#I love the expressions he makes when some horrific shit is happening | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

g0ttal0ve101 · 7 months

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Halloween Special

Note: *looks at the date* *looks at you* this isn’t late at all!! TW: suggestive and a splash of violence :33

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Prologue.

“I don’t th…think this is a good idea,” Sam stammered while grasping onto his forearm, only to be knocked off like a fly.

“Will you relax? It’s just a stupid corn maze.” Thomas snickered and launched his elbow into Sam’s fragile stomach, knocking the wind out of him instantaneously. He groaned in pain and hunched over, trailing behind due to the pain coursing through his body. “What, you think some escaped mental asylum patient is gonna be waiting out there for a bunch of teenagers to brutally murder? Huh? Actually, that would be kinda cool.”

“Knock it off, dumbass.” Evelyn hissed, pulling her silky hair back into a neat ponytail. She dodged every pit of mud that she came across with a disgusted expression arising on her face. Thomas thought it was pretty cute. “You’re lucky we even decided to come. I should be at home right now, making Violet tea for when she gets off work…” And from there, she went on to explain her schedule from the tiniest of details. Her friends moped around until her voice died off, standing in front of the maze’s entrance.

Finally speaking up after what felt like years of silence, Kai tugged against Evelyn’s sweater. She let out a spooked gasp and dusted off the ‘germs’ that his fingertips could possibly hold. He wasn’t offended in the slightest, simply tilting his head with a toothy grin. “Do you like spiders?” Of all the times Kai spoke, which was evidently rare when he was amongst the group, Evelyn couldn’t help but absolutely dread this moment the most. With wide eyes, she shook her head ‘no.’ That only caused his smile to lengthen. “Oh. You have one on your back.”

And with that, Evelyn was screeching at the top of her lungs. Both Sam and Thomas avoided taking on the task of swatting the spider away themselves, seeing as how they weren’t sure it was ‘poisonous.’ She would’ve asked Kai for help if she didn’t see how horrific his smile was. He was surely enjoying each and every second of this. Brat.

Ending the commotion by scooping the small creature into his palm, Carl hurriedly placed it onto the ground covered in orange and brown leaves. “There you go, little guy. You guys scared the shit out of him.”

The group all exchanged looks. None of them knew that Carl tagged along. It wasn’t exactly so much of a bad thing but at the same time, they knew both Thomas and his commentary together would be beyond horrific. Not only did they not know how to shut up but they also said the most out-of-pocket things that made the entire group look like a shit-show. It usually played out like this; One of them would say something awful, the other would say something worse, and Evelyn would start losing her mind. She tended to stop once Violet intervened but low and behold, she wasn’t accompanying him. This meant one of the other two would have to take on the job and trust, they would not. Sam would start crying and Kai would start laughing and they’d be kicked out of the maze for disturbing the peace before they could even explain what happened. Even if that was the future laid out for them, however, they marched inside and tried to make the best of the experience.

Out of the whole group, Kai was the most excited. He loved Halloween for the sole reason of getting to see gory and/or terrifying decorations laid out for the purpose of scaring innocent bystanders. That being said, he was most definitely disappointed whenever they ventured for five minutes and still came across nothing. No fake ghost, no zombie hands sticking out of the ground, no corpse with their intestines ripped out, nothing. And when Kai got bored, everyone was sure to know about it.

He started with an elongated sigh. “I like that. I like that. I like that too. I really like that right there. I like this. You see that? I like that too. I think I should come back here one day. Just kidding. I only go to fun places. Yeah, fun. Yeah, really, really, fun places that aren't just corn…thingies. Fun.”

“Yeah, yeah, alright. I don’t think you get to scold me on what’s fun and not, mister virgin.” Thomas sneered, his sapphire eyes lightening up with excitement.

Laughing alongside him, Carl tried his hardest to fit in. “Haha! Virgins, am I right?”

“Like you aren’t one yourself.” Evelyn hissed while folding her arms to her chest, rolling her ivy-green eyes. “Mia would never let someone like you knock her up.” It was sort of pathetic and pitiful to watch Carl try to laugh that one off. It was so pitiful that Evelyn decided to lock her attacks back onto the one who truly deserved it. “And you aren’t any better than him. You think you are, but you aren’t. The only reason I think anyone would get involved with the likes of you is the money your daddy brings in every day. You don’t have many other qualities other than that. You’re crude, you fall short appearance-wise, and your intelligence is the equivalent of a rock, so unless they’re seeing that paycheck, I wouldn’t see why else someone would ever sleep with you.”

Silence. Unbearable silence.

Thomas scoffed and shoved his hands in his coat pockets, his smile unfaltering despite her daggered words. “You can just say you’re a lesbian next time. Jeez. Anyway, I never said there were gonna be decorations. I just said ‘corn maze’ and you guys were up for it. Well…actually, I don’t know why you’re here, Evelyn.”

“Because Violet says it's good for me to get some fresh air every now and then. I wanted to take her advice.” Evelyn stuck her nose in the air and continually stormed down the dirt path, wanting nothing more than to leave now that she was in a sour mood. “Plus, someone had to watch you guys. Especially with Kai.”

Everyone spared a glance at Kai, who was totally tuned out of the conversation now that he wasn’t involved with it. His gold eyes gleamed toward the evening sky, watching as the sun gradually went lower and lower as time moved mercilessly forward. Evelyn’s point was proven even further once the boy decided it would be a good idea to slide into the corn stalk and break the rules of the maze. If he did that often enough, he would be off the map totally. Sam hurriedly yanked him backward and onto the trail, his fingers shaking nervously around his arm. Kai thought it was pretty cute to see a boy tremble like that.

“Kai, p-pluh…please don’t wander off like that!” Sam sputtered as he quickly retrieved his hand from around the feline-like boy’s body, absolutely petrified for his safety when seeing the glint in those gold irises.

“You scared?” Kai snickered, peering behind his shoulder. “Mmh. Looks like they want you to watch me.”

“Wh-...What?”

Pointing behind his figure, the ebony-haired boy giggled childishly again. When Sam turned around to see what he was referring to, he found that the group had already left them. He gasped and rushed over to their original position, his heart rattling in his chest like a snake. Thomas must have distracted Evelyn enough to get her to keep walking without checking if the two were following, leaving them stranded in the middle of nowhere with no map. Tears trickled down his cheeks as he thought of the endless possibilities that could occur now that they were alone together. Kai could almost smell his adrenaline.

“Are you gonna tell Riley when we go home?” Kai innocently asked, knowing damn well that he intended to gas him up enough to get Thomas in trouble. “I think we should.”

“Kai, we’re st-st…! Stranded!” Sam cried, suddenly latching himself onto the boy like a leech. He was taken aback by the sudden motion. “I just wan…na go h-h-h-home!”

Again, Kai was faced with the task of comforting someone. He gave him a few pats on the back and inched closer to him, his voice in a threatening tone rather than a consoling one. “I’ll get us out. Stop crying.” He couldn’t help it. The frustration of being unable to comfort him surfaced in his words.

Surprisingly enough, it seemed to work. Sam wiped away his tears and clenched onto Kai’s patched up jacket, trying to calm himself down the best he could without his girlfriend to help. Instead of shaking him off or pulling away, Kai simply thought of the boy as a lost puppy and continued on his merry way.

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Carl Mason.

“Dude, are we just gonna let her run off like that?” Carl questioned. He subconsciously picked at his scabs underneath his sleeves while his eyes darted back and forth around his surroundings, finding himself going further and further into darkness. His remaining companion, Thomas, continued to march forward as if they hadn’t lost three members of their group in the horrendous series of twists and turns.

The conflict arose between the two whenever Thomas flat out told Evelyn that he thought her girlfriend was a whore. It was supposed to be somewhat of a joke but that didn’t seem to go over well with Evelyn herself. She slapped him across the face and stormed off into the foggy evening, leaving the two together with the map and keys to the car. It was a pretty dumb move altogether. Carl wouldn’t have enough guts to stand up to a guy like Thomas. He would’ve swallowed those insults down with a weak smile. Coward. He hated how much of a coward he was.

Answering his previous question, Thomas chuckled. “Yeah, she can freeze her ass off for all I care. It’s not like any of them have my car k…” His voice drifted into the abyss as he tapped his coat pocket. Carl’s stomach twisted into knots as he saw Thomas start to pat himself down, even investigating on the ground to see if he had dropped it. He had lost the keys.

“…Shit, dude. Shit!” Carl searched the muddy surface beneath his shoes in hopes of finding an easy fix to their situation, only to come up short. The keys were nowhere to be found. “Fuck! How did you fucking drop them?!”

Thomas’s pleasant face was unmoved. Somehow, he still looked just as attractive as he was before whenever he was anxious. “It’ll be fine, man. Just look over there and I’ll look over here. One of us will be able to find them. They haven’t been missing for long.”

And with that, the two were separated. Carl was unsure how that came to be, considering he only turned his back for a few minutes before returning to their original location, but figured that Thomas must’ve been pulling a prank on him. This is one of the many reasons why he scolded himself whenever he sucked up to a guy like that. Thomas always left him in the dirt because he knew that he’d spit it all back out and beg on his knees for attention again. It was stupid. He was stupid.

That wasn’t the main problem here. What he was really worried about was the fact that he had no way to contact anyone or get out of here. He could go back the way they came before, but he knew there would be a certain extent of land that he wouldn’t be able to remember. In other words, he was totally screwed. His body shivered as he tried his hardest to keep warm with the purple jacket resting on his shoulders, gazing up at the sky that dimmed with every passing second. Eventually, he would be left in the dark. He couldn’t let it get that bad.

“Thomas? Evelyn?” He called, having no other choice than to retrace his steps. “Sam? Kai? Dude, come on! Where the hell are you guys?! Everyone knows it’s stupid to get lost in a corn maze! Everyone knows it’s flat out dumb!”

No reply. Carl’s ginger curls dusted his nose as it blew in the wind, tangling into wild knots that he would be forced to brush out later. In a spur of desperation, he slid through the corn stalks to locate another path. In other words, he broke the rules.

Shortly after arriving on the dirt trail, he heard the sound of faint rustling. His eyes lit up in joy when believing it could be one of his friends finally stumbling onto his path. “Is that you, Thomas? Dude, stop playing around and come out!”

The rustling ceased. Carl found himself in an open patch of the maze, the corn stalks circling it as if to signify something of importance. The hood on his head flew to his shoulders when examining the environment. Heat built up on the back of his neck.

Once his gut feeling hit, he booked it back in the direction he came from, calling himself a coward with every step he took. There was nothing astray. He was just being paranoid. At least, that’s what he thought until he heard it.

Echoing throughout the evening, the ear-aching sound of a chainsaw reared up repeatedly. Carl spared one glance behind himself to see who was responsible for such a sudden change of atmosphere, seeing a masked figure in the shadows.

“HOLY SHIT!” Carl screeched, bolting as fast as his feet could carry him. “FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!”

As all slashers do, his pursuer followed close behind. Carl continually broke the rules by cutting across the corn and tearing down stalks on the way, only angering the murderous person more it seemed. The chainsaw roared again as they took a break from chasing, knowing all too well that their victim wouldn’t be able to outrun them for much longer. They would be proven painfully correct by the time they started up again.

Carl fell to his knees and scurried into the brush, covering his mouth and nose while trying to regain the breath that escaped his lungs. He could hear the weapon from afar, scratching and picking at his sleeves when trying to calm himself down. It got to the point he tore open an old scab and made himself start profusely bleeding everywhere, throwing his composure off the roofs.

“Goddamnit,” he spat while holding his sleeve closely to the aged self-harm wound. He winced whenever he placed pressure on it, trying to prevent any further damage. It was far too late for any of that.

“Come on out, little bitch.” The feminine voice sneered, inching closer with every passing moment. Carl nearly passed out from the amount of fear built up inside him. “Let me fuck you with my chainsaw, hahah! I’ll be gentle, promise.”

Carl had a sudden spark of arousal swirl in his stomach. It was wrong. He knew it was wrong and yet he couldn’t help but feel inclined to give in like the coward he was. Even with the thought buried in the back of his mind, he still managed to keep his wits a little longer and continue hiding. The voice called for him again.

“I’ll give you three seconds to come out, cutie.”

That was his cue to surrender. Before she even started counting, he crawled out on his knees and his head lowered to the ground, hoping he could be cut some slack for at least obeying her orders. Whenever he locked eyes with her, however, he knew all too well why that voice sounded so familiar.

“Mia?” Carl gasped, his heart pounding harder than ever before. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing, dumbass.” Mia scoffed, lifting him up by grabbing the back of his jacket with one hand. “We shut down the corn maze this weekend. Thomas thought it would be funny if we gave you guys one last scare before Halloween was completely over. Look, babe. It’s all rubber.” She gripped the ‘blade’ and showed its flexibility with a proud smile. “And now I know you’ll just give up if a serial killer was really chasing you. Thanks for the reassurance.”

A lie formed on the tip of his tongue and left the chamber in an instant. “I only came out ‘cause I heard it was you, haha…”

“Uh-huh. Is that why you scratched at your arms so hard they’re basically falling off?” Mia sighed in disappointment, spotting the blood dripping off his bony fingers. He pulled away in shame. “I told you to quit doing that, mi amor. Come on. Let’s get back to the car and fix you up.”

Carl blushed heavily when Mia sunk her fingers deep within his ginger curls and shook his head around playfully as she always did. Her hands were calloused from working on cars all day, her nails worn down and stained up from oil. It was stupidly hot.

“Are you actually gonna fuck me with the chainsaw now?” Carl remarked with a sly smile, leaning into her embrace sloppily so she would hold his weight up.

“Carl, you’re a freak.” Mia playfully shoved him away, regaining her personal space. “Doggy or missionary?”

They both laughed hysterically and disappeared in the foggy direction of the exit.

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Evelyn Anderson.

In a mixture of rage and anxiety, Evelyn decided to cool herself off by taking off her coat and letting the October air do the work. Her face was so hot it felt like she was going to blow. Thomas had no right to speak of her girlfriend that way, especially since he couldn’t hold one herself.

His voice rang through her mind like a church bell, hitting every sore spot violently. “Women aren’t smart enough to be doctors, y’know? I think Violet just wants to be one so she could wear a sexy nurse outfit all the time and-” He went on from there but it was so perverted that she couldn’t bear to repeat the lines in her head again. Instead, she continued to try and calm down by taking deep breaths. Violet always told her that was the best way to deal with her breakdowns. Deep breaths and positive thoughts.

Positive thoughts. There wasn’t much to choose from considering the situation she was in. Groaning and retying her ponytail for the fourth time in a minute, she tried her hardest to perfect it. Perfecting something always felt better even if she knew it was an obsessive compulsion.

Too crooked. Too short. Too long. Her hair shifted repeatedly as she redid it, eventually causing her anger to shift into utter chaos. Her shoes were too dirty. Her clothes were too wrinkled. Her skin was filthy. Thought after thought caused her hands to tremble. She couldn’t take it anymore. If she didn’t leave the corn maze right then and there, she was going to do something she’d regret.

Storming off with a squeaky whine, she tried her hardest not to yank out all of her gorgeous hair. But she couldn’t stop touching it. She twirled it around her fingers, perfected any tangle, even combing it out with her nails. Perfect it. She had to perfect it or she’d rip all her skin off and start again.

“Hate it,” she muttered while trying to locate where she was. “I hate it. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it, I ha-!”

“Boo!”

Evelyn screamed on the top of her lungs, prepared to see a horrific monster prepared to mutilate and ruin her in seconds. Instead, she saw her beautiful girlfriend in the place of it. Her heart rate slowed dramatically as she let out a soft whine.

“Bloody hell, Violet. You scared me half to death…”

“Haha! That’s the point of Halloween!” Violet hummed, flaunting her syringe with bright pink liquid. Evelyn was quite used to the sight of her with medical syringes but wasn’t familiar with the outfit she wore now. It was a cute nurse outfit. Not a sexy one. With one thought forming after another, Evelyn finally understood what this meant.

With a giggle, she managed to forget all about her hair. “Haha…! You wished to scare me! That’s why you insisted I came here! Violet, you sneak!” She hugged her tightly, her smile shimmering like sunlight. Violet practically melted in her arms with a warm expression. She smelled like vanilla. “Aren’t you cold in that? Here, borrow my jacket.”

