” Dryads, like Ents, are known for their long winded conversations. They never know when to get to the point. I am used to her extra long pauses and rambling tangents.

I am not, however, prepared for her to say, “Well they were brought food and a medic, as the guards ordered, but they refused it.”

Why the hell would they do that?! Was this some kind of hunger strike? By the Mother did they think I was trying to poison them?

“They said they wouldn’t touch it until they’d spoken to you.”

I think the heat has gotten to me. Did she just say they asked to speak to me?

“It’s very strange,” she continues. “Males in that bad of shape usually fight for a chance to see a medic, but they said they wouldn’t let anyone touch them until they’d talked to you alone.”

Alone? They wanted to talk to me alone?

“Are you sure that’s what they said, Anise?”

“They were very adamant about needing to see you. Rude if you ask me. Who demands to see the head of a household like that? They’re trouble, I’m telling you now.”

“They didn’t say why?” I ask.

“No. They wouldn’t say it around the guards either. I don’t like this, Highness. It’s a bad omen if you ask me. The winds have been whispering all day. Bad, very bad things will come of this, mark my words.”

Bad things had already come, couldn’t she see that? They were not the issue; I was the issue. This whole damn Empire was the issue. We ruin everything we touch. They knew that better than anyone, so why ask for me? What did they want? It certainly can't be the bond.

I absently rub my knuckle against my breast bone. The bond feels like a bruise. No, they can’t be asking about the bond. If they know it’s there, they’re not tugging on it. There is no curiosity, only pain. I’ve ruined the chance for anything more, of that I am certain.

This has to be something else, but how can I face them? There is only so much I can bear.

“You’ll make them wait, won’t you?” Anise continues. “You certainly should. It’s improper for a host to be asked for this late into the evening.”

They need medical attention. Their wounds have to heal. And they need to eat. They have to be starving, I doubt they were given a last meal before being thrown into the arena. Raw and damaged as it is, the bond still prompts me to move, even if I’d rather hide from it for the rest of my life.

“No,” I might as well rip the bandaid off. Maybe they need to tell me to my face that they hate me and never want to see me again. It can be arranged for us not to interact, even with me sponsoring them.

If that is their wish, I will honor it. Whatever it is they need, I’ll find a way to make it happen. I owe them that. “I’ll go see them.”

------

Taglist: @sirenpearldust, @saltedcoffeescotch, @littlemissfix-itfic, @waka-babe, @raisam

@anainkandpaper, @rafeecameronsbitch, @whothehelliskayleigh, @lifetobeareader, @blimpintime

@hjgdhghoe, @krowiathemythologynerd

#rhysand x reader #rhys x reader #azriel x reader #Cassian x reader #poly!bat boys x reader #bat boys x reader #gladiator!bat boys #gladiator!bat boys x reader #acotar #acotar au #acotar fic #my writing #my fanfics #bat boys x reader angst

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burntoutdaydreamer · 2 years ago

Text

Questions I Ask My Beta Readers

"Did you like it?" just doesn't cut it when you're trying to get useful feedback, so here's some questions that get your reader really thinking about your work:

What are your general impressions after reading? How did you feel when the book ended?

(For fantasy/sci-fi) What did you find most confusing about the world? What did you find the most interesting? What do you want to know more about?

Were there any scenes that broke your suspension of disbelief? Which ones? Why?

Which chapters were the hardest to get through? Did you find yourself skimming the text at any point in the story?

Which character was your favorite? Which was your least favorite? Why? (Note that this question is best when asking multiple readers. If one person really dislikes a character, it could be personal preference. If multiple people can't stand a character for the same reason.... well, that's a problem you need to fix. Unless, of course, you want your readers to hate that character. Just make sure that their hatred enhances the reading experience instead of ruining it).

Did you get any characters confused or mixed up? If so, did this make the story hard to follow?

What was the most suspenseful moment in the book? What was your favorite moment of the story? What was your least favorite moment in the story? Why?

Which setting in the book was clearest to you as you were reading it? Which setting was the most difficult to envision?

Did you feel there was a lot of info dumping at any point? If so, where?

How do you feel about the plot? Were there any parts that confused you or seemed nonsensical/ illogical?

Did you feel any part of the story was predictable? Do you have any predictions for the next book(s)? If so, what are they? (Again, another question that's best when asking multiple readers. Be aware of your audience here. Some people, especially those who read a lot, are really good at predicting where stories are going to go. If those people are able to guess what happens next, that might actually be a good thing, because it could indicate that your story is progressing logically. Too much predictability is a problem, but a little isn't bad. This question is just to make sure the plot twists/progression aren't painfully obvious to most readers).

What plot holes did you find in the story so far?

Were you invested in the story? If so, at what point did you become invested? Did you lose this interest at any point? (The second point here is really good for determining whether you have a slow beginning. Sometimes readers might really like your story overall, but would not have gotten past the first few chapters if they were reading it for fun instead of as a favor for you. This happened to me last time I asked someone to read my work, and it made it clear how much of the beginning I needed to rewrite entirely).

Any other questions or comments?

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reiderwriter · 1 year ago

Note

Hello there baby, are your parents bakers? Cause you're a cutie pie lol sorry couldn't resist the urge to flirt with my favorite writer💕How have you been? How was your day? I wish you a wonderful day and a lovely night💕

It's my first time here sending an ask but lately I've been thinking about shy!Spencer x flirty!reader, I just think is such a cute couple.

So if you're taking requests, I was thinking about early seasons Spencer completely falling for the reader and the way she's so flirty but sweet and kind, the way he'd be blushing hard at anything she says and how he'd like the way she's always touching him cause he felt cherised and desired.

It could be fluff or smut or both cause I can picture them going slow with the relationship but Spencer being eager to please her and show how much he loves everything about her.

You said about choosing a emoji, so can I be the 🐇anon?

A/N: Thanks for the request! Shy Spencer is the best because he's so dumb and silly and doesn't realize when people are attracted to him. I've said it before, but he's basically every nerdy main character in 00s romcoms that are "unattractive" because they wear glasses. I hope you enjoy the fic~♡

Warnings: mentions of case details, slight spoilers for upto s5

With a degree in law and a deep-rooted hatred of businessmen, you'd certainly found your calling in one of the FBI White Collar divisions. Putting away the sleazy bastards was easily one of the biggest perks of the job, but every coin had a second side, and yours was you actually had to interact with the cretins before you could take them down.

You'd dealt with bribes, dinner invites, and sexual propositions more than a time or two, and had to remind yourself that kicking anyone of them clean in the balls was most likely a firing offense, if not legally off the table.

The man in the case you were currently working - possibly Bill Hodges, possibly Daniel Brady, possibly so many more men - had been a typical white collar freak until he'd moved on to murder. And when you'd been so close to nailing his ass for fraud, too.