Violet’s eyes widened for a long while as she felt the sensation of Evelyn’s coat being placed on her shoulders. If there was one thing she learned about her girlfriend, it was that she didn’t particularly like to share. Not because she was selfish but because she feared that germs would easily spread by doing so. In this case, she trusted Violet enough not to infect her with twenty different diseases at once. And that alone made her feel as if she was on top of the world.

“Thank you.” She bubbled in the endearing moment, unable to comprehend how very special it was. “I was supposed to scare you a whole lot more but…I saw you were upset. Why?”

Her smile faded from the question. “I’ll give you one guess.”

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Sam Vega.

Cold. All Sam could focus on was how cold he felt. He tried to explain this to Kai as he marched on through the wet stalks of corn without reason or care, knowing that the fact they were both drenched was the explanation as to why he felt this decrease of body temperature. Kai didn’t like that too much. And that’s how Sam found himself completely alone and soaking wet, knowing that Kai just got him more lost than anything.

Tears were his first, second, and last resort. There was nothing much else to do than walk around and hope to find something even remotely familiar. That was pretty hard to do after marching forward in no certain direction. Everything was becoming dark and foggier as the sun went down, leaving Sam completely stranded as he feared would happen. It was almost impossible not to cry at that point. In fact, he even began signing away his belongings’ rights off to loved ones in his head. It would go something like this; My cat belongs to Riley. My money belongs to Riley. My diaries belong to Riley. My clothes belong to Riley.

Listing these things off in his head, Sam found himself in a whirlpool of destruction. He began planning his funeral, his final letter, his last words, everything. Up until, well, he was interrupted by the sound of footsteps.

The world had entirely stopped at that moment. Turning his head gradually with his entire body vibrating, his breaths became sharp and shallow.

“H-H-…H-…” His words thinned every time he tried to bulk them up, his speech impediment becoming sickeningly worse due to his terror. “HELP ME! I’M GONNA DIEEEE!”

Before he could run, the assailant got a hold of him, making him squeal like a helpless piglet. They eventually fell to the ground despite the blow not being that forceful. It was only then that he realized who it was.

“Th-Thomas? Thomas!” Sam cried, shoving him off and watching as his face plummeted to the ground. Red liquid smeared on his hands from the touch, suddenly putting together that he was injured. His expensive coat was bloodied and muddy. “Wha…t ha-ha-ha-?”

Interrupting Sam’s stutter fit, he answered the question in a strained breath. “She’s coming…” He groaned, gripping onto his bleeding stomach. Blood spewed from his lips as he shivered from the breeze. “She got ev-everyone else…you gotta find the car keys and get help…!”

Tears rapidly fell from his face, his hand covering his mouth instinctively from trepidation. All he could do was watch as Thomas sputtered and gasped for oxygen, growing colder and colder. Sam choked on emotion.

“I-I can’t luh…luh…I can’t luh…I can’t leave you here! Come on! Get u-uh…p. Up!” Sam tugged on his limp body, the liquid from his eyes soaking into the fabric of his jacket. “Please get up. D-Don’t leave me by m…myself.”

“…Fuck you.” Thomas spat while flipping him off, laying his head on the ground entirely to signify his defeat. That’s when he noticed that the blood strongly smelled like strawberries. In other words, Thomas was faking all of it.

Jumping to his feet and kicking dirt into that asshole’s face, he let out a pathetic whimper and continued on his way. Thomas was still spitting out mud by the time he had completely disappeared into the misty atmosphere.

Sam subconsciously made himself as small as possible by scrunching up his arms toward his chest, his heart racing as he scanned the path for any sign of metallic keys. He tried to remember what they looked like to the best of his ability but all he could recall was the dumb beach boob keychain attached to it. If anything, he’d surely spot it if his eyes laid on that image again. He shuddered from the thought of it.

“Boobs,” he thought without realizing just how awful it sounded inside. “Boobs, boobs, boobs, boobs. Just look for the boobs. What kind of sicko makes a boob keychain anyway? And what sicko actually puts it on his car keys?! Besides, everyone should know smaller boobs are cuter than big ones.” His thoughts spiraled out of the contained circle it was once in, thinking of a certain someone when forming an opinion on the matter. He blushed heavily. “Way hotter.”

By the time he snapped back into reality, he had already been traveling for a couple minutes. The skyline grew darker and the stars sparkled above him, signifying he only had a little bit of time left before he wouldn’t be able to see anything at all. He could only hope that the others were alright - He shouldn’t have left their side in the first place.

“What if they already found the keys and left without me? What if they left me here on purpose? I should’ve known this was too good to be true. No one invites me to anything unless they get something in return.” Sam wiped the tears brewing in his eyes with his sleeve, praying that these thoughts were just him overthinking. But it was addictive to listen to. “Thomas probably wanted me gone so he could have Riley all to himself. I wouldn’t blame her if she took him up on it. I’m a fucking loser.”

Leaves crunched underneath his weight. When he lifted his foot to take another step forward, he heard leaves crinkle again. And again. And again. Meanwhile, he remained in place, wondering why his mind was playing tricks on him. It hit him whenever a giggle rang throughout his head. By the time his heel shifted to see what he was faced with, a knife was raised to his throat.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you right now.”

Sam clenched his eyes shut, too afraid to lock eyes with the masked individual. “Be…be…cuh, cause, I-I-I…I…!” His stutter was a trainwreck due to the adrenaline running through his veins like an electric shock. Surprisingly enough, the murderer was nice enough to wait for him to finish. Not a lot of people did that. In fact, only one person did that. “…I have a-a guh…girlfriend that wa-wu-would miss me v…very much, sir!”

“Sir?”

Sweeping his emerald irises along the assailant’s figure, he repeated his title accordingly. “S-Sir…! Please don’t d-do this!”

The blade lowered from his neck’s flesh. “Okay, I won’t. Only ‘cause I know your girlfriend would miss you so very much that she’d kill herself without you.” She gushed, pulling the mysterious mask from her face to reveal she was none other than Riley herself. Her long ginger hair was tangled into several knots from being underneath the mask for so long, her pale skin glistening under the starlight. Sam practically fell to his knees in praise. “Baby, why’d you come out here without me in the first place? Y’know I don’t like you leaving my side.”

Sam blushed heavily. “I-I…I…won’t do it a-a…gain!”

“Again? Who knows if there will be an ‘again.’” Riley playfully pokes the tip of her blade at his tummy, knowing damn well that it turned him on more than freaked him out. “Go on,” she hinted with a mischievous grin. Sam knew all too well what she wanted. “Try to leave my side and I’ll show you what happens.”

“If y-you catch me, then what?” He asked, his hands shaking within each other’s hold. His heart thumped with a different kind of thrill. “You won’t k…ill me, right?”

Riley shrugged, pulling the mask back over her head. It was only then that Sam caught sight of its appearance; A typical blood-stained clown mask. Suddenly it made sense as to why she was wearing colorful polka-dots even though she hates stuff like that. He was unsure if it was fake blood sprayed across it or not, but he didn’t want to stay around long enough to find out.

“Killing you wouldn’t do any good.” She chirped like a pretty dove, her hand gripped tightly around her knife handle. “I’ll just teach you a lesson.”

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Kai Miller.

Kai had been acquainted with darkness since the time he was born. Sleeping in a pitch-black basement for years definitely improved his night vision in the sense that he could still locate everything around him without blinking an eye. It was almost like he had a feline’s vision rather than a human, all the shapes and colors being prominent but blurred at the same time.

His nose turned a light shade of pink as he tried to keep warm, unable to create an idea as to how he could find the others. He figured that he might have to sleep in the maze until morning but considering the weather, he was unsure if he would even be able to survive that. He thought that ditching Sam would benefit him overall when trying to find an exit, but lo and behold, it didn’t in the slightest. He started to regret that decision quickly.

“I can’t deal with crybabies like that.” Kai thought to himself while blowing some hot air into his hands to warm up, wearing fingerless leather gloves. “Always complaining and making things harder. There’s nothing to even cry ab-!”

The sound of a hurling object swung right past Kai’s head and into the stalks. Whatever it was took down multiple cobs of corn, lodged into the ground. When Kai peered inside the dark vegetation to see what the object was, he was met with a sudden blow to his chest. He toppled backward and onto the muddy ground.

“Caught you.”

Kai recognized that voice from anywhere. “L-Lucian?!”

Pinning him down by his wrists and peering down at the frail boy through his ghostface mask, the boy let out a raspy ring of laughter. “Come on. Struggle some more.”

Lucian would most definitely not say that. In fact, Kai could hardly believe he would hold him down by his wrists like that. He knew how much that scared him whenever Kai did it, let alone doing it himself. The ebony-haired boy wriggled within his grip while trying to decipher whether or not this was his boyfriend or not. With tattered clothes, a ghostface mask, and a bloodied axe, he wondered if maybe this was all some sort of prank. He hoped to God it was.

“Cute. I like that face.” He snickered, lifting his weapon far above his head to crack against Kai’s skull. “Let me see it better.”

Panicking, Kai shoved the boy off with every atom of strength in his body, his breaths uneven and anxious. He scrambled onto his feet and darted down the muddy trail, cutting through the green stalks of corn while trying to keep his composure. That most definitely was Lucian. He saw his pretty eyes, heard his sweet voice, and yet he couldn’t help but release adrenaline into his veins. Lucian wouldn’t hurt him. He knew better than to think that.

In mid-thought, Kai slipped on the mud and landed on his side, completely snuffing the air out of his lungs. Surprisingly enough, Lucian was right on his tail.

“Don’t run from me, kitty.” Lucian bubbled. The ghostface mask mercilessly stared at him. “I wanna see your handsome face.”

“L-Lucian…” He whispered airlessly, inching away from him as quickly as possible. Only then did he feel Lucian’s fingernails dig into his shoulders, staring down at him like some sort of higher being.

Silence. Deadly, petrifying silence.

The mask sunk into the mud once Lucian pulled it from his head, showing the smeared dark makeup he wore underneath. Even if he didn’t have a smile drawn on him, it was evident he was proud of himself.

“I scared you, didn’t I?”

“Huh?”

Lucian fell to his knees and clasped Kai’s shivering hands, laughing hoarsely again. “I scared you! I scared you, I scared you~!”

That’s what this was all about. Shaking all the negative and horrific thoughts from mind, Kai was tremendously relieved now that he knew he was safe inside his boyfriend’s arms again. For a moment or two, he could’ve sworn that it was over.

Leaning into his arms with a playful scoff, Kai rubbed his icy cheeks against Lucian’s warm chest. “You got me real good, Lu. Don’t do it ever again.”

“Awh, but why? I thought you said that Billy Loomis was hot!”

Blushing profusely from the accusation, Kai’s jaw gaped wide open. “Y-Yeah, but-!”

Lucian planted his painted lips against Kai’s chilly ones, revitalizing him with warmth he didn’t know he was missing. They went at it for a minute or two before Lucian finally backed away, happy that he had smeared all his makeup all over Kai’s freckled face. Kai had absolutely no idea it had even happened, giggling sheepishly now that they pulled away from each other.

“…You’re the best slasher there is.” Kai purred, his sudden shift in tone evident for everyone to see. Lucian simply giggled and planted another kiss on his face.

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and then everyone went home and made out the end :3

#oc: lucian williams #oc: thomas hall #oc: evelyn anderson #oc: sam vega #carl mason #halloween special 🧡#lukai 🖤🤍#caria 💜💚#eviolet 🧡💚#riam ❤️🖤

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llycaons · 11 months

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ep16 (part 1): for some reason I didn't think it could get worse

15 is one of those eps that you need to follow with 16 asap so here we go

BLOOD IN THE LOTUS PONDS. FUCKED UP

this is shit like the CR attack - lots of violent scenes fading in and out. effective as shit

WHY DID LITTLE ARCHER BOY DIE LIKE THIS!!! at LEAST give him a kill like this felt so pointless and empty from a narrative point of view. 'well sometimes in war people die randomly' I know that! but this is a story it's supposed to mean something. it was just to make this scene sadder and I for one do not appreciate that

I've seen that translated as 'my lady' in other services and I like that one better. more formality/feels more ancient fantasy setting

and this bastard idiot man walks in and IMMEDIATELY gets stabbed. myu was holding down the fort for what could have been HOURS and this fool stumbles in and just dies within 30 seconds. GOD jfm you useless man

swear jyl has some kind of gift that lets her portend when her family members are about to die

there's a lot of horrible stuff that happens in this series but honestly nothing gets me as much as this scene. the sheer. idk. simplicity of it? unlike a lot of the convoluted storylines later on, this is something so straighforward that can and has happened to so many people. their home has been taken over and their family and friends have been murdered. they're watching the bodies of their shidis and shijies being lined up by a force that came into their home and destroyed it and insulted it and defiled it and will now claim it as theirs. and it's happening right in front of their eyes. it's just something so raw and in-your-face and impossible to ignore or sugarcoat. one of the worst scenes to watch

and then THIS. honestly I don't really understand the significance of the hand-holding and I don't think it added anything to the characters or story. I don't understand why so much time was spent on it. what did they love each other after all? deep down? I don't really believe 'deep down' matters after what a mess their relationship was and how much it hurt their kids

a long time ago I read a meta post about how jc hearing his mom publicly mocked for caring about someone who didn't care for her back is one of the reasons he's so fucked up about expressing affection to wwx and why he takes wwx leaving so hard. his mom is dead and humiliated on the floor, her corpse desecrated. I don't think he ever got over this

and wwx too obviously. just horrific trauma happening before our eyes

going to say something controversial but I think xz is a better ugly crier than wcz. wcz is really good but more looks scared in most of his crying scenes, but xz just lets his face crumple with the force of his grief

WITH THE CURTAINS??!!! GIRl

damn...conquest is fucked up huh

gorgeous shot 10/10 no wonder its always giffed

I guess jfm had something he wanted to say before dying but idc.

jc would be so dead without wwx...

DID HE SLAP WWX. HOLY SHIT. after that scene with his mom and wlj and that line about servants knowing their place that REALLY sends a message. god damn, I'm really mad at him for that

this strangulation scene went on for a terrifyingly long time. wwx had to struggle to breathe when it ended. really scary to watch

I don't believe jc views wwx as A Servant but I also don't think he really views him as his equal either because his behavior towards wwx is uniquely aggressive and disrespectful. wwx may be treated as a young lord by most of the world, but he's also not in a position to fight back or hurt jc in any way, and he can't really leave the jiangs when he's being mistreated because he feels he owes them a life debt

anyway. gorgeous shot here

oh god. he's so young

I think wwx is keeping himself from crying because. he's not allowed. fuck

shit, that's a lot

#cql re-rewatch

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elliebear666 · 1 year

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It's 4 am and I woke up at 3:50 in the morning. I've been waking up every single goddamn night around 3-6 am. This is because my psychiatrist, due to Zyprexa causing constant hunger and weight gain, changed me to a different antipsychotic.

However, thanks to this change, I've lost almost 20 lbs. But the waking up every night is difficult and I'm worried it will push me into a depressive or manic episode/exacerbate personality symptoms.

So, anyway... things I've noticed after 8 years of therapy:

1. I still deal with "splitting." You're good, amazing, perfect, the best thing in my life, I want to talk to you all the time to: You're a worthless piece of shit and I hope you fucking die and rot in the heat of the sun. I hate you so much I would laugh if you died. Sometimes, these thoughts spill into my world when I just spew horrible shit from my mouth or fingertips. I have said... horrifically awful things to people when I've split on them. Tbf, these days, I'm mostly splitting on favorite persons or family and it is usually less often.

2. I still occasionally have explosive anger/rage outbursts, almost get into physical fights, get tunnel vision over internet fights, have difficulty controlling my anger. It is not nearly as bad as before, though. I used to constantly blow up, and the people in my life told me they felt like they were always "walking on eggshells." Which makes me feel incredibly ashamed and guilty… I've had anger and rage problems since I was little.

3. My relationships are still stormy and intense, and either involve me becoming initially completely and utterly infatuated or obsessed and "falling in love" at the drop of a hat, or eventually becoming obsessed. Not in every potential relationship, but the vast majority. I get jealous and insecure and constantly fear abandonment, which can lead me to seeking reassurance and validation that I'm valued in the relationship. Which, apparently, is difficult to deal with. At least my jealousy isn't as bad as it used to be. It used to be… BAD BAD. It caused me to act in very possessive ways that were detrimental to the relationship and hurt my partners.

4. I still have paranoia and paranoid ideations when particularly stressed, and sometimes just in general. Something happens in my life and my brain automatically looks for patterns of why this "isn't a coincidence." It's led me down some dark rabbit holes. A few years ago I spent months looking for cameras in my room because I was so stressed out by a flying monkey situation and wondered if they had put cameras in my room lmao

5. I still dissociate. It isn't as severe as it used to be. I used to like… spend days not even there. I'd just wear a placid and empty expression as I swam in utter nothingness. I'd watch myself from afar, feeling like I was living life from behind a thick, foggy glass window. I felt like I wasn't real, I felt like nothing was real, and wondered many times if I was just asleep and when I'd wake up. Due to dissociation and just generally not being present most of the time - not even related to dissociation - I haven't made a lot memories… which can make me feel like I have no history, that my life is this strange sequence of events that I only partially partake in.

6. I still feel empty. It isn't NEARLY as bad as before. Like… my god, I used to do anything and everything I could to fill the emptiness. Sex, drugs, impulsive road trips, hurting myself, alcohol, buying things, binge eating and then feeling ashamed and purging. I would get into relationships and situationships just to assuage this crippling emptiness whose existence stifled most of the joy or passion in my life. I felt like a hollow shell of a human being and, at one point, toldy therapist that I felt like, if I took a knife to my wrists and cut myself open, there would he nothing beneath my skin. Just an agonizing, echoing emptiness. I had to do SOMETHING, ANYTHING to distract myself from how utterly and completely hollow I felt on the inside. It was just… my god. I cannot express the amount of suffering I experienced due to constantly feeling empty…

7. My impulsivity is vastly reduced. I used to like… all the time anything went wrong, or I felt too empty, or bored, hurt, angry, etc. do something incredibly impulsive to soothe those intense emotions. Whether that was buying things I shouldn't have, binge eating, drinking alcohol and using drugs, having sex with a bunch of different partners, or jumping into relationships. It was all very self destructive.

8. My sense of self used to be borderline nonexistent. I didn't know who I was or what I wanted out of life. I changed my opinions and goals and likes often as I relentlessly chased something resembling stability. I felt like I became the people I was around - my mom used to comment, in a worried way, that it was like I, in a way "became my partners." She said it was upsetting and scary. I was an empty chameleon, desperately trying to find love and acceptance. I would reinvent myself every once in a while, though not to the extreme, usually in the form of changing how I would dress or act. Now, I feel like I have a more concrete sense of self. It isn't constantly shifting, even though I still feel directionless and don't know what I want out of life or, in some ways, who I am. Like… I wonder sometimes if the personality I'm projecting is even me or just another persona that I'm wearing. I'd like to think that I'm me now, but sometimes I wonder….

9. Self harm and suicidal ideations and threats… golly gee willikers. I used to hurt the shit out of myself. I'd cut myself, burn myself, punch myself, hit my face and body. Even while I was working, I'd cut myself in the bathroom… I threatened countless times to end my life over… oftentimes situations that didn't warrant such a reaction. Then, after most breakups, I would become extremely suicidal, thinking I was an evil piece of shit that deserved to be "abandoned" or I would feel that I had been mistreated and would react with rage. Most of the time, I would default to self harm and suicide attempts/ideation even if I was initially angry. I got locked up a few times after the breakup that happened a few years ago. Got put in the back of a police car once and brought to the mental ward and had my family threaten me with lock up… god, idk how many times lmao. I've been hurting myself, in one way or another, since I was a teen. These days, I'm not hurting myself much. I burned myself about 6 or 7 times after a guy rejected me, and fell into a deep depression, planned my suicide, would drink constantlying, etc. But I haven't harmed myself in months :)

10. Intense emotional swings. So… I have always been a very intense and emotional person. Since I was little, I felt like, sometimes, the emotions inside my little body were too big for such a small vessel. As I aged, my mood became increasingly erratic and unstable. It got VERY bad while I was working. I would feel one intense emotion over some trigger, and would experience a prolonged episode after the fact. It would feel like… if I was angry at a situation, I would be infuriated, homicidal, shaking with rage. And then I would shift to elated joy and euphoria that felt like I was having a manic episode. From there, I would go anywhere. Sometimes into a deep and dark despair, to feeling like I was agonizingly alone and rejected or abandoned. I feel like… I just was always in pain tbh. About one thing or another. I feel like I was horribly sensitive to the world around me and every little thing would elicit an extreme reaction. So, before I got diagnosed bipolar, I told my old psychiatrist that I was experiencing what I believed to be "rapid cycling bipolar symptoms." However, bipolar doesn't cause extreme emotional responses to everything all day. I could go to work feeling on top of the world, then go from that to despair, anger, infatuation, insecurity, or any of a plethora of emotions, and each one was just… a huge wave of feelings. It became absolutely and completely exhausting. I was exhausted by my changes in mood. These days, I'm not reacting as extremely as I was to every little thing. I'm not always in as much pain, I'm not constantly shifting emotional states and moods. I feel like I've found, in some ways - as long as literally nothing goes wrong lmao - a sense of stability. I'm still intense, but my reactions are not as severe as they used to be and my moods are not CONSTANTLY reacting to every little thing in my life.

11. Abandonment. I touched on this to an extent… but this will go into it in more depth. So… I have had a fear of abandonment and being left alone since I was little, but it was mostly about my mom. As a teen, and as I developed bonds with friends, I began to worry about being left by my friends. As I got older and became more interested in relationships, despite having issues with dysphoria and sex and intimacy, that fear of abandonment and rejection sensitivity became overwhelming. In any rejection scenario, I have frantically and pathetically tried to prevent what I perceived as "abandonment." I would develop these very intense and all consuming bonds with people and often come to believe that the relationship was closer and more intimate than it really was. In relationships, I would hurt myself or sometimes say I might hurt myself when faced with abandonment. Not an idle threat, but a real and true possibility and, often times, an eventual reality. It's been bad throughout my adult life, specifically, but it was horrendous with the girl I dated a few years ago. I was jealous, insecure, possessive, and constantly feared that she would abandon me. However, my unstable disposition, my anger outbursts, jealousy and insecurity served only to drive her away. As the relationship was coming to an end, I became increasingly erratic and frantic as I tried to convince her I was worth it. I begged, I stalked her in an attempt to her to talk to me, I sent countless texts, emails, made new phone numbers to contact her, snapchat, tumblr. I harassed her for months… and I feel so fucking guilty and ashamed that I have tortured myself with self-harm and physical and emotional self-flagellation. I went to insanely extreme lengths to prevent this abandonment. I pretended I ran out of gas on a road trip, I can't even remember everything I did. It was absolutely fucking crazy and toxic and scary and bizarre. I tried to kill myself in this one incident and desperately called her friend crying and screaming… I'd taken a lethal dose of psych meds and… my god I just… I feel so fucking ashamed. I hated myself. I wanted to kill myself over this unhinged behavior. I'm sorry… I truly, truly am sorry. I wish I could take it all back… but fucking can't. I'm sorry. I didn't… I don't think I really realized how bad things were getting. I didn't realize what the effects of my undiagnosed BPD was going to do to anyone. I couldn't even think past my own pain and suffering and extreme emotional problems and issues with self-regulation. These days, it's still a issue. It isn't NEARLY as severe. It's bad but… not AS bad. I still get frantic when I fear I'm being abandoned, I might beg and plead, I will act out impulsively in some misguided attempt to keep them close. But more often than not, this serves to push others away, not keep them close. It definitely has not gone to the extreme lengths of the past. I hope it never does again. I will make sure I don't get that bad again.

So… at this point, I feel like I'm so much better than I used to be. But like, things aren't perfect. And I worry sometimes I will continue to have these issues for many years to come. I'm not sure what to do about dismantling every maladaptive pattern and dealing with extreme reactions to life events, fears of abandonment, emptiness, anger and rage.

I want to be better, entirely. But sometimes I wonder if better is more a state of mind than an actual state of existence.

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lindsaywesker · 2 years

Text

Good morning! I hope you slept well and feel rested? Currently sitting at my desk, in my study, attired only in my blue towelling robe, enjoying my first cuppa of the day. Welcome to the working week although, for those of you in the NHS, welcome to just another day!

Another wild and varied weekend! I just love how every weekend is different! Different locations, different people, different conversations.

How about that weather on Friday? Thankfully, we managed to get the lessons moved from campus to Zoom, so I didn’t have to leave my study. All the windows were open in my house, there was fresh air circulating and I was never far from my trusty kettle. The Mighty Josiah arrived soon after 5.00 and, after a week of running around in his playground, he had really caught the sun!

Thank you to everyone that listened to ‘The A-Z Of Mi-Soul Music’. My two-hour tribute to Marvin Gaye elicited a lot of response. If a high-profile male music artist decided to date and then have babies with a 16-year-old, social media would probably destroy his career but, before the internet, people could discreetly do whatever they wanted. When it comes to the behaviour of certain beloved artists, people tend to look the other way.

Had a good time at The White Lion on Saturday. Lovely to finally meet Marion Headman, who’s been an active listener to my radio show for quite a while. She had a busy Sunday, so she could only stay for a few minutes. So, we took a selfie and she left but – jeez – talk about a baby face! Marion looks about early-thirties but arrived at The White Lion with a grown-up daughter! Black really don’t crack!

Naturally, Josiah has two grandfathers. The other one is a cool guy called Wayne, part of lovely family up in Luton. On Sunday, I found myself at JRC Global Buffet in Watford, celebrating Wayne’s birthday and father’s day. Obviously, families love these multi-cuisine buffets because: a) they can stuff their faces, and b) no one has to make a decision about what to eat. As usual, I ended-up with a plate piled high with about 14 different flavours! It’s called JRC Global because, by the end of the meal, your belly is the size of a small planet!

I don’t get emotional about father’s day because, every time I go and see Lady Wesker, she tells me another horrific story about my dad. Like millions of women, my mother was promised a certain kind of life by my father and, for a while, from a distance, it probably looked idyllic. When couples break up, people always express surprise. “They seemed so happy!” people will say. What do we know? We know nothing! No one knows what happens behind closed doors. Many people sat glued to the Johnny and Amber case, and what did we discover? Some pretty weird domestic behaviour!

So, last week’s flight to Rwanda ended-up having all its passengers removed. The European Court Of Human Rights mobilised and shut that shit down! At present, the UK is one of the member states of The European Court Of Human Rights. So, what is the UK government planning to do? They are planning to LEAVE the European Court Of Human Rights! What will that mean? The Rwanda deportation flights can take off and we will ALL lose the protection of the ECHR. Every week, this government finds a new way to damage the quality of my life.

If you’re going through some stuff at the moment, I send you a virtual hug of friendship; we’ve all been there. If you’re feeling low at the moment, I hope you get some good news to kill those blues. Have a marvellous and momentous Monday. I love you all.

#mixcloud #mi soul #dj #music #lockdown #new blog #coronavirus #books #weekend #democracy #brexit #cronyism #election

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sunkendreams · 2 years

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Hello. This is my first time making a request on Tumblr, I hope not to do anything stupid. I am French and my English is not good...(very sorry) I love your blog and love (big love) your writingIf you accept, I would like Vincent x afab!reader (nsfw). Thanks and sorry again for my bad english...

𑁍 ━┈┈ “𝙈𝙀𝙇𝙏 𝙁𝙊𝙍 𝙔𝙊𝙐.”

┊ 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭.

┊ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒) ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — 𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐱 𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐛!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫.

┊ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓/𝟏𝟖+! 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞/𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐝!𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐯𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐱/𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐛𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐨.

┊ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — 𝟑,𝟕𝟐𝟕.

┊ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭, 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝! 𝐧𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲! 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐫/𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡! 𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲’𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲! ❤️

You’ve never seen Vincent so angry before, so laced with a vehement rage that it rattles his entire physique. You couldn’t talk him down, either — he was poised in the doorway, stance akin to that of a coiled predator, like a lion ready to strike. Bo isn’t making anything better as the two exchange harsh words, with Vincent’s hands moving in a flurry to sign expletives and volatile insults. It’s brother stuff, you think, and then Vincent punches Bo in the face.

“Vincent!” You know you shouldn’t get involved, but you immediately rush to keep him from swinging at his brother again, and as soon as your hands are poised against his arm, he stops, recoiling instantaneously. He feels guilty for you having to see him act this way, but he’s also viciously territorial when it comes to you.

Bo happened to stare for too long, and it upset his possessive twin, who refused to heed your advice of letting it go. He was both entitled and insecure, and some sliver of him was often convinced that you’d abandon him for his brother — the charming one, the one whose face wasn’t marred by horrific scars. Vincent hated how he looked, but he wasn’t about to let Bo look at what was his.

Bo’s countenance was drawn up into some foul frown, sneering at Vincent in an attempt to provoke him, but admittedly, he was feeling guilty about it all. He hated fighting with his brother, but sometimes, he deserved it. “Fuckin’ freak.” He spat, dragging his hand across the corner of his mouth, tasting the twang of copper. “Got no self control.” He grumbles — the pot calling the kettle black, but he’s angry too.

Your expression is exasperated, and Vincent considers punching Bo again, but he’s too frustrated, too rageful, and so he rips away from you, hastily stomping toward his sanctuary, the basement. It hurts you to know that he’s upset, but you want to let it simmer, peering toward Bo with a disappointed stare.

“Why did you have to call him a freak?” You don’t take sides in this fight, but Bo’s venomous insult did frustrate you, knowing that it would impact Vincent, even if it was just a little bit. “He shouldn’t have punched you, but that was uncalled for. Are you alright?” You murmur, and Bo laughs — it’s a bitter sound.

“Y’really think I meant that shit?” Bo utters, shaking his head back and forth as he dabs at his mouth. It’s definitely going to leave a bruise, but he waves you off in a dismissive manner, preferring to be left alone now that the dust has settled. “I’ll be fine. You go on,” He waves again. “Get.”

With a sigh, you decide to listen to Bo, moving away from him and toward the basement, shutting the door behind you and latching it. It’s warm, and there’s a lack of music — no elegant opera swirling about. The dead silence is rather unnerving, and you wander about the basement, seeking Vincent out. You feel horrible for what transpired, hoping that he isn’t too upset.

Vincent is sitting on his bed, face in his hands, fingers angrily curled into his hair. His posture is indicative of agony and rage, shoulders quivering as he hears the gentle scuffling of your footsteps. You stand at the fringes of his tiny dwelling, lips agape and your expression conveying sympathy. He knows that he shouldn’t have punched his brother, but there was almost some feral urge to keep you away from him.

“Hey,” You whisper, meeting his one blue eye with a tender stare, eyelashes fluttering as you set one hand against the wall beside you, hoping to quell his anger. Hesitantly, you step forward, close enough to comfort, but still too far away for his liking. “Everything okay?” You want to wrap him up in your arms and console him, but you remain a polite distance away.

Vincent seems ashamed and wounded, but he’s simultaneously vengeful and possessive, a conflict of emotions that produces a toxic sensation within him. He lets out a throaty noise, tearing his gaze away from you, keeping his head lowered before he finally signs to you, ‘I’m sorry that you had to see that.’ That was the truth. He didn’t want you to see the ugly side of him, the violent, domineering side. He was struggling.

Immediately, you shake your head, and instead of remaining at a distance, you can’t help yourself, moving forward until you stand directly in front of him. “We all get angry sometimes, Vincent. You and Bo had a disagreement, that’s all.” You want to say more, but Vincent intercepts you, holding up one hand as he jumps into another string of sign language.

‘Not a disagreement, I don’t like the way he looked at you. You aren’t his, he doesn’t deserve you.’ Vincent’s signing is laced with frustration even through gestures alone, but his body language seems to supplement that feeling. He can see the exasperation in your visage, the desire to try and be the mediator, but it irritates him, makes him insecure.

You belong to him.