You'd had no choice but to call in whatever unit it was that actually got to put bullets in the bastards, sure that you were going to be strong-armed out of months of work for the glory of taking down a spree killer.

Instead, you got Spencer Reid, delivered freshly to your desk like a lamb to slaughter.

“Sorry, you're the agent from the BAU?” You asked, raking your eyes across his body, smiling at his obvious discomfort with the attention.

“Yes, Doctor Reid. I'm here for more information on the Hodges files.”

You dusted your skirt off as you stood, moving around the desk to grab the file. You held it out to him but pulled it back when he reached for it.

“I'm sorry, you're really in the BAU?” An embarrassed look fell across his face, and you instantly felt shitty.

“Do you want to see my credentials?”

“No, I'm sorry, it's just - I wasn't expecting someone so…pretty?”

The embarrassed look deepened to a flush, and you brightened at the sight. You weren't lying. He really was pretty, and you hoped your comment hadn't come off as patronizing.

“You're adorable. Here's the file, I’ll be at your team briefing in half an hour. Spencer, right?”

He nodded, finally waking up and taking the files as you pushed it against his chest, using the movement to step slightly closer.

“I'll see you later then,” you trailed your look down, getting a good look at all of him before meeting his eyes again. “Save me a seat?”

“I should… I'll, uh, go now. Thanks for the-” he stammered, pointing to the file, backing out of your space slowly, like an animal trying not to show its back to a predator.

Unlike the long line of scumbags filling the halls and case files of your floor, Spencer was without bravado or ego. His lack of both meant that you were interested. You were very interested.

Half an hour later, you practically sprinted to the 6th floor, bouncing up the stairs to the office where you'd take your meeting like a giddy school girl.

“Hello, sorry, I'm not late, am I?” You asked, quietly opening the door and letting yourself in.

“Agent Y/N, no, perfect timing, Penelope was just about to brief us on your case,” Hotch said, rising and giving your hand a firm shake. He looked around to find a seat to usher you into, but you quickly dropped yourself into the seat right beside Spencer Reid, grin deepening as he flushed and offered you an awkward yet endearing smile.

Unconsciously, you shifted closer, shooting him your own smile before the meeting officially began, and you were forced to keep a straight, serious face.

The entire case progressed in much the same way, with you doing everything you could to fluster Spencer Reid and him doing everything in his power to convince himself you were being friendly.

“Spencer, do you have a phone number?” You asked after slipping out of the meeting, trailing him back to his desk.

“Yeah, we have to keep connected for cases, so I have a phone.”

“Great. Your number - what is it?”

He rattled off the digital as you scribbled them down on a notepad.

“And Hotch's number is-”

“Oh, I won't need that. Thanks, Spencer.” You said waving as you left to slink back to your desk. You could hear him calling out behind you, confused.

“Y/N… Y/N, we split up on cases often, if there's an incident and you need to contact us it's better to have all of the team members numbers,” he panted, jogging to catch up with your focused pace.

“If I need to contact you, I'll take myself to Agent Garcia’s office and use her direct line,” you said, finally stopping yourself at the elevator and pressing the button.

He caught up, and stopped abruptly next to you.

“Oh… oh, yeah that's… that's efficient.”

You stepped onto the elevator when it arrived, leaving Spencer hesitating whether or not to climb in himself, desperately wondering why you'd ask for his number then.

“Goodbye, Doctor Reid,” you said, pressing the door close button and blowing him a kiss just before the doors blocked you from sight.

To tell the truth, you'd had a lot of fun flirting with Spencer on the phone from Penelope’s office during the case. The woman was an inspiration, even if her flirting had a completely different purpose and meaning than your own. Her friendship with Derek Morgan was admirable, but you didn't want to be friends with Spencer Reid.

“Hello, handsome, what can I do for you today?” You asked, picking up the phone and basking in the stammers that answered you down the line.

“D-Do you need me to get Morgan for you?” He said, his voice treading lightly.

“Unless Derek Morgan has, overnight, managed to turn into a 6’1 Doctor with a penchant for cardigans and leather satchels and an IQ of 187, then I am absolutely not looking for him. I have case details.”

He brushed past your comment, but he kept the slight stammer through the conversation, right until you signed off.

“Until next time, sexy.”

“Um, yeah… thanks…beautiful?” he signed off, and you guffawed in laughter even as Penelope stared wide-eyed in your direction, not believing her ears.

“Please forgive our little test tube genius. We forgot to add flirting skills to his childhood curriculum, and now, alas, the poor thing doesn't know a damn thing.”

He'd called back a few hours later, and you'd purred more compliments down the line, but this time with the team surrounding him as they closed in on your unsub.

“Hello, this is beautiful speaking. How may I help you?” You giggled down the line, picking up the call after only a single ring.

“Y/N,” he breathed, catching his breath awkwardly as he struggled to remember why it was you were needed.

“So… um, like… Hotch has a question about the files you sent earlier. He needs Penelope to… do something as well.”

You could almost see the awkward nod through the phone.

“Great. Pass me over to Hotch, then, hot stuff.”

You heard the tell-tale sound of Derek Morgan’s cackle in the background, and you couldn't help but let another giggle slip out. You were a gonner, and, hopefully, so was he.

The case wrapped quickly after that, spree killing being a quick game of cat and mouse out of necessity. You weren't happy with three bodies, but it sure as hell was preferable to more.

You greeted the BAU team at the jet hanger as they returned, reclaiming your fraud files for paperwork and using that simple chore as a reason to get close to Spencer again.

“Good work out there, Doctor Reid.”

“What, he's not hot stuff anymore now he's in front of you?” Emily Prentiss laughed, throwing her go bag onto her shoulder and trailing behind where you'd started strolling alongside Spencer.

“Oh, he's still hot stuff. He's just hot stuff with three PhDs that just stopped a spree killer,” you said, sighing dreamily. “How do you do it?”

“We were all there too, you know,” the other woman chuckled as you made it inside the building and to the elevator.

“Yeah, well,” you said, taking a second to reach out and straighten out Spencer's skewed tie, smoothing his jacket and generally just touching him in whatever way you could, respectfully.

You didn't even bother to finish your sentence, just leaning closer to his ears and whispering directly into them.

“You're very cute when you're flustered, Doctor Reid.”

You stepped away for a second while the rest of his team teased him, stepping to the back of the elevator to ascend to your floor while the others departed on theirs.

They filed out one by one and you sent them off with a smile and a wave, signing in defeat as you realized there was no longer a reason for you to interact with the good doctor ever again.

If you weren't so stupidly aware of him, you'd almost have missed the fact that Spencer didn't leave the elevator when his teammates did. He instead turned to you and, with the brightest red you'd seen on his face to date, stammered out half a sentence.