You aren’t Bo’s, you aren’t anyone else’s, no one else deserves you. Vincent wonders if he even deserves you now that his tempestuous streak has bubbled to the surface, but he’s covetous, he’s greedy. You are his beautiful muse, brought to him through circumstance, and he doesn’t want anybody else to look at you in a salacious way, especially his own twin.

“Vincent,” You begin, but he’s mad. He isn’t necessarily mad at you, but he’s beyond disgruntled and filled with fury at the situation. He hates just how quickly his self-esteem and self-worth plummets, like a wave breaking upon rock. “Vincent, listen to me.” You try to talk to him, try to make him see that you aren’t Bo’s. You love Vincent, you adore him, but he’s entitled, he’s rather envious of his brother’s charm.

‘No, you listen.’ Vincent’s signing is the verbal equivalent to snapping, and you tense up, especially when he tears himself off of the bed. He towers over you, black tresses framing his face, but you know he wouldn’t hurt you — it doesn’t frighten you as much as you thought it would. ‘You don’t understand. I wish that I could have his face,’ He hesitates, as if he’s revealed too much, but he presses on. ‘I wish that I wasn’t this … This monster. A fucking freak.’

It was as if your heart had shattered into a thousand pieces — you choke upon any sliver of noise, and you can tell that the rage is gone, it disappears within an instant. It’s dejection that saturates his posture, he hunches and he’s shaking. You try to touch his arm, but he wrenches away, which hurts your feelings, but you understand his current state of being. “Vincent,” You try again.

‘I don’t want you to leave me, not for him, not ever.’

There was a melancholy that seeped into his signing, and you can hear the sound he makes — it’s a broken whimper, a noise that is wrought with agony. Your heart aches for him, and you take his hands this time, whether he tries to pull away from you or not. You’re shaking your head, tears stinging your eyes as you coax him into looking at you.

“Vincent, I would never leave you.” It’s a solemn promise — you mean every word. “I don’t care what happens or what you do, what you look like. You make me feel like nobody has before.” He’s slowly becoming receptive to your words, but he struggles to believe them. “I’ve never loved anybody before, not in the way that I love you.” You’re genuine and insist, and you speak to him in a way that only a lover would, as if the two of you had been together for centuries.

Vincent can see the tears swimming in your eyes, and his chest tightens, throat becoming snug as you pour yourself into him. As much as he struggles with believing you, he comes to terms with it, he accepts your unconditional love. He never imagined that anyone would love him like this, want to be with him, especially with how he was, maimed and ugly.

Trembling hands untwist themselves from yours, lifting to cup your cheeks, digits stained in dried wax and smeared with inklings of charcoal, the talented hands of an artist. He handles you as if you are glass, beautiful yet fragile, and he’s aching for you — he’s melting around you like the wax that surrounds him, surrendering to your flame.

“You deserve me, Vincent. I belong to you,” You breathe, voice tinged with something deeply intimate and tremulous, careening into his embrace as your palms settle atop his big hands. “I just wish that you could see yourself in the way that I see you,” Your words are so familiar — the very same thing he said to you when he painted you. “A masterpiece.” That adoring smile is what made him crumble.

You can hear his husky noises, and Vincent falls to his knees in front of you, hands dropping to settle against your waist, his singular ocular transfixed upon your gorgeous countenance. He couldn’t imagine ever being with someone else, and you had effectively calmed the storm that swirled within him. You ensnared him with words alone, your palms reaching to hold his face instead.

It was then that he decided — he wants you to see him.

As daunting and terrifying as it sounds, he’s warmed up to the idea, and knowing that your devotion is absolute, Vincent finally feels ready. There are no words exchanged or spoken as he takes your hands within his, settling your fingers along the edges of his mask, easing them underneath. The look in your eyes is incredulous, uncertain — you don’t move.

It’s exhilarating and it’s terrifying, and your heart is hammering so hard that it feels close to ripping into two. You’re afraid to take it off, mostly out of anxiousness that he’ll become upset or have regrets. There is a certainty in his movements, but you let your fingers tense around the mask, two of your fingers brushing around the scars upon the right side of his face.

“Please.”

Vincent’s voice shocks you to your core — it’s husky and throaty, like a heavy rasp. You shudder, lips falling apart as the gravity of the moment begins to set in completely. It’s the first time he’s verbally communicated in such a long time, and it’s incredibly rare, unlikely to happen again, but he needs you to see him, needs you to understand just how much he wants you, how much he loves you.

Without a single utterance, you gently pry the mask off of his face, able to hear his stuttered, heavy breathing. Your eyes are impossibly wide and doe-like, stomach churning with anticipation as you glimpse upon Vincent’s countenance for the very first time.

He’s perfect.

Vincent is everything you’ve pictured him to be and so much more. You knew he was perfect before, you knew that he was pretty, but he’s beyond your wildest dreams. The right side of his face is a mottled, sunken in due to some of it being missing, a livid tangle of scars on top of scars, scar tissue warped and molded together like a web. You don’t mind it in the slightest — he’s handsome.

The untouched half of his face bears a striking resemblance to Bo, more than you initially thought. His skin isn’t sunkissed or leathery like Bo’s, and there’s almost a touch of youthfulness present, as if he and Bo weren’t exactly the same age. That tangle of dark hair frames his face, pushed out of his line of sight. His singular blue eye is searching your face for disgust, only to find absolutely nothing — just wonder and amazement.

“Vincent,” With honeyed words, you gently place the mask aside, and without hesitance, you cradle his face within your hands. The soft caress of your palm to his scars nearly makes him double over — it’s everything he’s ever wanted, and your lack of fear is invigorating. He’s pushing into you, watching as you stoop, foreheads pressed together. “You’re perfect.”

‘I love you.’ Vincent signs, and he wishes that he could say it, over and over again, but he knows that you know — your affectionate gaze screams with complete and utter devotion.

He lets out a strangled whimper, a surge of desire ripping through him. He wants you now more than he ever has before, and Vincent shamelessly keens into you, lips ghosting over yours until one of you bends first. It was as if explosions had gone off as the both of you were crashing into one another with a monumental impact, his hands slipping to grab at your hips.

Vincent moves off of the floor, now hovering over you, kneading into the supple swell of your hips, kissing you with such a feverish force that it makes your head spin in circles. Your arms circle around his neck, pinning yourself against him, flush and frictional, making your skin creep with heat. Your lips part for just a moment, a throaty, garbled purr escaping him as he nudges you around, towards his bed.

“I want to see more of you, Vincent.” Your hands peruse through his tresses, locking in a stare as you fall into the mattress, swallowing hard as a pang of excitement stings your gut. You want to explore his skin without being blindfolded, and he seems agreeable enough, hands tangling at the hem of his sweater.

He removes the garment in one graceful stroke, draping his sweater at the foot of the bed. Vincent crawls on top of you, situated between your legs, kicking his boots off somewhere in the process. You’re absolutely enthralled, hands tracing across his lean form, over the sinewy muscle and various scars and marks across his abdomen.

His hands are all over you, they’re everywhere — he’s pushing his palm underneath your blouse, unbuttoning your shorts, kissing you so hard that it knocks the wind out of you, steals the breath from your lungs. Vincent’s noises are what drive you crazy, breathy sighs of wistfulness and desperation, hand kneading into your clothed breast.

Vincent peels your shirt off, brassiere following suit, and he’s groping your breasts again, other hand pushing at your shorts as if his life depends on it. He’s making a continuous string of half-grunts, half-purrs, lips falling to your neck, showering your silky flesh in deep, greedy kisses. He’s absolutely needy, wanting to be inside you so bad, wanting to make you moan, say who you belong to.

He doesn’t feel like a freak — he feels like a man in love, a man instilled with the confidence to be everything that he can possibly be for you. There’s something tender in the way you caress along his body, as if he’s some priceless work of heart, and to you, he most certainly is. He makes you feel perfect, makes you feel complete.

Vincent fills the void left behind by a fragmented past, fills the emptiness you’ve burdened yourself with for so long.

Vincent’s attentive touch is incendiary, sending sparks flying all over your body, heat pooling between your legs, arousal beginning to peak. You don’t care about foreplay in this scenario, you just want to feel him, all of him. It’s an ache that’s blinding, an ache that only Vincent can cure, and he’s oh so desperate to relieve that longing that both of you are experiencing.

“I need you,” You whine, watching his one eye become dilated with lust, a sheen of complete possessiveness, blown out and almost black. He swallows your moan with his mouth, consuming you whole, making you know just who you belong to, who loves you most, more than anything else. “Need you so bad.” It’s a tone permeated in adoration.

You’re nearly naked underneath him, panties still clinging to your hips, and Vincent tugs those down too, letting them settle toward your knees. They’re uncomfortably stretched around your legs as you keep them spread to accommodate his stature, but you don’t care, it fades into the recesses of your mind.

Everything is blistering, it’s searing, like a fever that you can’t sweat out. The haste of it all doesn’t bother you, and you’re too busy clinging to Vincent to care, grinding your hips into his cock, hands melding into his flesh, one leg loosely hitched around his hips, which makes his chest tighten.

Vincent purrs, face nestled into yours, no mask to hinder him, no blindfold, nothing — it’s his skin buried against yours, sunken, misshapen visage and all, and you love it, you love every single facet about him. You kiss the scarred side of his face, a spur of the moment decision which makes him nearly collapse on top of you.

He’s rendered speechless, breath stolen from his lungs, and he lets out a pitiful noise, a throaty, raspy whine that will be etched into your brain for weeks to come. Vincent is genuinely astonished, careening into you, so close that there’s barely a sliver of space left between the two of you. Your lips are plush and akin to velvet as they pepper themselves into his mottled visage.

“Love you so much,” You utter, a saccharine twang to your voice, which is kept to a lower octave, a pleasant lullaby. Vincent doesn’t speak, his hands are occupied, but he loves you too — he briefly caresses your cheek before kissing you again, a bruising entanglement that conveys everything you need to know.

Before you know it, his cock is rutting into you, and he’s lost any shred of amatory roughness — it’s all replaced by passion, by an indescribable need for you. He isn’t fucking you this time, he’s making love, and there is a considerable difference in the languid rolling of his hips.

You shudder, cunt clenching around his cock, lips agape as a moan escapes you, rippling past your throat. Vincent is practically buried against you, suspended above by only a sliver with one arm, the other holding your hand. It’s deeply intimate, and seeing his face fully — the scrunch of concentration, the wave of pleasure — it’s intoxicating.

Every thrust of his hips makes you mewl, groin grinding into yours, cock rolling in and out of your soaked slit, and he doesn’t bother with pulling out completely. There’s a pleasant rhythm present, making you pant and huff, foreheads practically glued together. There’s no lack of confidence here — Vincent feels invincible, swarmed by the heat of the basement, the presence of you, your smell, your touch, everything.

The candles that burn within the basement provide some element of atmosphere, the orange glow basking the both of you in an eerie luminosity, but Vincent finds you to be flawless in this light — you’re stunning. You wear an expression of complete and utter bliss, lazily rolling your hips against his, feeling his cock batter the depths of your cunt in loving ruts.

The pad of his thumb brushes over your knuckles, your interlocked hands residing just to the side of your head, his larger hand overtaking yours. Your available palm is snug against the side of his face, drifting toward his hair as you coax him down for another heated kiss, all tongue and open mouths colliding with one another.

Your stomach feels like mush, reduced to something sloshing and turbulent as his cock buries itself deep inside of you, his pace steady yet so very passionate, driving himself into you each time as an extension of his love. Pulsations of heat rock your core as precum coats his shaft in a heady sheen.

Vincent is relentless, panting and growling, feeling your lower lip tremble, you gasping for air in between the furtive exchanges of your lips. You feel full, a satisfactory sensation that makes your leg shake, squeezing into his hips, the both of you glistening with a thin layer of perspiration.

You cum first, cunt tight around his cock, and your only words are declarations of love. Vincent doesn’t pull out, keeping himself stuffed inside of you as he ruts into you another time or two. He cums inside of you, letting out some raspy, hoarse moan that makes you quiver, and you kiss his jaw, kiss at the corner of his mouth, chest to chest with him.

By the time the two of you finish, he’s catching his breath, countenance softening as he gazes down at you as if you are the only thing left in this world. It burns right through you, and you gently caress his cheek, fingers roving over his skin, again and again. You can’t believe that this is real — it feels like a dream you’ve had, so euphoric and so perfect.

Vincent’s doubts of you leaving him have disintegrated, and instead, he’s instilled with the idea that he wants to be yours, too. That air of entitlement and possessiveness drops for a moment when he realizes such a notion. As he kisses your face, nose brushing along your cheek, he pulls himself out of you, sitting up and bringing you with him.

‘I’m yours.’ He signs, placing his hand over your thrumming heart, misshapen cheek pressed against yours.

You smile, breathtakingly beautiful, enough to make Vincent shudder as you close your eyes, draping an arm over the back of his neck. It’s the happiest you’ve been for a long time, and you’re thankful that Vincent is finally comfortable enough to truly show himself. You love him — flaws and all, rugged edges and everything in between.

“What if that means forever?” Once again, you quote him like he’s poetry, mirroring what he inquired of you before when you’d been with him.

Vincent’s lips twitch into the ghost of a smile — it’s the first time you’ve ever seen such a look on his face, and it fills your stomach with excitable butterflies. He seems to clearly recall that moment he’d spoken the very same words, and it plays out in the same manner as before, blissful and sweet.

‘Forever it is.’

#vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x you #slasher x reader #slasher x you #slasher fanfiction #slasher fanfic #vincent sinclair fanfic #house of wax fanfic #house of wax smut #house of wax 2005 #vincent sinclair #house of wax #sunkendreams masterlist

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wangxianficrecs · 2 years

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❤️flame and rust by cl410

❤️flame and rust

by cl410

M, 35k, wangxian

Summary: What was so special about Wei Ying that Jiang Cheng's parents expected him to become a guardian of Lotus Pier?

Or: Baoshan Sanren's lineage has a special talent, one that Wei Wuxian inherits. No one is quite sure what to do with a dragon, least of all Lan Wangji.

My comments: Ah, this story just grabbed me by my heart and didn't let go. Wwx is kept by the jaings SOLELY for the use he can be to them as a defense-dragon, and he's never allowed to forget it, which is horribly abusive. Jyl and jc adore him, though, and don't like how he's treated.

He gets a taste of a different life during the cloud recesses stint, when people just like him... including lqr, who figures him out right away and becomes a mentor. And lan zhan... lan zhan makes him warm and fuzzy and dumb, and lights a nascent little bond within him.

But then shit utterly hits the fan as canon progresses, and some terrible things happen, and choices are made by various people that have horrific and unintended consequences, and wwx ends up coreless in the burial mounds, struggling to survive.

There's a lot of focus on the close bond between wwx and his siblings in spite of how the jiang parents treat him. Throughout the story, he struggles to understand that he can be accepted for other reasons than his ability to fight and die, and there can be family for him - and a home - just because he is wei wuxian, and for no other reason.

I am warning you now: you will HAVE FEELINGS.

Excerpt: “We’re going to be late!” Jiang Cheng said impatiently. He put his hands on his hips and glowered threateningly up at the lanky dragon halfway up the tree. “Do you want to keep jiejie waiting? Maybe I’ll tell her you didn’t want to come!”

Wei Wuxian made a protesting noise, tipping sideways in his haste to slink to the ground. He caught himself in time, somehow, and briefly dangled upside down from the branch, frozen cautiously in place and not quite sure how he’d managed it.

There was an ominous crack. He peered at the branch, realizing too late what was about to happen, and then squawked when it broke and sent him hurtling to the ground.

He landed with a boom that shook the earth, the broken branch held safely between his front paws as he blinked dazedly at the sky. Jiang Cheng loomed over him with a deeply judgmental expression.

“That was embarrassing to watch,” he said.

shapeshifting, dragon wei wuxian, growing up, jiang siblings, child abuse (via madam yu), fluff and humor, students at cloud recesses, dragon instincts, crushes, awkward crush, lan qiren is good, lan qiren & wei wuxian, protective lan qiren, protective lan xichen, protective jiang siblings, madam yu is bad, jiang fengmian is bad, hurt wei wuxian, sick wei wuxian, angst, jiang sibling feels, protective jiang yanli, so much angst and trauma, burial mounds, BAMF wei wuxian, partial shift, loss of golden core, dragon eyes and ears, golden core reveal, baoshan sanren, burial mounds whumpage so sad, sunshot campaign with a dragon, found family, home, wei wuxian is loved, happy ending, favorite, @i-like-plan-m

(You may wish to REBLOG as a signal boost for this author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

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julietsick · 2 years

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okay so like, playing detective with rue! let’s say that your history teacher has always given you weird vibes and you tell rue about it over the phone and she starts doing some online digging through those ‘find me’ types of websites. long story short, she finds out that he’s a whole ass felon and you two decide to break into his house to see if you can find dead bodies or something like that 💀 !!!

omg i love this sm?! ur brain >>

warnings: mild swearing, fluff, clean and happy rue!!!!

"rue! we can't do that!" you whisper-shouted at her. you were at lunch, and with what she just said, your eyes were darting around cautiously, nervous that someone might've overheard rue's appalling suggestion.

"why not, yn? i mean, what's the worst than can happen? sure, maybe we'll get caught and arrested, but just live life." she said in an all-too-calm tone, your jaw looked unhinged from how much you were gaping at her.

"c'mon, ynn! let's do it! it'll be fun." she wiggled her eyebrows, the action making your lips curl into a small smile.

"fine! but let me just tell you, it won't be so fun once we get caught and arrested and ruin our lives!" you warned her with a jokingly menacing tone, making rue chuckle.

"we get caught, and i'll just say i kidnapped you, making you come with me!" she said brightly, and you had to say, you loved her like this. you didn't like rue all that much when she wasn't clean. she could get mean. but you still loved her, really.

"okay, okay! we'll do it tonight." you laughed

that's how you ended up at your teacher, mr. ronald's, home. from what rue spied, he was going on a date with this girl who was about at least a decade younger than him. like every other white man, he had his spare keys in a fake rock in his doorstep. stupid, you thought. when rue put the key in the hole and it clicked open, she smiled at you. you giggles up at her, you both were giddy with excitement.

"it's a fucking mess in here!" you whispered at rue, and she just cackled with her head thrown back.

in the entrance hallway there was a coat hanger, and out of curiosity rue checked the pockets of some coats hanging out there, and she found spare change, a packet of gum, and some floss. when she found the floss she looked at you with a confused expression, it was strange, but you shrugged it off.

you both walked to his living room and saw a crazy mess in there. his coffee table in front of his small television was filled with coffee cups, newspapers, and his television remote. it looked actually strangely normal.

"well i don't know if i expected dead bodies or something else, but this definitely wasn't it." she looked around at the room with furrowed a furrowed brow.

"wait! look! he was a bookshelf! i'm gonna check if he has any good books." you gaped at the giant bookshelf next to his tv in awe, it looked gleeful.

you found some classics there, mostly. but they were exactly what you wanted. the catcher in the rye, sense and sensibility, the odyssey and the iliad. it was horrific. you took them all, of course, not bothering to mind when he'll exactly notice they were gone. rue spotted the books in your hands and smiled, her offering to put them in her tote bag. she had taken a few things too; a guitar pick, a self-help book, and more spare change.

you went upstairs, where you spotted his room door wide open, and you and rue looked at each other smugly. you went in, investigated everything thoroughly, but came up with nothing of importance.

then, because luck was your lever, the front door opened, and you could hear mr. ronald talking on the phone with his date, you presumed.

"shit! yn, we gotta go!" rue whisper-shouted at you.

when you and rue jumped off his bedroom window, you ran to your hearts content, and your ribs hurt so much from the running, but mostly from the laughing.

#— euphoria dialogue ♡#rue!#rue bennett x reader #rue bennett fluff #rue euphoria

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zodiakuroo · 3 years

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Un(holy) Trinity

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader x Shigaraki

Content: 18+ dubcon/noncon, threesome, manhandling, rough sex, corruption, degradation, humiliation, breathplay, stepcest, breeding, blasphemy and sacrilege, elements of mindbreak and god complex (?)

Word count: 4.1k

Notes: my first threesome and idk how to feel about it but here it is! If it’s bad I can blame it on the fact that I just had my wisdom teeth extracted and am currently in a world of pain :) also i’m on bedrest and incredibly bored so if anyone has requests or thirsts or just wants to chat... yeah

also if this banner is shit i’m sorry i rushed and made it on my phone cause i just rly wanted to to post

This is part 2 to my other fic Love Thy Brother which you can read here

Now the serpent was more cunning than any beast of the field which the LORD God had made. And he said to the woman, “Has God indeed said, ‘You shall not eat of every tree of the garden’?” - Genesis 3:1

Twelve days.

Twelve days since you lost your virginity.

Twelve days since you lost your virginity to your step-brother, no less.

The night that it happened, you lay awake in your bed dreading the aftermath of the horrific incident. How could you face him again? How could you face your family? How could you face God?

You were too cowardly to face the rest of your household. The Todoroki family welcomed you into their home only for you betray them by sleeping with Touya. Ever since you were little, your mother would say she had a sort of sixth sense that meant God would always tell her when you’d been up to mischief. It sounds silly but there was no explanation for how she would always catch out in lie or know things that you never told her. You feared she would take one look at you and know the sin you committed. And so you chose to make yourself scarce, taking extra shifts at work and choosing to study at the campus library rather than at home. Your siblings seemed to notice how busy you suddenly were, often remarking how they missed you around the house. That just made you feel more ashamed.

As for God, you felt like you needed to do whatever necessary to prove your faith. You wanted Him to know the extent of your shame and remorse. You were weak in spirit, making you an easy target for someone as devious as Touya. You prayed and begged for forgiveness until your knees hurt but no matter what you did, the guilt was inescapable. You realized it was because, irrespective of the regret and remorse you felt, you couldn’t deny that you enjoyed what happened. You liked the way Dabi made you feel and you hated yourself for it. But no matter how much you liked it, something like that could never happen again. As penance, you banned yourself from bringing your hands anywhere near your groin. After all that temptation is what brought you to this point in the first place. But the thread of your self-control is thin and withered so at night when you’re certain everyone is asleep, you’re humping your pillow like an animal and biting down on your lip trying to keep from moaning his name. At least you weren’t touching right?

Dabi, by some God-given miracle, made himself scarce as well. It wasn’t uncommon for the noirette to disappear for days at a time doing heaven knows what only to arrive back at home like nothing happened; so no one really questioned his absence. Perhaps he felt the same way you did and was avoiding facing you and the other Todorokis.

Yeah right.

Shame? Todoroki Touya doesn’t know the meaning of the word.

In any case, you had become used to a Dabi-less house and so lulled into a false sense of safety, slowly but surely reverting back to normal. That’s why as you make your way downstairs, prepared to go to your church, the sound of gunfire and explosions from the living room doesn’t alarm you. Probably Natsuo or Shouto playing one of their video games, you thought. But when you get to the bottom of the stairs you’re met with unmistakable dark locks. Not just him. The back of another person’s head, one with pale blue, shoulder length hair. Before you can stop yourself, you let out a gasp. Neither of them react, seemingly too focused on their game. You don’t waste any time feeling relieved, choosing instead to make a silent escape.

You could only dream of being so lucky.

“Oi!” Your step-brother calls without turning around. He hasn’t seen you, you think. If you move quickly you can still get out of this. “I know you heard me, brat. Get over here before I drag you over here.” He still doesn’t bother to turn around but the sharpness in his tone lets you know that you’d be smart to listen. You take a second to steel your nerves and make your way over to the couch, trying your best to look as intimidating as possible. You scowl at both men but they are so engrossed in their video game, they don’t even acknowledge that you’re standing right there. “Aren’t you gonna say hi? We have company.”

We?

The company in question is Shigaraki Tomura. He’s been to the house before although he’s never even so much as glanced in your direction, too busy with his phone or playing games with Dabi. Despite your hard expression you can only manage a meek “Hello Shigaraki.”

He responds by finally looking at you, with a sleazy grin, a pair of crimson eyes, surrounded by creases meet your own. “Sup.”

Beer cans litter the coffee table, one of them being turned into a makeshift ashtray while both have smouldering cigarettes perched between their lips. “You’re not supposed to smoke in the house.”

“You’re not supposed to smoke in the house.” Dabi mocks you with a nasal voice.

You simply roll your eyes, not interested in continuing this interaction any further. “Whatever. I’m leaving now.” You state with as much firmness as you can muster. You spin on your heels but are kept in place by long, slender digits wrapped around your wrist.

“Where are you off to anyways?” The game paused, both boys now looking at you.

Out of habit, you answer truthfully. “Bible study.”

Shigaraki and Dabi burst into raucous laughter.

You should have lied.

“Nah you’re gonna hang out with me and Shigaraki for a bit.”

“Dabi, I have to leave.”

“You don’t have to do anything except what I tell you and I’m telling you to sit.”

Before you can protest you’re being hauled on to the couch, squeezed between the two of them.

“Nice necklace.” Tomura snorts, hand reaching out to grab at your crucifix but you swat it away. His gaze is unnerving. It makes you wonder if- no. He promised he wouldn’t.

Just like that, their game is resumed, as if you were never there. A few rounds pass, no words exchanged between either of them, only curses muttered under their breath. “Dabi, can I please go. I’m bored.”

Wrong choice of words.

“You hear that Tomura? The princess is bored.” His fingers are still moving rapidly over his controller.

“Really now? Come on then Todoroki, let’s show her a good time. I’ve seen how she likes to have fun.”

His comment on your necklace suddenly makes sense, but you still can’t believe it. “You didn’t…” you whip your head back to look at Dabi.

”Sorry doll, you made your Nii-san so proud, I just had to show you off.” Dabi smiles shamelessly, lighting himself another cigarette.

“You’re fucking sick Touya.” Tomura says, however his tone is not one of disgust but rather of admiration.

“You promised...” Your voice breaks. You’re humiliated beyond belief.

Both of them laugh at you again, discarding their controllers. “Told you, it’s adorable how stupid she is.” Dabi remarks to his friend, as if you’re not sitting right next to them.

You try to force your way off the couch but get pulled into Dabi’s lap, one of his arms hooking around both of yours, securing them behind your back. You squirm in his arms but he stills you with a hard slap on your inner thigh. “Be good okay? Don’t embarrass me.” He nuzzles into your neck.

Shigaraki flips up your dress exposing your white lace panties. He runs his thumb up and down your clothed slit, he fabric slowly becoming even more transparent. One severe jerk to the top of your dress and the straps are torn clean off, revealing the matching bra. “Yo, Touya. I thought she was a good girl.”

Dabi peers over your shoulder to get look. “Who’s all this for babe? You screwing the preacher or something? Or were you hoping I’d do something like this?” He tugs down your bra until your breasts are spilling over the top of it.

“Dabi…” Your choke on your plea when he sinks his teeth into your neck. He bites down so hard you’re positive he’s left a mark.

“Who?”

“T-Touya-nii.” You whimper.

“Better.”

Your destroyed dress is discarded somewhere across the room and you find yourself on your hands and knees with Shigaraki kneeling on the couch in front of you and Dabi behind you.

“Go easy on her alright Tomura. It’s her first time sucking cock.” He chuckles.

Your eyes go wide. “Wait...” you mewl but neither pay you any mind.

“And you.” Dabi yanks a fistful of your hair. “No teeth. No puke. Or I’ll let my boy ream your little ass as punishment.”

“Yeah. What he said.” Shigaraki mutters, pulling his semi out of his sweatpants, rubbing his tip against your lips. His is not as scary as your step-brother’s but him staring down at you like this, makes him seem every bit as intimidating.

Pre-cum dribbles from the swollen tip. You’re not entirely sure you want that in your mouth but you’re also not sure if you have a choice so you open up hesitantly.

Dabi’s right. It is your first time doing something like this. You don’t know what you’re supposed to do but as it turns out you don’t have to do much, not with the way Shigaraki starts thrusting his quickly hardening member into your mouth.

“Move your tongue slut.” The man in front of you grunts. You do your best despite the heavy intrusion to obey his command, moving from side to side, swirling around the head when he pulls out of your mouth. He looks down at you with cruel vermillion eyes, panting as he strokes himself in front of you, spreading your saliva across his shaft before sliding deep into your mouth again.

Behind you, Dabi spreads apart your cheeks, squeezing the flesh in his calloused hands. “Remember what I said. Be good and I’ll give you a reward.” He pulls your panties to the side and lets out a whistle at the sight of your dripping slit. “She’s enjoying it. Make her take it deeper.”

You can’t possibly fathom how much deeper he can go when his head is already nudging at your tonsils. You try to swallow the saliva building up in your mouth, making your cheeks hollow out around Shigaraki’s shaft. Seems like that was the right thing to do as his hand flies to the back of your head. “Shit. Shit. So good.”

Dabi’s breath wafts over your pussy. He spreads your lips apart and you feel his hot tongue lick up the juices leaking from your hole. You squeal around Tomura’s dick. You want to pull off but his spindly fingers hold your head in place.

“Told you angel. Good little sisters get rewards.” With that he takes your clit between his lips and suckles on it gently while one of his fingers circles your entrance. Knuckle by knuckle he slides into you, making you keen. You arch your back trying to shift your hips backwards against his hand, silently urging him to find that special spot he showed you last time. He establishes a loose rhythm. Hot wet muscle and cold metal of his piercing circles the sensitive bundle of nerves, before applying suction while his fingers work you open.

The sensation is overwhelming, a form of heavenly torture and your thighs quiver barely able to hold you up while you use your last bit of mental strength to focus on suppressing your gags. That mental strength all but evaporates when the digits inside you graze that rough patch embedded in your walls. It’s so pleasurable your reflex is to run from his fingers. Luckily for Shigaraki, that means you move forward, taking him further into your mouth.

“This where you want me? This your spot, angel?” Dabi taunts you. Shigaraki holds you in place while two of your step-brother’s fingers drill your cunt, hitting that spot over and over again. Garbled moans and cries leave your mouth and reverberate around Tomura’s cock, proving to be too much for him ultimately.

“Shit Stop!” Don’t wanna come yet.” He pulls out your mouth so that a string of your drool drips down to your breasts.

“God! Touya-nii!” You sputter out.

“Still with the God shit?” He uses your hair to force you to look at him, neck twisted at an awkward, uncomfortable angle. “God ever make you feel this good?” His fingers thrust into you harder. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire.

“Ngghh-N-no –oh! Oh!” is your incoherent answer.

Dabi forces you back down, shoving you face first into the cushions. “See? Fuck him. Give up on god. Give up on everyone except your big brother cause no one else can make you feel this good.”

You’re so pathetic. The way you’re rocking yourself in unison with the motions of his hands. The way your tongue hangs out of your mouth, impeding any sort of intelligible verbal response. The way you’re mindlessly nodding along to whatever filth is coming out of Dabi’s mouth.

“C’mon Touya. Turn her around. Wanna try out that sweet pussy you’ve been bragging about.” You’re reminded that you aren’t alone. No, your brother’s best friend is right there to witness exactly how pathetic you are.

“Yeah in a minute. I’m still having my fun.” Dabi answers, face pressed against your mons before working you with his mouth once again.

“Man! Come on!” Tomura whines.

“I said in a minute. Not my fault you can’t last.”

It’s amazing how they can bicker like this right now, as if you aren’t on your hands and knees for them, gummy walls still pulsing around his fingers. However, it’s not long before Dabi’s focus is back on you taking you to the brink of orgasm. He slows his fingers, keeping you balanced on that razor thin edge. “Should I make you cum angel?” His voice is dripping with fake concern. “Dunno… what’s in it for me?”

“Anything! Touya-nii please!”

“Anything? You gonna obey me? Do whatever I say like a good little angel? You gonna worship me?” You can’t tell if he’s being serious or if he’s mocking you.

Probably the latter. And you deserve it too.

Your faith was the thing you deemed more important than anything and anyone else but Dabi, all too easily, convinced you to disregard that. Made you lose all sense and give into lust by showing you mindblowing pleasure, only magnified by your awareness of how deeply sinful this all was. That’s the extent of the power he has over you. The story of Adam and Eve is one you know forwards and backwards and yet you were so easily tempted forbidden fruit and left completely corrupted. Yeah, he’s definitely mocking you.