“I.. Y/N, I was just… curious, if you, by any chance…”

Your eyes widened in joy as you anticipated his question, silently begging him just to spit it out.

“I was wondering, i-if you had… a boyfriend?” By the end of his sentence, even he seemed unsure of whether that was a question he should really be asking.

You'd been throwing heart eyes at him for says, and he was asking if you were in a committed relationship.

“No,” you said slightly breathily, as if your body were trying to expel all the anticipation it had stupidly built up. “No, I don't have a boyfriend, Spencer.”

“Great okay,” he smiled, a boyish grin if you'd ever seen one, before backtracking quickly.

“Well not great for you, great for me. Not that you can't be happy alone, I don't know how you feel about…romantic entanglements and I-I-I’m not saying that your life isn't,” he searched for the words with his hands, as of he could grasp them as a life line while he was sinking fast. “-Great without a boyfriend or anything like that, I'm just - really - pleased that position is currently… vacant?”

“Spencer?” You said, feeling like a cat who got the cream as a smile twitched at your lips, pulling the corners up as you listened to him ramble.

“Yes?”

“Do you want to be my boyfriend or are you asking for a friend?”

You'd meant the words as a joke but he stood contemplating for a second. You pushed a hand against your mouth to suppress the childish squeal from popping out.

“It would be a bit presumptuous to shoot straight for boyfriend, right? How about date ....partner?”

You couldn't stop yourself from closing in on him then, practically cornering him in the elevator as the floors passed you by.

“Presumptuous would be thinking I could have a boyfriend when I've been begging you to stick your tongue down my throat with my eyes for the last half hour. I thought they taught you body language at the BAU?”

“They teach us how to catch criminals, not how to see when someone is giving us…fuck me eyes, Y/N.” The curse left you a little dizzy - this was it, this was what you'd been trying to do all week, to get under his skin and get him to let his guard down so you could capture him.

“Doctor Reid, I'm a little scandalized! I didn't know you swore. What a dirty mouth you have.” You reached up with both hands, letting your thumb on his lips before pretending to wipe something away at the corner of his mouth. You were in the perfect position to notice his throat bob as he swallowed.

The elevator pinged at your floor, and you left him behind you with one last swipe of your fingers at his chin. You weren't expecting him to follow, but he did.

“Y/N…please, Y/N…. Can we just…?” You relished the awkwardness in his voice as he trailed you again, a satisfied smile settling onto your face.

You just kept walking. Or you did until you felt a large hand wrap around your wrist and pull you sideways into the nearest storage cupboard.

You gasped as he pinned you to the wall, close not, but his eyes still hesitant on what to do next.

“Spen-” He cut you off with his lips on yours, silencing you before you could get the final word. His lips were clumsy at first, but you felt hot under his touch arching yourself up into him. His tongue pushed into your mouth as he found his stride, your hands tangling in his hair as you held on for dear life.

This was it. This was what you'd been waiting for.

Reluctantly, he pulled away, both of you gasping for breath to fill your suddenly empty lungs.

“Was that….what… you wanted?” He panted, resting his head on yours.

There were no words. It was what you wanted but now you wanted more, needed more. You settled for a quick nod as your tongue flamed, unable to say anything helpful.

“Good. Great…” he removed his hands from you and scratched at the back of his neck, putting a more respectful distance between the two of you as he cleared his throat.

“I'll just-” he pointed to the door and started making his way out. You sighed again, watching him walk away down the hall, his hair a mess, his tie askew, and a whole lot of your lipstick staining his lips.

Surely, he'd notice by the time anyone else did. If not, you'd just effectively staked your claim on Doctor Spencer Reid, and you couldn't be happier about it.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x self insert #�� anon

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mononijikayu · 9 months ago

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come back to me — geto suguru.

"I need to tell you something." he said, his voice low, rough with guilt. “It’s... it’s over. Everything.” You frowned, stepping closer to him, concern etched in your features. “What do you mean?” He met your eyes then, and you saw it—the shift, the darkness lurking behind them. His expression was distant, hollow. "I killed them. The village, my parents... I killed them all."

GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence;

WARNING/S: dead dove: do not eat, dark fic, nsfw (not safe for work), r -18, angst, hurt/no comfort, toxic romance, character death, murder, guilt, remorse, horror, sorrow, tragedy, lovers, canon related violence, choking, violence, curse creature, ghostly figure, anguish, emotional instability, emotional, haunting, betrayal, unfinished business, depiction of character death, depiction of murder, depiction of emotional instability, depiction of choking, depiction of anguish, depiction of guilt, depiction of sorrow, depiction of ghostly figure, mention of mass murder, mention of death, curse user defector! geto suguru, victim girlfriend! reader;

WORDS: 7k words.

NOTE: this is probably the first time i'm writing something that is a dead dove, because i was curious how i would do when writing something as heavy and as horrific as something like this. i wanted to be able to write it properly, because not only is it kinktober, it is also spookytober. so, i had this in mind. i wanted to participate at least once. so, i hope that even though this might not be your cup of tea, it be something of interest to you. but if you can't read it right now, that's okay too. i'll publish more works soon enough!!! i love you all <3

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HE CAN SEE YOU EVERYWHERE. And it was his own fault. A fault, of course, he does not regret. A fault he incurs with wanting, and greed. You haunt Geto Suguru and there was nothing else but it to last forever. You haunt his existence as though you own it. Everything about was drifting through his every thought like a shadow he can't shake.

He had known this would happen. He had anticipated it ever since that day. The day he crossed the line from the man he once was into something darker, something twisted by hatred, madness and grief.

He had expected your presence to follow him. He had expected that you would never leave him alone. Geto Suguru had always wanted it. He had always wanted you. For you were everything. You were the beginning and end.

You were too important, too loved by him. You cannot leave him. You cannot go astray from him. Because he had made it so. He had made it so and it shall be like that. After all, he was the one that took your life. There was no other way about it. And he remembers. He remembers it distinctly. He remembers it all too well.

It was after the massacre, after he had ended up doing what he had done. Still in his blooded clothes, weary and exhausted, he did not hesitate in all he had done. Why should he? Why should he feel regret now when his heart, his soul, his everything, was corrupted by the greed and indifference of others?

That village had been reduced to nothing but ash and ruin, its people were swiftly slaughtered by his own hand. And all that remained was ash and bone, the dark charred bitterness burning amid the blue flames.

He of course did not stop there. He couldn't. It was as though he was in autopilot. As though no one was home. And yet, he remembers. He feels the contradiction of it all. But he does not need to admit to fault. The result was obvious. It was secured by fate. The fate he had chosen.

He took Mimiko and Nanako and brought them somewhere safe. And all that he could think of his house. It would be empty. His parents wouldn't be home. And he take what he needed and leave. He could leave. But he was a fool for thinking that everything would go swiftly as he planned.

Within an hour of him trying to take everything, he silences Mimiko and Nanako and tells them to keep the TV on, as loud as possible. And no matter what, do not come down. The two young girls agreed, they were smiling too. They would do anything he'd asked. For after all, he was the one who had saved them from these....these cruel creatures that had nearly taken their lives.

Geto Suguru has always had a difficult relationship with his parents. But even then, he had cared for him. He was a filial son, he knew that about himself. Yet he knew that he had gone far already with what he had done.

He cannot let his parents be an exception. Not even if they weren't at fault. Even if they didn't do anything. He can't be lenient. Geto Suguru lets his steps be firm, even if he knows he can't. He could remember his mother's greeting, seeing him. His father's little hey. It was almost like his childhood agaian.

"You staying the night, 'guru?" His mother asks him as she puts down the grocery bags. "I thought it would still be a school night."

"Let him be, dear." His father says, smiling at his wife. "We always work, he's always at school. Let's just enjoy having him around for a little more time."

His mother laughs. "You're right. We might as well enjoy our son being here."

"Oh, 'guru. Is that ketchup stains on your shirt?" His mother gasped, spotting the red stain on his white school shirt. "Take it off, 'guru! Let me clean it. Go and change, you must be tired―"

"You can do it later, dear." His father says, as he starts clearing out the groceries. "I'm sure that you can wash it later. If Suguru wants to spend some more time with us, then wash it later."

His mother pouts at his father's words. "I suppose so."

"Mom, dad." Suguru finally talks, raising his head a little. His eyes meeting that of his mother and father. He catches their attention and he stays still.

For a moment, he could see everything of him in his mother and his father. His mother's purple eyes, his father's tender lips. His mother's long black hair. His father's gentle face. He could see all of him in them. And he's going to destroy it. He's going to ruin it. He has to. There's no other way.

His mother's brows raised a bit confused. "What is it, 'guru? Do you want anything?"

"I'm sorry."

In that moment, maybe they did notice what was wrong with him. After months of suffering, after this whole year, maybe they finally noticed. But they noticed too late. They noticed too late when he already had resolve.

"Hey, son. If there's anything you want to talk to us about, you can." His father says to him, walking towards him. This was the last time Suguru would see his father's kind face. "We love you son, you know that. You can tell us anything."

"I love you too." Suguru whispers, lifting his head whole. He reveals tears pouring from his face. "I'm sorry."

Those were the last words he said to his parents. Those were the last thing they heard from him as his curses took them both one by one and destroyed what remained of who he was.

Geto Suguru sobbed for a long while, looking at the blood. Looking at what he had done. He sobbed and sobbed until nothing could come out. But what was done was done. He needed to move forward. There was only one thing left.

And yet, after all that bloodshed, he went to you. Not out of regret, not out of any moral dilemma, but he was too far gone for that. He had to close all his ties. He had to disappear. Geto Suguru cannot remain. He has to die. And what better way than to end you too.

If Geto Suguru had one thing he was truly happy in his life about, it was you. And you were his everything. You were the one constant, the one person who had always been there.

You, his childhood friend, the girl who had stood beside him through everything. And more than that, you were the love of his life. The woman he'd once dreamed of marrying, of building a future with before everything unraveled.

When Geto Suguru arrived at your house, everything was still. You were sitting alone, your parents gone, much like his had been your entire lives, leaving the house in an eerie silence. You were the last peaceful thing in his world.

And he has to take you away. You weren't meant for this dirty world. You were the purest thing in his life. You can't be here. Not when he wrecks everything whole. You can't, you can't be tarnished more than you will be.

As he stepped into the room, you looked up and your face lit up, just like it always did. You were so beautiful to him. The most beautiful star in his sky. Forever infinitely so pure. His beloved.

You smiled at him like nothing had changed, as if the boy standing before you was still the same Suguru you had known all those years. You were happy to see him, your eyes full of warmth, unburdened by the weight of the horrors he had committed just hours before.

“Suguru!” you greeted him, standing up and crossing the room to meet him. Your voice was soft, affectionate, carrying none of the tension or fear that had filled his life. “I’ve missed you.”

For a moment, in that single heartbeat, he almost let himself believe it—that he could be that man again. The boy who smiled and laughed with you. The one who loved you with every part of himself. He could feel the familiar tug in his chest, the love he had always felt for you, pulling him back from the brink. And for a second, he almost let himself forget.

But deep down, Suguru knew. The path he had chosen was irreversible. He had come too far, burned too much of himself away to ever turn back. There was no room left for love, for innocence, for the life he had once dreamed of with you. He had destroyed it all, and now everything around him had to fall too. Even you.

You didn’t see it coming. You had no idea of the darkness that had consumed him. You looked at him as if nothing had changed—as if he were still the boy who had promised to protect you, to always stand by your side. And that was the part that hurt him the most.

"Suguru, what's wrong?" you asked softly, reaching out to touch his arm. "You look... tired. Are you okay?"

He flinched at your touch, as though your kindness was too much to bear. He turned his face away, swallowing the bitterness rising in his throat. How could he even begin to explain? How could he tell you what he had done, the blood that stained his hands, the lives he had taken?

"I need to tell you something." he said, his voice low, rough with guilt. “It’s... it’s over. Everything.”

You frowned, stepping closer to him, concern etched in your features. “What do you mean?”

He met your eyes then, and you saw it—the shift, the darkness lurking behind them. His expression was distant, hollow. "I killed them. The village, my parents... I killed them all."

Your breath hitched. For a moment, you didn’t understand. You didn’t want to. “What are you talking about?” you whispered, shaking your head, disbelief coloring your voice. “That’s... that’s not possible. You wouldn’t—”

“I did.” His voice was cold, flat, devoid of emotion. “I killed them. They deserved it.”

Your knees buckled, and you stumbled back, eyes wide in shock. You couldn’t reconcile the words he was saying with the boy standing in front of you. “No... no, that’s not you, Suguru. You wouldn’t do something like that. You.... you would never.”

But as you looked into his eyes, the reality of it sank in. You could see it. Little by little, you pieced it all together. You could see the darkness that had swallowed him whole, the monster he had become. And your heart broke, shattered into pieces as you realized what he had done, what he was planning to do.

“I’m sorry, my love.” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, but there was no warmth in it. “You have to understand... I can’t let you live. Not like this. Not anymore.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but even then, even as the weight of his betrayal crushed you, you didn’t hate him. You couldn’t. This was Geto Suguru; the boy who had always been gentle with you, who had held your hand on dark nights and made you believe in a future together. Your everything.