“Any- fuck- anything” You’re wiggling your ass, goading Dabi into finishing you off

“Cum in my mouth. Angel, give it to me” That’s the final straw. You explode around his fingers. Despite your walls, clamping around him, he manages to piston into you, hitting that squishy spot with astounding accuracy. His unyielding stimulation makes it feel as though the high won’t end. You’re not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

Eventually, it does end though, his fingers drag out against the pull of your swollen pussy. He licks you clean making sure he gets every last drop of your cum, both inside and out, on his tongue. The ball of his piercing catches onto your rim making you yelp. He soothes the sting with gentle laps of his tongue.

“Tastes so sweet angel. So sweet knowing I’m the only one to ever fuck this pretty pussy.” He snickers before adding “So far.”

“Yeah, can I fuck her now?” Tomura was turned on before but seeing the way you fell apart at the hands of your brother? His minimal patience has run out. All he can think of now is being inside you.

“You heard him babe. Turn around.” He spanks your ass. You try to turn around but thanks to your shaky legs you nearly fall off the couch. Dabi catches you before that happens and he dutifully sets you up on all fours, held up by quivering limbs. You hear heavy breathing from behind you as Shigaraki taps his head against your puffy clit while you twitch in place.

“She wants this so bad. Had no idea your Christian little sister was such a whore.” Shigaraki mutters. He holds you still as he buries himself in you, breathing becoming more erratic with every inch until his hip bones are digging into your soft flesh. He’s so deep. You feel so full. You squeeze shut your eyelids, savouring the stretch.

Calloused fingers press into your jaw, making your eyes shoot open. “Pretty angel, did you forget about me?” Dabi looms over you, making a show of spitting in his palm and using it to stroke himself. He slips his thumb into your mouth, pad pressing down on the plush pillow of your tongue. “Gonna stuff you nice ‘n full angel.” All you can do is blink up at him with teary eyes, pupils blown wide with desire.

Shigaraki begins thrusting into you, hips moving at a brutal pace. Dabi isn’t far behind him, replacing his thumb with his cock and you don’t waste time waiting for him to tell you what to do. You close your lips around his shaft, engulfing him in the wet heat of your mouth.

Unlike his friend, Dabi starts off slow. His piercings drag across your tongue and you taste metal and the salt of his pre-cum. It takes some time for you to get used to taking him in your mouth, the jewellery an added obstacle.

You feel so full.

Shigaraki is bottoming out with every thrust, it’s so lewd the way it makes you squelch around him. Dabi’s shaft is rubbing your throat raw and still, you make an effort to take him deeper. He keeps one hand on the back of your head while he fucks you mouth.

He looks so ethereal, so euphoric, letting out little moans and whispered expletives. The sounds he makes are divine, so heavily contrasted by everything you know about him. It leaves you star struck. He recognizes the adoration in your eyes and responds in kind with a cocky smirk. He remembers how you looked at him when you first met. Disdain and judgment. Now you look at him like he’s your only salvation.

It’s sad actually. How you’re so desperate for someone to tell you how to live. And what a sweet, adoring little follower you are. Wasted on religion if you ask him. So soft and pliant, perfect for your big brother to mould and corrupt into his personal fuckangel.

“Angel, Nii-san’s gonna fill you up. And you’re gonna take it yeah?”

Your whole life you aspired to this holy standard of perfection in the hopes of escaping eternal damnation. But you’re beyond absolution now.

“All of it down your throat.”

It’s okay though.

If heaven doesn’t feel like this, you’re not sure it’s worth all the effort to get there.

He holds your necklace behind you like a leash, twisting it around his fingers. Between the way he’s basically strangling you and the way your swallowing muscles contract around his cock means that you’re not getting much air into your lungs. Your head is spinning, from being both oxygen deprived and cock drunk.

“Your God doesn’t want you anymore.” The clasp snaps and he dangles the charm in front of your face. The mould of Christ nailed to the cross taunts you. What was once a symbol of divine love and God’s boundless forgiveness and sacrifice is just a reminder of how far you’ve fallen into depravity, creaming around Shigaraki’s cock as he ruins your cunt while your Nii-san claims your throat “You’re filthy.” Touya sneers at you as he holds himself in your throat, watching you cry and choke around him. “Dirty fuckin angel.” He grunts as he floods your mouth with the taste of his cum. It’s not exactly pleasant but you try to swallow it all down. There’s just so much. That means he’s pleased with you right? You want him to be pleased. Good girls get rewards he said

“It’s okay.” He muses as he pulls out of your mouth. “You have me. I’m better than God and I Iove you when you’re nasty like this.” He empathizes his point by dragging his wet, softening cock across your face. “Nii-sans perfect little angel.”

It’s so pitiful how the small praise makes your heart bloom and makes your hole flutter.

You’re coughing up Touya’s cum while your body shakes with Shigaraki’s thrusts.

“What about me hm? I’m fucking you. What? You don’t like it?” Tomura’s going harder now, determined to get his fair share of your attention.

“Shig-Shigaraki – shit. Slow down!”

You’re ignored by both of them once again. If anything, Shigaraki starts fucking you harder

.”Yo’ dustpot. You better pull out. That hole still belongs to me.”

The warning falls on deaf ears, Tomura is too far gone. “So warm, she’s squeezin’ me. Fuck. Fuck.’’ No thoughts, just your tight cunt.

“Gonna do whatever I tell you?” Dabi’s talking to you now, cerulean eyes boring into yours.

You nod still staring at him with absolute devotion.

“Touya-nii’s will be done? Huh? Has a nice ring to it.”

When you don’t respond he grabs you by your cheeks forming an open mouthed pout. “Say it.”

“Touya-nii’shhh will be done.” The words come out distorted but he’s satisfied

“Oh yeah? Then be good angel slut and come on his cock for me.”

You’re pushed over the edge, coming for the second time. Your walls clamp down around him as you sob out both their names in the form of incoherent babbling. It hits you as hard as the first one. You’re so caught up in your high you barely register the vice grip on your hips, the frantic humping against your ass. “Tight. Fuckin tight! Gotta breed! Breed this fucking hole.”

His hot, sticky cum floods your walls with, your throbbing cunt milking him for everything he’s got. He ruts against you a couple more times before removing himself completely.

You hear the familiar click of a camera. He’s sorry (not really) but the sight of your fucked out hole leaking globs of your cream and his cum was too hot for Shigaraki to not add to his spankbank.

“Thanks for that little sis.” Dabi is resting on the couch, head thrown back smoking a cigarette.

“Yeah thanks sweetness.” Both men, tuck themselves back into their pants

Everything feels so surreal. You cautiously move you hand between your thighs. Feeling your sore abused cunt in an attempt to grasp the reality of what happened.

Wait a minute.

It’s too much, that too sticky to be just your arousal down there. The more you squeeze, contracting your pelvic floor, the more it seems to seep out of you.

“You… You came inside.” You murmur as your eyes well up with tears. Whatever daze you were in seems to be broken by this revelation. Instead it’s replaced by fear of what the consequences of this might be.

Dabi smacks his friend upside the head. “You fuckin’ dumbass. I told you not to.”

Judging by his grin, Shigaraki doesn’t register the insult. He’s too busy basking in the afterglow. “Aw, don’t cry babe. You were gripping me so tight, I thought you wanted it. ‘S’okay, your Nii-san will get you a plan B”

“Fuck no. That’s your jizz inside her.” He scowls, eyes focused on the cum that’s leaking out of your spent pussy.

“C’mon Dabi don’t be like that. I’m broke right now.” Shigaraki pleads.

Touya huffs and rolls his eyes. “You can get yourself a morning after pill right? Tomura will pay you back.”

“Yeah babe. I promise.” He gives you a dopey smile.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out he’s lying. Yeah, you know better now. You just nod as you pull up your panties, cringing at the sticky, wet sensation against your cunt.

“Me and Tomura are heading out. Make sure you clean all this up before anyone gets home.”

“B-but Touya-nii-“ you snivel.

“No buts. Clean up or you won’t be sitting comfy for a week. Are we clear?”

“Yes Touya-nii.” You reply defeated.

“And do it properly. Fuyumi has 3 brothers, she knows what a cumstain looks like and I don’t wanna have to do any explaining to her.”

You only nod, trying (and failing) to blink away tears.

Dabi rewards you with a chaste kiss to your cheek. “Best little sister in the world.” And he leaves you with that.

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jr4cats · 2 years

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A Thought regarding Darth Maul

Recently i saw this post

https://jr4cats.tumblr.com/post/670958045026811905/beanabouttown-tragicfantasy-girl

And I got to say, I find it really strange to say that Maul was horrible for his choices while also thinking that Anakin was the biggest tragic baby who never had any chance at all.

What i am trying to say is:

Maul had it worse than Anakin, Growin up wise.

Anakin grew up on first with his mother in tatooine, and then later with the Jedi. While living as a slave was definitely a bad life, he still had a loving mother for those nine years, besides also having friends to play with and a home.

Then the Jedi take him to the Order (With the consent and bleesing of his mother by the way.) And now there's a long and complicated discussion to be made about how well Anakin was taken care of, but he still had a roof under his head, food on his plate, and people who genuinely wanted to help him (And let him make questions, contrary to what some may say).

When Palpatine came to try to grom Anakin into the DarkSide, he had to hide his actual intentions and pretend to be just a kindly politician, pretend he actually gave a shit about Anakin.

And that also meant that Anakin had much easier asses to different opinions and philosophies, which is why Palpatine had to butter him up with promises of saving the ones he loved.

Maul, on the other hand didn't have that.

Maul, in Legends, was given by his mother to Sidious because she thought he would give him a good life. Needless to say, that didn't happen.

Maul was put into a living hell from day one, from being put in a vat of acid unless he answered questions, being send to a school of assassins were he was then ordered to kill everyone there regardless of they were to him. Left to die in horrific wastelands, starved, and pretty much left to dwindle in his on misery.

Questioning Palpatine was unthinkable, and the only way he was able to express any form of oposition to his master was in the form of murderous intent.

In Canon, we don't have as much information on his growth, but we know that he was stolen from his mother and trained to be an assassin, with promises of becoming his second in command when Palpatine took over.

Now if you know Sidious, you know that that's is a load of crap. Sidious doesn't want to share power. He is a backstabbing bastard that loves to backstab people. At best, Maul would be a useful lapdog, send to do the dirty job, but never given enough power or autonomy to actually challenge his master.

Except that didn't happen, instead, Maul was cut in half and went crazy for the next 20 years or so. Scurring along, surviving only on his hatred. By the time he comes back to "sanity" he doesn't have his legs and had everything that was promised to him taken away.

And is important to understand that, while the choices one makes are ultimately their responsability, how a person makes their choices is often defined a lot by how they grew up. Maul's choices, to me, while wrong and terrible, are way more easy to understand than Anakin's. From a very young age he was feed a violent ideology which told him that the only way to survive was throught hate, that his response to something happening to him was vengeance, that the only form of relationship he could have were that of a master and a underling.

And again, I am not saying that Maul didn't have any choices in his life. He did, and so did Anakin, and I think it's a disservice to both of this characters to ignore their autonomy to bash Obi-Wan.

#Star wars #Darth Maul #anakin skywalker #Darth Vader #Obi wan kenobi #jedi order #my posts

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liketheinferno2 · 3 years

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NieR:Automata asks the question multiple times of whether androids or machine lifeforms are more human or imitating humanity better than the other and this is portrayed with... so much delicate complexity I keep thinking about it.

On one side you have androids who are human in appearance, human in intelligence, able to speak clearly enough and express emotions as mundane and extraordinary as the audience needs to identify them as people..... and then on the other hand there's machines, who even though they are on the large part very fucking dumb and prone to iterating the same behaviors, they have communities, social roles, FAMILIES even though they have no biology that sorts them into familial units in the first place.

Neither of them can age, neither are born through sexual reproduction, and when connected to their respective networks neither can really DIE, and this throws off the whole human thing of being born into families and growing from a child into an adult and potentially becoming the parent to a new child later, of having siblings you come into the world connected to, and of having family roles that are (usually) both innate and distinct -- a sibling might be older than you but that's different to a parent being older that you, right?

So machines have parents and siblings and uncles and aunts and family dynamics, but if they're not biological, then all child machines are adopted, that's simple enough. But they don't age. A child machine does not necessarily grow into an adult. They can stay children, even infants, forever, and their minds don't progress beyond that state even though there are other machines of greater maturity and intelligence and just mental age than the children, so being an adult is clearly possible, but it does not correlate with growing or getting to adulthood through linear change. How does that work? Are they born adults? Are they born parents?

I feel like this is pretty cleanly answered with Adam and Eve who are really like... communicative characters being machines that look and talk like the android characters. Android bodies and machine psyches or something... Anyway, you see them both be born within minutes of each other. Featureless, sexless, ageless, undifferentiated, basically in the world for nearly the exact same amount of time to gain experiences and maturity.

The next time you see them, Adam is the elder, he's more mature, smarter; a caretaker even if he's doing kind of a shit job at it, while Eve is concerningly dependent and childish, doing whatever he's told and just talking about baby things like he wants to play, he hates wearing clothes and eating dinner. Adam implies they've taken on physical sex at some point since they were last seen naked as well.

And they're not just acting like brothers either, there's something extremely off about these guys. It might be hard to identify at first because it's not really overtly stated, but Adam did technically give birth to Eve and is in that sense also his mother. He feeds him and clothes him and teaches him and even gave him a name, and their dynamic is all sorts of weird because they're multitasking mother and brother in the same relationship.

It stands to reason, then, that machines have a thing about taking on human roles, gender roles and familial roles and societal roles like knights and kings, and their minds and bodies shape around that role so that they can best fulfill it, not the other way around. The brothers were not born with genitals or any kind of gender presentation but they developed those as they took on that role of brothers, male siblings. Adam leans very androgynous and I think it's because he's got a female role as well. Eve stays immature because he's the little one, he's always going to be the little one as long as that's his role, even though they're the same size and the same age chronologically.

I'm not exactly sure where I'm going with this I just think it's kind of a brilliant take how this game considers one of the core facets of humanity to be how we find purpose in relation to each other and form identities in the contexts of social groups.

When Eve loses his brothermom, he loses the thing that was connecting him to his social roles and goes, shall we say, off the shits. And the same thing happens to 9S later because the YoRHa combat roles are the same kind of thing, if more externally assigned-at-birth -- his entire purpose was to support someone else.

These two are secondary, they're the rib, the support, they were made to be dependent and when severed from their special person it results in a catastrophic collapse of identity. They get decontextualised and struggle to find that footing again without devolving into destruction or self-destruction, which is not unlike what grief can do to a person anyway.

Another thing is that throughout the game you see machines of all levels of intelligence hurt themselves and kill themselves, and for a long chunk of the game I had assumed this was because they were still robots in the end and had some kind of self-destruct programming that was acting up. The final route flips this on its head and shows self-harm and fear to be horrifically human things, something expressed even in the characters that act the most realistically like people... because they act the most realistically like people.

NieR:Automata shows you the most painful emotions of grief and loss of identity and insists that these are very basic and natural and HUMAN responses to traumatic events, even if they make you feel like the entire world is collapsing -- it's that capacity for love and hurt that we have in common with all other people. Fucking phenomenal game, the more I think about this the more it makes me feel serene and connected to the world.

#nier automata #meta #nier liveblog #let him speak

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dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years

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I Need You | The Mikaelson Boys

Hey lovelies! Here’s another Mikaelson Brother’s fic. This time it’s a firefighter AU. I don’t know why I was so inspired but oh well, here it is anyway. Please do ignore the blatant plot holes and dropped plot points. I wrote this purely for the fluff so the rest doesn’t matter too much! I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Until next time, all my love!

Description: The brothers are firefighters and they come back to the station after a long day only to find an unconscious woman in their fire station. It turns out she’s their mate and she's seconds from death. From there it’s pure fluff/smut. Honestly the plot of this is weak, I just wanted something majorly fluffy.