Just as much as you were his everything. You loved him. You still do love him. How could you not? He was and always will be the love of your life. You didn’t hate him, but you were afraid. Not of death, but of what he had become.

“Suguru…….” Your voice trembled. “You don’t have to do this. Please.”

He looked away, clenching his fists, his jaw tight. “I do.”

“But I love you.” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I still love you. Even now. Isn't that enough?”

His heart ached at your words, the pain of your love cutting deeper than any blade. He had come too far, done too much. There was no going back, not for him, not for either of you. He cannot stop. If he could do it to his parents, he could do it to you.

But you—you were different. He couldn't kill you like he had killed the others. He didn’t want to see fear in your eyes, didn’t want to hear you scream or beg for mercy. You deserved better than that, better than what the world had given you, even if he no longer deserved you.

So he made a choice. A twisted act of love, the last shred of mercy he could offer.

“I’m sorry, my love.” he repeated, stepping closer, his voice soft now. "You won’t feel anything. You’ll just fall asleep, and... you’ll dream. A dream that never ends."

Your tears fell freely, but you didn’t move. You didn’t try to run. How could you? You were in disbelief. You were in absolute mania, you were in a madness. There was no way you could. You cannot do anything but be still, in shock, and wait for the end. Betrayed, hurt and gone by the one that you loved the most.

Or perhaps, maybe you had always known it would come to this; that the boy you had loved had been consumed by the darkness, and there was no saving him. Maybe it was just fate. Or maybe you were just too kind, too trusting, too good for this world. Suguru would never know.

He held you close, cradling you in his arms, and for a moment, you let yourself believe everything would be okay. That somehow, this nightmare would end, and you would wake up in the arms of the boy you loved, the one who would protect you. But deep down, you knew that wasn’t the case.

He just kept you beside him all through the night, for what felt like hours, maybe longer. Your body was so still in his arms, as though the weight of the world had finally let go of you. You were so quiet, so calm, as if you had already accepted what was coming.

Maybe you knew, deep down, that the boy you had loved so fiercely, so fully, had become someone else. That he had become this person lost in a sea of hate and ambition, far beyond the innocent dreams you had once shared together.

Geto Suguru wondered if you had always known that it would come to this, that the path he had chosen would inevitably lead you to this moment of no return. That you had always known that he will be your beginning and end. That you would belong to him no matter what, life and in death. Because he didn't. Until now.

“I’m so sorry. I love you.” he whispered one last time, his voice cracking, as he used his curse on you—the one that could curse with a dream that would never end.

You felt yourself slipping away, your body growing heavy, your eyelids fluttering shut. But there was no fear, no pain. Just a deep, endless sleep. Suguru’s heart clenched. He knew what he was about to do. He had already gone too far—there was no turning back.

You would never have followed him down the path he had chosen, the path of darkness and destruction. You were too pure, too gentle, to walk the same road as him. You would never raise a hand to hurt anyone, even if it meant saving yourself. That was the kind of person you were, the kind of person he could never be.

So, this dream; this was all he could give you. It was the only gift left that wasn’t tainted by his sins.

His curse; a dream that would never end. It was his final act of love, his last attempt to protect you from the reality he had created. With it, he could give you what the real world had taken away from both of you.

He could give you the life you should have had. The life he had stolen from you when he became the monster you never deserved. In this dream, you could live peacefully, forever untouched by the violence and corruption that had consumed him. In this dream, you could be happy. You could be free.

He watched as your breathing grew softer, your chest rising and falling in a steady, peaceful rhythm. And in that moment, Suguru let himself imagine what your dream was like. Maybe it was a simple life, the kind you had always wanted.

Maybe the two of you were walking through the fields of a quiet village, hand in hand, with the sun setting on the horizon. Or maybe you were sitting beneath a tree, with your head resting on his shoulder, laughing about nothing at all.

He pictured the softness of your smile, the warmth of your touch, moments of joy that you would never experience again, not in the real world. But in this dream, it would be eternal. And most of all, it would be final. It would be the end. And there would be no path to return.

In this dream, the two of you could grow old together. You could have the life that you both had once spoken about when you were younger, before everything had gone wrong. There would be no death, no suffering. Only love. Only peace.

As your body stilled completely, Geto Suguru’s heart ached with the weight of what he had done. He had cursed you, just as he had cursed so many others, but this curse was different. This one was born out of love.

A twisted, desperate love that couldn’t save you, but could at least offer you a kind of peace. It wasn’t enough. He knew that. It was never going to be enough. But it was all he could give.

"I’m sorry, my love." he whispered, his voice breaking in the silence of the night. "I’m so sorry."

He could never undo what he had done. He couldn’t bring you back, not really. But he could give you this, a life lived in the dream of what could have been. And maybe, just maybe, that would be enough for you.

But as the hours passed, and the weight of your absence began to sink in, Suguru knew the truth; he hadn’t done this just for you. He had done it for himself. To hold on to the illusion of what he had destroyed. To keep you with him, in some way, even if it was only in the depths of a dream that would never end.

It was all he had left

You never woke up.

“I love you, I love you.” he whispered into the silence, knowing you would never hear him. "Always."

And as he laid you down, letting you drift into the dream he had cursed you with, he knew he would never find peace again.

He had seen it in your eyes when he came to you that night. There was no anger, no fear—just a deep, silent understanding. It wasn’t the kind of acceptance that came from giving up; it was something softer, sadder.

Maybe you had already resigned yourself to the fact that Suguru could no longer protect you, that the man he had become could only destroy the things he once cherished. He wondered if, in your heart, you had always known that the love you had given him so freely would be the very thing that led to your end.

Or maybe, he thought, you were simply too good for this world. Too kind, too pure. He never really knew. The way you looked at him that night, with the same softness you always had, even after everything. He couldn’t understand it. He had expected fear, maybe even hatred. But there was none of that. Just love, unwavering, even in the face of what he had become.

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HE PAYS FOR HIS SINS WITH THIS. Every evil act has a gift in return. Everything has a consequence. And he knew that you would die with some hatred in you. That you wouldn't go without a fight, without resentment. You would be bound to materialize as the shadow of what life could have been and the regrets he had made it to be.

Because of he had done, your ghost lingers. You were his constant reminder of what he threw away. You were all he wanted and all he had wasted. The person he loved the most and the person he ruined the most. In his mind, he can still feel the warmth of your embrace, still hear the way you said his name with love and trust.

He killed you because he had to. Because his mission demanded it—but the truth is, he didn’t want you to die. He had never wanted that. He had wanted you by his side, forever. But in his quest for destruction, he had destroyed the only thing that had ever truly mattered to him.

Even now, he can feel you. The weight of your absence presses down on him, but so does the weight of your presence. You’re always there, just out of reach, watching him, haunting him.

He sees you in his dreams, in his nightmares, in the quiet moments when he’s alone with his thoughts. He wonders what could have been, if only he had made a different choice. But that world is gone, along with you, and all he has left is the ghost of the life he should have had.

In the end, it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t deserve to die. But he had gone too far, and in doing so, he lost the one person who had always believed in him. Now, your love is a memory that torments him, and your ghost is a shadow that will never leave his side.

"Do you hate me?" Suguru's voice trembled as he sat at the edge of the bed where he had last held you.

No one was living here anymore, your parents couldn't bear it. And so he bought the house, with a proxy. And left everything just the way it was. The room still smelled like you. It always will. Everything in this house will be you. Everything in his life is you.

There were faint traces of the perfume you wore, the lingering scent of your skin, and the warmth that used to make this place feel like home. The dresses you liked to wear when you both would go on those rare dates. The smell of your shampoo lingers in your bathroom. He remembered the way his nose would rest against it when you both slept together.

The home had been so abundantly you. Everything about it was you. And now, it was just a hollow space, like a tomb. All his regrets lay there. All his grief resided here. Everything was here. And he couldn't take it. He couldn't abandon it. He couldn't live with it. But he had to. He has to live. He has to live haunted by you.

Because he was sure, hell would be his place. And he would never see you again. He would never know you again. He would only ever live in misery there without you, without traces of you. He could feel his heart beat in his chest, heavy and erratic, waiting for something. Anything. Just a little sign from the presence he could always feel around him.

You didn't answer, not with words. You never did. But there was a weight in the air, a feeling that always hovered when he thought of you. He could feel your sadness, the disappointment that clung to the silence between them. It cut deeper than any curse could.

"I... I didn't want it to be like this, my love." he whispered, gripping the sheets beneath him, the same ones you used to curl up in. His fingers twisted in the fabric, the pressure keeping his hands from shaking.

"I thought... If I let you go gently, it would be enough. It would be kinder. But I was wrong, wasn’t I? I should...I should have taken you with me. Abandoned the world. We could... we could have been together."

There was no reply, but the stillness in the room felt heavier. The silence was cruel. But it was what he deserved. He could imagine your eyes on him, those soft, kind eyes that had once looked at him with nothing but love. Now, he wondered if they would have only looked at him with sorrow.

"I loved you, the most in the world." he said, almost to himself. His voice cracked, the admission pulling something raw from deep within. "I still do. I don't know if that matters now, but I wanted you to know. Even after everything... I loved you more than I loved anything. Even the hate. Even the darkness. But that didn’t change anything."

The words felt hollow, like a confession given too late to a ghost that could no longer forgive. He buried his face in his hands, the weight of the years, of his choices, pressing down on him like a thousand stones. He did this to himself. He did this to you. He had no right to feel sorrow. No right to feel remorse or longing.

"I used to think I could fix it. That somehow, I’d find a way to make everything right. That maybe... Maybe if I succeeded, I’d see you again, and you’d understand. That you’d forgive me." He laughed, but it was empty, bitter. "But I don’t deserve it, do I? I killed you. I killed the woman I loved more than anything in this world, and for what?"

He stood suddenly, unable to sit still any longer, pacing the room. "What did I gain? Power? Control? None of it matters. None of it ever mattered without you."

The room seemed to shift then, the shadows curling in the corners, and for a moment, he thought he saw you. A glimpse, just out of the corner of his eye, like a faint outline of your silhouette. He froze, heart pounding, and for the briefest second, hope flickered in his chest. Could it be?..........

"Suguru......." Your voice was soft, barely a whisper, but it pierced through the silence like a dagger. "Suguru........."

He turned, but there was nothing. Just the dim light filtering through the curtains, the room empty as it always had been. But the voice lingered, echoing in his mind.

"Suguru..."

He closed his eyes, breathing in deeply, trying to hold onto the sound of your voice, as though he could pull you back into reality. "I'm sorry, my love." he whispered. "I’m so sorry."

For a long moment, there was nothing but the hum of the wind outside, the creak of the old floorboards beneath his feet. And then, in the stillness, something seemed to shift again. The presence was still there, but softer, like a gentle hand on his shoulder, a touch that wasn’t quite there but wasn’t gone either.

"I never wanted this, I…." he whispered, his voice breaking. "I never wanted to hurt you. But I didn’t know how to stop. I couldn’t stop."

There was no answer, but in the silence that followed, there was a warmth—a fleeting warmth, like the last rays of sunlight before nightfall. It wrapped around him, gentle, forgiving, and for just a moment, he thought that maybe you didn’t hate him after all.

But then it was gone.

Just like you were.

Just like everything.

And he was alone again, in the house where you had once lived, haunted by the love he had destroyed with his own hands.

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HUMAN GREED IS THIS, HE LIKES TO THINK. Even though he was the most undeserving being in existence, he wanted to be greedy. He wanted to be greedy when it came to you. He can't help it. He wanted you, no matter what. He yearns for you no matter the case. Even if it's to curse him, he wants to see you again. You became a cursed ghost, bound to him like the shadow of every terrible thing he had done.

Geto Suguru felt your presence in everything he did, in every step he took. It was unavoidable. When he would wake up, he knows you were calling his name. When he was in his dreams, you would look at him, without saying anything.

You haunted him relentlessly, silently, like a specter of the life he had stolen from you, and from himself. He couldn't escape you. He didn’t deserve to. He doesn't want to. He doesn't think he should. Not when he loves you most.

At first, he tried to ignore it. He tried to pretend that your death had been some kind of mercy, that he had spared you the pain that had consumed everyone else. Because that was what he had thought when he had taken your life. That's what he thought he was doing. He thought he was standing by you.

But as the years passed by, he knew that he was in the wrong. He accepted that he was in the wrong. That he had caused misery beyond compare. Not only for him but the most, for you. You were robbed of everything. Because he willed it.

And you couldn't accept it. He knew you wouldn't. Even if you had not done anything when he had killed you, you resented him. He knew that for a fact. Because you would not have materialized, your spirit wouldn't have lingered if that was the case. You resented him. And you loved him. You wanted him to pay and you wanted to hold him.

You followed him through the days and the nights, never speaking, but always there—watching, waiting. Your eyes, once full of love and warmth, now filled with sadness, sorrow, and something worse: disappointment.

If he was being honest, Suguru hated it. He cannot take how you look at him with those eyes. He cannot understand how it hurt him, how it can put him to the worst of grief. Over and over again.

He hated how tainted you had become because of him, how his hands, once capable of tenderness, had defiled your soul. You were twisted now, corrupted by his actions, bound to this cursed existence because of him.