Pairing: Female!Reader x The Mikaelson Boys

Warnings: THIS IS AN 18+ ONLY FIC!!! It’s not a full blown smut but it does get heated. It’s hella light smut. Honestly the warning should read something more like “inappropriate actions for on duty firefighters towards a civilian at the workplace”. Take into mind that I do not condone this behaviour outside of my fics but that they are soulmates and it’s all consensual! The other warning is angst. This is super graphic at the beginning but after that it gets better.

Word count: 7.3k

Tags: Angst, smut, fluff

P.S. This is only in the boys’ perspectives for like five nanoseconds, after that it’s completely in the reader’s

Tag list: @activist-af @corishirogane3

(Pictures not mine, mood board is!)

“Remind me, Elijah,” Klaus runs a hand through his hair, shaking some of the soot from his blonde hair, “why we decided to do this again?”

Elijah huffs indignantly, also shaking out his hair and shrugging the heavy coat off his shoulders. His hoodie underneath is soaked through with sweat and it follows the same path. Klaus already stands in just a t-shirt, the navy material glued to his skin.

“Don’t you remember, brother?” Kol hops out of the truck from behind the wheel, his bare chest exposed, spare the straps keeping the bottom half of his turnout gear on, a cheerful grin on his lips, “He wanted us to give back to the community. I believe his exact words were firefighters or soldiers.”

It’s true, Elijah had wanted them to do something meaningful with their lives. Well, with a fraction of their lives. He wanted them to be a family again and what better way to do that than to take on a career built on teamwork. Honestly, he had expected them to last maybe six months before quitting but now they were three years deep and he couldn’t see them going anywhere for a while. Somehow station 32 in small town Virginia had become a home base for them.

Elijah leans against the brick of the old fire station, closing his eyes for a moment, “just be happy I didn’t suggest doing both.”

“What makes you think I would follow you to war,” Klaus laughs but it’s hollow, the strain of the day settling over his bones.

They haven’t had a day this strenuous in months, sixteen calls in one day and it’s only eight. Human or not, that’s a lot of heavy lifting. Klaus would do anything for some sleep. He sags against the wall next to his brother. Despite the sleep tugging at his body he can’t seem to relax. Something is keeping his spine rigid, something he can’t quite place his mind on. Oh well.

Elijah chuckles, his eyes still shut, “you followed me here didn’t you? Face it, you needed this as much as I did.”

Klaus doesn’t speak, he just hums his agreement, something entirely unlike him but brought on from the exhaustion. His shoulders remain tight, his muscles stiff. The air feels like it's buzzing lightly, charged with something he doesn’t have enough energy to think about.

Kol laughs through his own fatigue, stretching his arms behind him, ignoring the way his bones click slightly, “I, for one, need a shower. I smell like flames and I hate it. I suggest you two do the same,” he turns from his slumped brothers, “I can smell you from here.”

Elijah pulls himself from the wall, rolling his shoulders and peeling his eyes open, “come on, Niklaus, you can take a nap for a few hours. I doubt the rest of the night will be eventful, half the town should be asleep by now.”

“I hope you’re right.”

The two brothers catch up with Kol easily, grabbing their discarded gear on the way and heading towards the locker room. Kol is the first to step through the door, adamant on jumping in the shower before his brothers take all the hot water like they usually do, when he stops suddenly, all of his senses on high alert. Something is wrong, terribly so. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, catching the faintest hint of sweetness, like vanilla and oranges, mingled with something sharper. Something too familiar.

“Kol, what are you-” Elijah doesn’t get to finish his thought.

“Blood,” Klaus pushes past both of them, his eyebrows furrowed, “I smell blood. Someone’s here.”

Kol nods and steps further into the room, directly followed by Klaus and Elijah. As they push forward, towards the showers, the scent of fresh blood intensifies. So does the vanilla citrus perfume, magnifying and tangling around each brother. The room is electrified because of it, drawing them quicker to the heart of the locker room. The distinct sound of three heartbeats fills the room, each one louder than the last. Thump, thump, thump.

When they turn the corner they freeze, each heart skipping a beat in the same moment. There, in the middle of the showers, is an unconscious woman. A naked, unconscious woman slumped over in a pool of her own blood. Her body is battered, more blue and black than any other color. Who knew a vampire's blood could turn as cold as theirs is right now?

“Fuck,” Kol’s voice is the first to break the tension, dropping to his knees with a dull thud, his heart strings snapping violently in his chest, “fuck!”

Klaus is in front of her in a flash, his teeth ripping into his wrist without a second thought. Kol turns his head away, squeezing his eyes shut. There’s no way he can watch this. The sweet smell wraps around him, taunting him almost. The overwhelming sense of loss wraps around him like a noose, his throat closing harshly. Why now, why like this?

“Is that,” Elijah, too, sinks to the ground, his hands splayed against the concrete, his eyes glued to the horrific sight in front of him, “is that who I think it is?”

His muscles tighten, an indescribable pain rippling through his entire body. He feels like he’s drowning. No, like he’s burning alive. Fuck, it feels like both at the same time. He wants to scream but no sounds are surfacing. This can’t be happening!

Kol’s voice is sharp and cracked, too many emotions to decipher leaking into his words, “yeah, it’s her. It’s our mate.”

Klaus presses his bleeding wrist to her mouth hard, tears streaming freely down his face. He couldn’t care less about how he looks, not right now. Not when it feels like someone is ripping his heart straight from his chest.

“Come on, love. Wake up. I need you! Wake up!”

* * * * * *

“Wake up. I need you! Wake up!”

You tear your eyes open suddenly, bright lights flooding your senses. You gasp as you regain consciousness, something that you realize too late is a mistake. Your mouth is filled with a thick, hot substance, one much too metallic and familiar for your liking, that you inhale by accident. It fills your lungs quickly, your chest burning, and you roll over, hacking up mouthfuls of the disgusting fluid. It feels like your entire body is engulfed in flames. Like you’re dying twice.

The concrete is freezing against your fiery arms and, when it finally blurs into focus, you realize it’s also covered in a deep red liquid. You run your tongue over your mouth, the tang making your eyes widen. Your heart stutters as you finally come to an understanding. Blood. The floor is covered in blood. Your blood. This time you vomit, and almost scream when you see it matches the liquid around you.

“Shit,” a voice sounds from behind you as a pair of hands slides over your back, startling you further into the sticky redness, “holy shit you’re awake. Oh thank god!”

You flinch away from the hands, turning too quickly to face whoever it is behind you. Mistake number two. The walls start spinning around you and you have to grasp the wet stone beneath you and close your eyes for a moment. When you finally open them again you’re met with a pair of warm, brown eyes. Your heart stutters again, but you don’t have time to wonder why you don’t feel as afraid this time.

“Who are you? What the hell is going on?” you run your eyes over him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, “I don’t- where am I?”

Each of your senses are on high alert, your heart beating so loud you’re afraid it’s going to jump out of your chest, as you allow yourself to finally take in your surroundings. You're in a shower room of sorts, with rows of lockers on your one side and the tiled rows of shower stalls on the other. The smell of fresh blood hits you full force and you almost vomit again. You suck in a deep breath, ignoring the burning in your lungs as you try to force the feeling away. Your eyes catch some writing on the wall; Station 32. You look back to the man in front of you, zeroing in on his navy t-shirt with the same logo.

What the hell are you doing at a fire station?

He shifts closer to you and you stiffen. A pained expression laces across his face and your chest stings, worse than it did when you were coughing up the blood. He closes his eyes for a moment and when he opens them again there’s a sheen of tears. You swallow thickly, your own tears forming at the sight of his. What on earth is happening?

He sits back on his knees and runs a red hand through his blonde hair, maring the light strands with blood. You tense further at the sight. For some reason you want to stop him from spreading more of the blood over him. He’s already kneeling in a puddle of it, and his arms are soaked, painted in a cruel crimson. Even his t-shirt is drenched. You grind your teeth together, your jaw clenching harshly. He places both his hands on the floor and takes another few inches towards you.

His movements are slow as if not to startle you, “hey, it’s alright. You’re safe now. I’m Klaus, I’m a firefighter here. You’re at station 32, Lexington, Virginia.”

His voice is heavy with emotion, making what you can only assume is a strong british accent even stronger. Your heart tugs harshly when he speaks, begging you to move closer to him. You wrap your arms around yourself, ignoring the increasingly sticky feeling over your entire body. You can’t stop a few tears from slipping down your cheeks.

“How did I get here?”

A new voice, one just as accented and gravelly, pulls your attention from Klaus, “we aren’t sure, darling. We just got back ourselves. Gave us quite a shock, actually. How much do you remember?”

Your eyes wander around the blonde and land on two more men, two brunettes. You lock eyes with each of them, your heat racing once more. You suck in a breath at the wave of emotions that hit you. Sadness, confusion, longing, comfort. Love. It all hits you at once and you have to close your eyes before the room starts spinning again. When you open them again, they’re closer. Far enough to keep you from tensing, settled next to Klaus.

You tuck your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around yourself, suddenly feeling very exposed. One of the men, the one with dark brown hair cut close to his head and concerned brown eyes, notices and wastes no time pulling the t-shirt from his chest and settling it on your knees. It’s warm and a touch damp but you don’t mind, gratefully shuffling it over your head and passing him a grateful nod. It lands mid thigh, circling you in a heady wood scent. Your cheeks flame as you try not to lean down and smell it directly. When you look back at him his eyes are glinting.

“I’m not sure,” you press your palms against your eyes and immediately regret it, the stickiness now smeared on your cheeks and eyelids, “I don’t remember much. Only bits and pieces from this morning but nothing after that. Wait, is that normal? God, why can’t I remember anything!”

All of a sudden you’re panicking and the room begins shrinking, at least it feels like it is. You can’t breathe, your lungs constricting painfully. There isn’t enough oxygen in the room. Was there ever enough? You’re racking your mind for any little thing that you can remember but it’s pointless, you’re going too fast and your mind can’t make sense of anything you’re seeing. You see a sink, one covered in blood. You see teeth. No, you see fangs. You smell the forest, one heavy with pine trees. None of it makes sense!

You claw maniacally at your chest, trying to suck in enough air to clear the fog in your head. Nothing is helping, your body is on fire and sticky and you just want to scream until it all makes sense. The shirt feels three sizes too small and you want to tear it over your head. Just before you can, though, you’re pulled onto someone's lap, someone who smells like pure water, and you can finally suck in a proper breath. The flames that were lapping your skin slowly start to fade, giving over to a cool sensation that soothes your achy bones.

“Deep breaths, love,” Klaus’ voice washes over you like a lullaby, his hands rubbing down your back, “that’s good, just like that. We’re going to figure this out but for now you just have to breathe. You’re safe now, I promise you that. We can start with an easy one, what’s your name?”

You sink into his chest more easily than you would like to admit. His arms circle you tighter, his head resting on yours in an entirely unprofessional way but you don’t care. You’ve never felt this kind of need before. You’re afraid that if you leave his arms now then the flames will come back.

“Y/n,” you murmur into his shoulder, “my name is y/n.”

A pair of hands rub over your shoulders, drawing you into them slightly on instinct, “darling, I know you’re scared but we need to see if you’re seriously hurt. We found you in a lot of blood,” whoever is speaking his voice is rough and he has to stop to clear his throat, muttering a curse under his breath, “do you think you can let us check you over?”

When he brings up the blood, it’s all you can smell again, and you scramble from Klaus’ arms, narrowly making it before you’re vomiting again. This time you don’t puke up any blood, thank god. Just bile, which isn’t much better. The metallic scent is all around you and it’s all you can do to hang your head and suck in as much air as possible. You feel so dizzy it physically hurts.

“Shit, Elijah we gotta get this cleaned up. It’s only making it worse. C’mere love,” you’re pulled into the warm chest of a man you’ve yet to interact with.

You lock eyes with the last man, losing your breath at his honey brown eyes. He smiles softly and you feel your cheeks go hot. You bring your hands to your lips quickly, all too aware of how close you are to this man and the fact that you were just throwing up and are soaked through with blood. You blink back a few tears, embarrassment streaming through you. You glance down at his chest which is now covered in your blood. The man furrows his brows, shaking his head lightly. You can almost hear his thoughts; don’t worry.

Elijah, the man who gave you his shirt, nods at Klaus, standing quickly, “you two take her to the captain’s bathroom, it’s nicer anyway and more private. I’m not expecting anyone else tonight but I’d rather them not see her like this,” he turns, locking eyes with you, his rough tone softening drastically, “baby, are you okay if they help you clean this blood off? They’re not going to hurt you, we just need to get you cleaned up and warm to make sure you don’t go back into shock.”

The word baby rings through your head, hitting you directly in the chest. Tendrils of warmth unfurl through your body and you find yourself nodding to everything he says. Elijah sags, relief taking over his body. It doesn’t last long though, the tension filling his frame as he looks back around the room.

“Kol,” the man under you tenses, “take her upstairs now. Niklaus, do you mind helping me with this? It’s-” Elijah looks at you again for a moment before he has to look away, “It’s going to take two people.”

Klaus stares at you longingly, the pained look back in his eyes. It makes you want to pull him into your arms, blood or no blood, and hold him. You tense at the thought. Where did that come from?

He looks at you a moment longer before crawling over to and running one of his stained hands over your cheek. He leans down and kisses the top of your head, rubbing his cheek against your matted hair. Sparks dance down your spine at the simple touch, lighting your body like a christmas tree. Too many emotions surface again, confusion and longing being the top contenders.

“I’ll be with you as soon as I can, love,” he whispers to you before standing himself and addressing Elijah, “yeah, let’s get this over with.”

Elijah nods at Klaus, his shoulders sagging slightly, probably out of relief again. Looking around one last time it’s obvious the job is going to take some major man-power. Thankfully the blood is contained mostly to the showers, but even so it’s coating almost every surface from there on. Looking at it makes you chest heavy again but before you can lose it Kol stands, pulling you up with him.

He holds you easily, bringing you level with Klaus and Elijah. Elijah strides over to you, taking your face in his hands. Your heart pounds mercilessly at his touch. It takes all your willpower not to jump into his arms and curl around his bare chest. You try not to stare at his taut muscles. Now is definitely not the time to let lust join the myriad of emotions running through you. Even as you force your eyes away, though, your body ignites and you have to stop yourself from clenching your thighs around Kol. Fucking hell, what is going on?

Kol’s arms tense suddenly and when you peak back at him, his eyes are shades darker. You swallow thickly, trying not to think too much about the heated look in his eyes. Or how much you don’t want him to stop looking at you like that. You peer back at Elijah, who holds a similar expression. You have to suck in a breath, the room temperature instantly raising ten degrees.

Elijah leans his forehead against yours, his thumbs grazing your cheekbones gently, “Kol’s going to take you upstairs now, okay baby? He’ll take care of you, help you wash some of this off. You’re in control here, alright? No one else is going to hurt you.”

You nod lightly, your forehead rubbing against his, “okay, Eli.”

He sucks in a sharp breath and presses a hard kiss to your head before releasing you. Kol shuffles you further up his body, drawing your attention to him. He grins at you but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Before you can process what you’re doing, you’re cupping his cheek in your hand. His skin is soft and so warm. He sighs quietly, sinking his cheek into your touch, his eyes losing some of the tension.

“Let’s go get cleaned up, darling.”

You lower your hand, choosing now to wrap your arms around his shoulders instead. His muscles under your fingertips are glorious, warm and firm. When you rest your face against his shoulder, you breathe in the faintest hints of nutmeg and flames. It’s absolutely intoxicating. His shoulder is hot against your cheek and you finally give into your cravings to curl your body around his, wrapping your legs tightly around his torso and clinging to him for dear life. He holds you against him with everything he has, taking the steps two at a time.

You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes until you feel him enter a separate room, one much smaller than the locker room you were previously in. You’re greeted with a spectacular sight; a spacious bathroom with a wall of showerheads and the biggest clawfoot tub you’ve ever seen. You almost jump from his arms at how badly you want to get in it.

He sets you down on a vast countertop, the cool marble biting into your bottom. You shiver lightly, a warm blush spreading down your neck and chest. He places his arms on either side of you, staring at you with a mixture of tenderness and caution. You have to will yourself to keep looking into his eyes and not at the way his arms flex from how he’s leaning. God, where did all these wanton feelings come from?

“Okay, darling, where are we going from here? What do you need me to do?” his accent is fuller due to the acoustics in the bathroom and you nearly keel over from how hard it slams through your body, tugging at every nerve south of your belly button.