He had stained you, dragged you into the darkness with him, and now, he could never set you free. You were a cursed being, a remnant of everything pure he had ruined.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw you. Every time he breathed, it was like you were just behind him, your breath a cold whisper on his neck. When he fought, when he killed, when he walked among the ruins he had created, you were there, like a silent witness to his sins. You never left him alone. And he had a love and hate for the fact.

And in the stillness, in the quiet moments between battles, he would feel your sadness radiating from the shadows, like a knife twisted into his chest. The more he tried to push you away, the tighter your curse clung to him, a constant reminder of what he had done.

It wasn’t fair. You didn’t deserve this. You had been innocent. You had been his love, his reason for hope in a world full of hatred. You were the light he had turned away from, and in doing so, he had dragged you into the abyss with him. And now, you were part of that same darkness. A monstrosity of his own making.

He wanted to give you peace. He wanted to free you, to find a way to release your soul from the curse he had placed upon you. But deep down, he knew he couldn’t. He had gone too far, and there was no redemption, not for him, and not for you. This was all that was left of the love you shared—a twisted, haunted existence. You were bound to him in life, and now in death, you were bound to him still.

Suguru couldn’t forgive himself for what he had done to you. He couldn’t bear the weight of knowing that even in death, you had no peace. You should have been free, your soul at rest, away from the horrors of the world he had embraced. But instead, you were with him, suffering, watching him destroy everything, even himself.

"This isn’t what you deserved." he whispered one night, his voice shaking as he sat alone, surrounded by the cold, oppressive air of your ghost. "But that's all I have left of you."

And in his heart, he knew the truth: he had destroyed everything good in his life, including you. Now, all he had left was this haunting, this curse, this twisted version of the love he had once cherished. It was his punishment, the monstrosity of his own creation, and he would carry it with him until the very end.

You began to interact with him, more than just a haunting presence. At first, it was subtle—a cold breeze across his skin when the windows were closed, the flicker of shadows in the corner of his vision, the soft rustle of something moving when no one was there.

But as the days passed, it became more intense. You weren’t just watching him anymore. You were with him, and that made the guilt all the more unbearable. He could tell that you didn't know how to feel about it. One moment, you adored him. One moment you hated him. Each and every time, he took it. He yearned for it. He wants it to repeat over and over.

Suguru could feel it in every brush of cold air, in every movement you made. There was nothing left of the person you once were. You were no longer the girl who had loved him, the one who smiled and laughed, whose touch brought him comfort.

What was left was a hollow shell of your soul, twisted and broken by his actions. The broken body of a ghost that wanted nothing more to be free. To hate him, to love him and to leave him. And yet, despite knowing this, despite knowing that he had destroyed you beyond recognition, he still couldn’t let you go.

It was his greed that bound you, his selfish desire to keep you close, no matter what you had become. Even now, even as you haunted him, as you tormented him with your presence, he clung to you like you were his last lifeline.

He convinced himself that this was you, that this cursed, fractured version of your spirit was the real you coming back to him. He needed to believe it because the alternative; the idea that you were gone, truly gone, was too painful to bear.

In his twisted mind, he told himself that you stayed because you loved him. That even though he had shattered your soul, even though he had ripped you away from everything you knew, you still came back to him. You came back because you loved him the most. And that was enough for him, even if it wasn’t the truth.

But the truth was something he could never fully escape. He knew, deep down, that you hated him. He saw it in the way your spirit lashed out at him at night, the way you hovered over him, watching him with eyes that burned with anger and grief.

Sometimes, when the room grew still and dark, he could feel your hands—those same hands that once touched him with love—wrap around his throat, cold and vengeful, pressing down as if you were trying to choke the life from him. You wanted him dead. He knew that.

There were extreme nights, when you would feel your death over and over again. Where you would feel the anger and the grief and the pain overwhelm you. In those nights, you tried to kill him. Your cold, spectral fingers would tighten around his neck or press into his chest, making his heart race with terror.

He would wake in a panic, gasping for air, drenched in sweat, his body shaking from the closeness of death. And yet, even as he lay there, heart pounding, knowing you had just tried to take his life, he couldn’t let you go. The more you hated him, the more he needed to keep you close.

"I know you hate me, my love." he whispered one night, after waking from another attack. His voice was hoarse, his throat raw from where your ghostly fingers had pressed down on his windpipe.

"I deserve it. I deserve all of it. But… you came back to me, didn’t you? You could’ve gone anywhere, but you came back to me."

There was no answer, just the icy stillness that filled the room, but he swore he could feel you there, hovering just out of sight, watching him with those same cold, dead eyes as you kept pushing over and over again. You wanted him to die. You wanted him to pay. But he could see it too, how you wanted to stop yourself too.

"Even if you hate me, I need you here." he continued, his voice breaking. "Because you love me… you still love me, right?"

The silence stretched on, and for a moment, he almost believed he could hear your voice, your real voice, telling him that it was true. That you did love him, even after everything. That you wanted to say sorry over and over again.

But then, the familiar cold returned, creeping up his spine like the touch of death itself, and he felt your hands again, tighten against his skin. Only this time, colder, harsher, more brutal. More willing to kill. More willing to take his life in revenge. He had never seen you like this before. He had never seen you so angry at him before.

And he knew he deserved it. He knew it is what you should feel. He hurt people, he hurt you. He killed you. You had every right to want to take his life for yours. Even like this. Even after all this time. He would let you. As he had done before, he lay himself defenseless, at your mercy. He was ready to be taken to hell by your angelic arms. Even if he didn't deserve it. You pressed harder, digging into his flesh, as if you were trying to crush him.

"I’m sorry. I’m so sorry." he gasped, fighting for air, tears blurring his vision as he clawed at the emptiness around him. "I’m sorry for everything! But I can’t— I can’t let you go."

And that was the truth. No matter how much you hated him, no matter how many times you tried to kill him in the dead of night, he couldn’t let go of what little was left of you. You were all he had, even if what remained of you was a cursed, vengeful spirit, twisted by his own cruelty.

You were the only thing in his world that still meant anything. You were the last piece of the life he had destroyed, and he would cling to you, even if it killed him. Because that's the only way he could survive. That's the only way he could continue with this. Life is meaningless if you cannot be there. Even if it's to hurt him.

He hated himself for it. He hated the way his greed had tainted your soul, how his selfishness had turned you into this monstrous version of the woman he loved. The promise he had made was his failure. His eternal mistake. But it didn’t matter. In his broken mind, this was better than nothing.

"I’ll keep you with me, my love." he whispered, even as your fingers gripped his throat once more, sending waves of pain through his body. "Even if you kill me, I’ll never let you go."

For a moment, you were silent.

You just keep pushing on and on.

But he could see it as clear as day.

Tears were falling down on your face.

"I know." He croaks out with a struggle. He could feel his skin turn blue and purple as you kept pushing. "I....I know."

No, he thinks to himself. He will never truly know.

He was still alive.

And you were dead.

▐░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▌

MISERY HAS COME TO AN END. This was what he had been waiting for since that day he had taken your life. He couldn't wait for it. He wanted for it to be over. He wanted for it to be done. As Geto Suguru lay there, life slowly draining from his body, Gojo Satoru stood above him, his face unreadable but filled with a deep, unspoken sadness.

The air around them felt thick, charged with the weight of years gone by, of a friendship that had crumbled under the weight of Suguru’s choices. But there was something else in that moment, something that Suguru had felt long before Gojo Satoru arrived. There was a presence that lingered, watching, always there. You.

You stood in the shadows, just out of reach but ever-present, as you had been for so long. He could feel your gaze, cold and sharp, cutting through the haze of his fading consciousness. He didn’t need to see you to know you were there; he always knew. Even as his body weakened, even as death crept closer, you were the one thing he could still feel.

Suguru's breathing was ragged, each breath a struggle, but he forced his eyes to focus, searching for you through the mist of pain and regret. And there you were—silent, ghostly, unchanged in the years that had passed since he had taken your life.

Your face was a mixture of sorrow and rage, just as it always had been since you had become this cursed existence. It was so real, it felt so real. You were here. He had made you this way, and he knew it. The weight of that knowledge pressed down on him harder than any physical pain ever could.

“I knew you’d be here, my love.” he rasped, his voice weak, barely above a whisper. Blood trickled from his mouth, but he didn’t care. All that mattered now was you.

You stared at him, your eyes burning with the same hatred and sorrow that had haunted him for so long. But behind that, there was something else, something deeper that had always lingered between you….love. It was fractured, twisted by the years of torment, but it was still there, in the way you watched him now, waiting.

"I—" He coughed, the pain wracking his body, but he forced the words out, knowing he didn’t have much time. "I’m sorry… I’m so sorry. For everything. For what I did to you. For taking you away. I never wanted it to be like this."

Your expression didn’t change, but Geto Suguru could feel the weight of your emotions. He could always feel it, the depth of your pain, your anger, and the love that had been tainted by his cruelty.

"I don’t deserve forgiveness, my love." he continued, his voice trembling, "I know that. I don’t even ask for it. But… I need you to stay with me." His purple eyes, dark and filled with regret, locked onto yours.

"Hate me. Keep hating me for what I did. I deserve it. Stay angry. Stay hurt. Just—" His voice cracked, and for a moment, the mask of strength he had worn for so long fell away, revealing the broken man beneath. "Just don’t leave me."

You didn’t move, but something in your gaze softened, just for a moment, and Suguru’s heart clenched.

"I need you to keep loving me." he whispered, barely audible now, the strength leaving him with each breath. "Even if it’s hate. Even if it’s anger. Please… don’t ever leave. Stay with me, even in death."

There was silence for a long moment, the world around him fading, the edges of reality blurring. Gojo Satoru’s presence was there, a silent witness to this final moment, but all Suguru could focus on was you. The one person he had loved, the one person he had destroyed.

And in that silence, he thought he saw you nod. It wasn’t forgiveness. He knew that you could never give him that. Not even if you wanted to. So, he didn’t expect that. But it was something, a promise of sorts, that you would remain, that you would stay by his side, even in the twisted, cursed way you had been for so long.

You had no other choice. You were tied to him. Even if you were an angel, you were his to have killed. And you were his to keep. One way or another, you were doomed with him.

As the light in his eyes began to dim, Suguru let out one last breath, his body finally succumbing to the weight of it all. But even as the world around him slipped away, he felt you there, just as he had always wanted. He wanted forever. He wanted you to be bound to him, through love, hate, and everything in between.

And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Geto Suguru felt a sense of peace, knowing that in death, you would never leave his side.

As Suguru’s body lay still, life finally left him, your form so long bound to his cursed existence, everything had begun to change. The air around you shifted, the heaviness that had weighed you down for years slowly lifting.

You had been tied to him for so long, your soul twisted by the hatred and sorrow of what he had done to you. But now, with his death, the curse that had held you in this half-life, in this torment, began to unravel.

You felt it—slowly, like a breath you hadn’t taken in so many years. The pull that had kept you bound to him, the chains of guilt, anger, and love, began to fade. It wasn’t quick; the pain was still there, raw and deep, but it was easing, loosening its grip on your soul.

The twisted form you had taken, the vengeful ghost that had followed Suguru through every step, began to dissolve. You were withering away, piece by piece, the curse unraveling like a thread in the wind.

But there was no joy in it. No relief. Instead, as you felt your spirit beginning to break free, something strange and unexpected filled you—grief.

The years of anger, hatred, and sorrow were fading, and with them, the love you had once held so deeply for him, a love that had persisted despite everything. As the curse released its grip on you, tears began to fall, silent and steady, down your ghostly face.

Gojo Satoru stood above Geto Suguru, watching it all unfold. He had always known about you, the shadow that haunted his best friend, the curse that Suguru had created out of his own guilt and selfish love.

But seeing it now, seeing the way your form withered away, your tears falling like echoes of a past long gone, it struck him in a way he hadn’t expected. He didn’t need to see the full story to understand what you were; what you had been to Suguru, and what he had taken from you.

Your tears shimmered in the fading light, and Gojo Satoru, ever perceptive, caught the faint glisten of them. He could feel the depth of your pain, even now, as you began to fade from the world.

The sight of your sorrow, of your spirit being freed but still weighed down by the lingering grief, hit something in him that he rarely allowed anyone to see. His usual mask of indifference slipped, just for a moment, and he sighed softly.

“Love really is the worst curse, huh.” he murmured to himself, his voice low, almost as though he were speaking to the empty air, to you.

He understood, more than most, how love could bind, twist, and destroy. He had seen it countless times in the lives of others, and now, here, at the end of everything, he saw it in Suguru’s last moments and in your ghostly form, finally free but forever marked by what had been done to you.

You didn’t answer him—you couldn’t. Your form was fading faster now, the last remnants of your curse dissolving into the air. But as you disappeared, your tears fell one last time, a final release of all the pain you had carried, of all the love and hate that had twisted you into what you had become.

Gojo watched you until there was nothing left, just the faint whisper of your presence lingering in the silence. He looked down at Suguru, his once closest friend, and felt a deep, bittersweet sorrow wash over him. He knew that, in the end, both of you had been cursed by love, in different ways. And now, both of you are gone.

With one last glance at the empty space where your spirit had been, Gojo Satoru sighed again, his heart heavy. What a tragedy of a life it all had been.

"Yeah……" he whispered to himself. "The worst curse of all."

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