“Um,” you clear your throat lightly, swallowing the sudden scratchiness, “do you think there’s a toothbrush anywhere around here?”

Kol grins knowingly, leaning down and opening a drawer next to your thigh. The heat rolling off his body rushes into your legs and when he resurfaces with a new toothbrush and a cheeky smile you’re practically panting.

“Thanks.”

You brush your teeth quickly, making sure to scrub the remnants of the past thirty minutes or so from your mouth. It instantly makes you feel a little better, knowing you can speak to Kol without your breath being a biohazard. You set the toothbrush down, looking back to him appreciatively.

Kol cups your chin gently, spreading heat like butter through your bones,“Do you think you can stand? If you can, I can wait outside while you get cleaned up. You can take as much time as you need, darling. I’ll be right outside the door.”

Your heart pounds quickly at his suggestion, your throat closing painfully. You don’t want him to leave you alone, even if he is just outside the door. You don’t know how to ask him to stay, though, and you don’t want to cross any boundaries. You’re so damn conflicted that your chest aches.

“Okay.”

He nods, his eyes a touch less bright than they were a few moments ago, and he backs away hesitantly. You use all your energy to push yourself off the counter, using it to keep yourself upright when your feet touch the floor. Your legs feel like jelly and you wonder for a moment if you have any bones. You shake your head lightly, scolding yourself. Don’t be stupid, y/n, of course you have bones. However, when you go to take a step towards the bathtub you almost revoke the sentiment. Your legs crumple around you, bringing you to a pile on the floor.

“Fuck,” Kol is next to you in no time at all, his hands rushing over your legs, most likely checking for damage, “I knew that was going to happen I don’t know why I let you do that, darling. I was trying to give you space. Are you okay? Elijah and Klaus are going to kill me.”

He mutters the last part under his breath but you still catch it, “it’s not your fault, I was trying not to bother you. I thought I could make it to the tub, at least, and then figure the rest out from there. I, uh,” you scrub your hands over your face, covering your eyes with your palms, “I didn’t want to be a burden, more than I already am I mean.”

A few more tears slip past your guard, tracking lines through the dried blood on your cheeks. You swallow a sob before it can make any noise, your shoulders shaking slightly from the cold tiles underneath you. You’re utterly exhausted. You wish you could just click your heels and go home. The only problem is that something tells you that you’d only end up here again if you could do that.

“No,” Kol’s voice is low and strained, “no, darling, don’t say that. This isn’t your fault,” he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his hot, nutmeg chest, “you’re not a burden to me. Or Elijah or Klaus. You’re a surprise and not an unwelcome one. If you need me to stay, hell, if you want me to stay I will. I’ll do whatever you tell me to do, okay?”

You peer up at him, clinging to his toned chest like you’re afraid it’ll vanish from underneath you, “please get this blood off of me, Kol. I can’t do it, I can’t even hold myself up. I need you.”

His eyes darken again, the honeyed brown turning a darker chocolate color, “you have me, darling, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere,” he leans down and brushes his nose against yours, “never ever.”

A tiny giggle bubbles in your chest and it feels like freedom. It feels like falling asleep on the beach and hiking through the mountains and every good thing you’ve ever experienced. Kol’s eyes light up and he bites back a grin before doing it again, pulling a flood of giggles from you. Soon you're throwing your arms around him, laughing your head off for no reason at all, him joining you in the madness. You can’t stop and you don’t want to. You need this, you need him. It frightens you how intensely you feel connected to him already but you push the fear away for the time being.

“Okay, okay,” Kol scoops you against him and stands, “enough of that, love, time for a bath.”

That effectively puts an end to your giggling, your body igniting at the thought of taking a bath with this second coming of adonis. You swallow the lump in your throat, this time caused by the rippling of his taut muscles against you. The t-shirt you’re wearing feels see through suddenly, the thin layer between your core and his stomach doing little to quell the heat seeping from the crack between your thighs.

You dig your fingers into his shoulders a little harder than you mean to, pulling a soft grunt from him, one that you can feel in your own chest, “bath. Okay.”

Your cheeks flame at your idiotic response. Bath. Okay. What the hell was that?

He walks to the tub and sets you gently on the floor of it, the porcelain ice against your flesh. He turns, his back facing you as he pulls his suspenders off. You admire the fluid movement of his muscles as he steps out of his stained turnout gear, leaving him in a pair of grey sweatpants. His back is toned like a greek god’s and you would like nothing more in this moment than to know what it feels like to dig your nails into it. You squeeze your thighs together, trying to air the wanton out of your system. Don’t be a hussy, y/n. He turns back to you and your face flushes when he catches your lingering stare.

He hooks his fingers in his sweatpants and your breath catches in your throat. He lifts his eyebrow, silently asking if it’s okay for him to continue. Your mouth feels dry, your head is spinning. Slowly you nod, your eyes glued to his. He smirks lighty, an action so doused in sex that almost has you pulling Elijah’s t-shirt from your body and falling at his feet. You hold your breath as he pulls the sweatpants from his body and your heart almost falls out of your chest when they reveal a pair of grey plaid boxers. What were you expecting? Your subconscious taunts you mercilessly.

He steps into the bathtub behind you, kneeling and grabbing the showerhead on the way down. The heat rolling off of him seems to have increased, wrapping around you and daring you to melt into him. You want to, so badly you do, but you remain upright, your hands on the side of the tub, leaving rusty smudges on the crisp, white edges.

Kol leans forward, his mouth right next to your ear sending shivers straight to your core when he speaks, “darling, I’m going to need to take this off,” his fingers tease the tops of your thighs, curling around the hem of the t-shirt, “may I do that?”

He presses his face against your neck, laying a few soft kisses to the skin under your jaw. You roll your head back onto his shoulder, savouring his affection and warmth for a moment without overthinking it.

You nod against his skin, “yes, Kol.”

You can feel the breath he takes against your back and then, when he releases it, against your neck. He takes his time, his fingers gently skimming your sides as he gathers the fabric up and over your head. You raise your arms to make it easier for him, gasping gently as cool air rolls over your exposed breasts. He tosses Elijah’s t-shirt to the side, running his hands down your back and planting another kiss to your uncovered shoulder.

You know you should feel ashamed for being this naked with a man you just met but you physically can’t bring yourself to feel any of it. All you know is that you’re comfortable and that his hands on your skin feel like genuine magic.

“Okay, I’m going to turn the water on now,” he rubs his nose down the back of your neck, “let me know if it’s too hot or anything.”

Your eyes prickle at how sweet he is, how gentle he is with you. He definitely doesn’t look like the gentle type, all tall, dark, and broody, but the way he’s acting proves otherwise. You nod your head, leaning your chin on the edge of the tub. He starts the water, a plume of steam instantly clouding the bathroom. The first stream to hit you is heavenly and you can’t help but close your eyes.

“Is that okay, darling?”

You hum quietly, “it’s perfect.”

You let the water lull you into a daze, picturing the stream turning red as the water rolls off you and down the drain. It’s mesmerizing, the warmth of the water combined with Kol’s heady scent. When he touches you, though, it’s like a crescendo of feeling. His fingers run over your back, no doubt washing away the events of this evening, but all you can think about is how perfect his hands feel against your bare skin.

Everywhere he touches blazes to life. You feel like putty in his hands, willing to mold however he needs you to. When his fingers glide down your sides your body reacts without warning, your back arching against his chest. You can feel his chest rumble under your back more than you can hear it. His large hands span your back easily, spreading over your ribcage, his thumbs gently grazing your breasts. You suck in a harsh breath, clenching your teeth to keep his name in your mouth. It’s begging to be said though. Said, screamed, praised. Anything. Fuck it.

“Kol,” you breathe, reaching back to grasp at his forearms for stability, “more.”

The growl that rips from his chest is unexpected but it lights every fibre of your being alive. He pulls you hard against his solid chest, falling against the back of the tub and shifting you so you’re perfectly centered on his lap. A flare of pleasure flashes up your spine when you land on something hot and hard. You hiss at the thin layer of clothing between you and Kol.

His lips find your ear, taking the lobe between his teeth and sending even more heat pooling in your core, “as you wish, darling.”

Your hands fall away as his hands cover your breasts, his thumbs skillfully sliding over your hard nipples. This time you don’t whisper his name, you moan it. Loudly. Every time he rolls your nipples between his fingers, you see stars. You see the whole damn galaxy. His lips find your shoulder, biting down gently but hard enough to pull a string of incoherent praise from your lips.

His chest rumbles with every noise you make and the ball of heat between your legs grows brighter. You rock your hips against his, trying to build some much needed friction. The noise you pull from him is the epitome of heaven and it hits you right in the chest. It compels you to keep grinding your core against him harder, taking every sound he offers up and matching it with one of your own. You squeeze your eyes shut tightly, rolling your head onto his shoulder as the anticipation sings through your body.

Your senses are flooded, your hearing muffled by the running water and your blood pumping through your ears, which is probably why you don’t hear the door open and someone step into the bathroom. It’s only when a pair of lips attaches to the base of your neck do you peel your eyes open. You meet Klaus’ stare with a gasp, just as Kol pinches your nipples harder than all the times before.

Your orgasm hits you like a truck, tearing through your nerves without warning and rendering you to pieces. All the while Klaus takes your arm, placing tantalizing, open mouth kisses down your skin. When you finally come down from the climax, your muscles are layered with a sweet exhaustion. Kol nuzzles against your back, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Fuck, darling,” he nips at your shoulder and your skin zings lightly, “you have no idea how much I needed that.”

Your eyes meet Klaus’ and your cheeks flame from the intensity of his stare, “I didn’t do anything, you did it all.”

You want to look away from Klaus, you want to feel some inkling of shame, but you can’t. All you want is to do is hook your arm around his neck and bring him closer to you. Your body craves his and it’s all you can do to not melt into his palm when he cups your cheek.

“That’s the point, love,” Klaus runs his thumb over your skin, “he just wanted to touch you.”

Kol hums his agreement into your flesh, his lips still glued to you.

“Do you want to touch me?” The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them, your eyes widening as soon as you register what you just said.

In less than a second, the brown eyes staring into your turn a dark coal color. The skin around Klaus’ eyes turns a deep purple. Your breath hitches at this side of him, a deep longing settling in your chest the longer you stare into his eyes. He's ethereal and entirely unhuman but you can’t even think about that. You want him so bad it stings. He has to shut his eyes for a few moments and when he opens them again his eyes are back to normal, if not a touch darker.

When he speaks his voice is gravelly, “I need to.”

You swallow hard, forcing the words out before you have time to lose your nerve, “come here then.”

Klaus’ eyes widen before he stands abruptly, shoving his own jogging pants down his legs before stepping into the other side of the tub. Kol lets you go as Klaus settles against the porcelain. As soon as he’s comfortable he wraps his hands around your hips, pulling you onto his lap and against his chest. Your legs end up on either side of him, much like how you were with Kol, your core pressed against the hardest part of him.

His crisp scent folds around you and sucks you deeper against him until your chest to chest, your breasts pressing into his firm chest. His arms settle around your back, his palms splayed over your spine. Your flesh buzzes from the contact, goosebumps rising when he traces lazy circles with his fingertips. You meet his eyes again and involuntarily clench your thighs around his hips. He’s looking at you like you’re the only girl he’s ever laid eyes on. Like he’s in the presence of a goddess and that he would gladly lay his life down for you.

Your eyes draw down to the tattoo on his chest, an image of birds in flight, and you run your fingers over it gently. He sucks in a breath when you touch him, closing his eyes and leaning back against the edge of the tub. Something about his reaction spurs you on. If that’s what your fingers can do, what can your mouth do? You lean down, gently attaching your lips to his collarbone and tugging his skin into your mouth.

He jolts up when you bite down lightly, jostling you further onto his lap and sending waves of heat rolling over your body, “fuck,” his hand wraps around the back of your neck, pushing you impossibly closer to him, “love, you have no idea how good that feels.”

You pull back slightly, your mouth still against his skin as your eyes bore into his, “show me.”

His chest rumbles under your lips before he pulls your head back gently and slams his lips against your throat. He sucks your skin into his mouth and, for the second time tonight, you see stars. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, lacing your fingers through his blonde hair. You tug him closer to you, crossing your ankles behind his back. You want every inch of his skin pressed against yours.

He bites down, his teeth scraping pleasure into every nerve, and you pull at his soft hair, praises falling mindlessly from your lips, “Klaus.”

A second pair of hands glides over your back, “darling, let me wash your hair. I can feel Elijah getting restless. Unless you want three men in this tub with you, I need to finish getting you cleaned up.”

Your heart pounds at the thought of Elijah in the bath with you, his large body pressed against yours. You can practically smell his pine scent in the air, clinging to your skin. You bite your lip. You want to moan his name and he isn’t even in the room. You shake the thought from your mind, leaning into Kol’s hands.

Klaus kisses up your neck, peppering your jaw and cheeks with pecks before pulling you to lay against his chest. You close your eyes, letting the exhaustion that’s been building flood your system. Kol soaks your hair, the warm water pouring down your shoulders as you press your face into Klaus’ neck. His hands draw lazily up and down your sides as Kol massages shampoo against your scalp. You mewl at his touch and cling to Klaus. You could stay in the moment forever, it’s absolutely blissful.

Just as Kol is rinsing the shampoo from your hair, the door to the bathroom opens revealing a shirtless Elijah. He’s clad in nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants. In his hand is a large towel. His eyes zero in on you from across the room and, though you can’t see them clearly, you can tell they’re dark. Your head goes fuzzy as your eyes draw down his sculpted chest, lingering on his rippled stomach. You meet his eyes again and give into your instincts, reaching your arms out for him.

“Eli,” you call out to him, “I need you.”

You stand on wobbly feet, bearing everything to him. You don’t care, you just want to be in his arms. You haven’t had a chance to touch him yet and your body is screaming at you to get as close to him as humanly possible. Even more than humanly possible. Elijah closes the space between the two of you in seconds, wrapping the towel around you before pulling you into his arms. Your legs wrap around his waist, your arms circling his neck.

He leans down, rubbing his nose against yours, “I need you too, baby.”

You slip your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, playing with the soft strands mindlessly. He leans into your touch and your heart soars. He hikes you further up your body, leaning his face against your shoulder. You run your hands over his shoulders, sighing when the tension leaves his muscles.

“I’m going to go sleep for a few hours,” Elijah mumbles into your shoulder but his words aren’t aimed at you, “do you think the two of you will be okay until then.”

Klaus waves his hand dismissively and Kol nods, still draped lazily over the edge of the tub, “yeah, yeah, go, we’ll be fine brother.”

Wait, what?

Did you hear that right? Brother. Your entire body sets on fire. They’re all related. Well, there’s the shame you were missing at least. You push against Elijah’s chest, forcing him to meet your eyes. When he sees your expression his brows pull together, his brown eyes filled with concern.

“Baby-”

“You’re all brothers?” you breathe, your face burning, “brothers? What on earth is going on?”

He stares into your eyes for a moment before laughing, turning with you in his arms and starting towards the door. You lock eyes with Klaus and Kol over Elijah’s shoulder. They, too, are laughing without a care. Kol tosses you a wink just as Elijah carries you into the hallway.

You circle your arms around his shoulders again, “Lijah this is crazy. Explain. Please.”

He pulls you through another door, exposing you to a comfortable looking bed. Just looking at it sends sleep pooling in your limbs. He sets you in the middle of it before climbing on after you. He pushes you backwards and you fall into a pile of pillows, the towel long forgotten as he crawls on top of you. Your body flares with something hot as he holds himself on his forearms, his hot chest grazing yours with every breath he takes. You wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him closer to you despite your still unanswered questions.

“Lijah,” you whine as his lips find your neck, arching into his touch like two magnets connecting, “I need answers.”

Elijah’s teeth scrape at your neck, pulling soft moans from your lips. You’re so tired but the want that swirls in your core demands anything but sleep. You grip his shoulders, digging your fingers into his firm muscles. You pull his hips closer to yours, rolling against him desperately. You press your head into the pillows, exposing as much of your neck as you can to him.

He pulls away and you have to swallow your protests. When you finally open your eyes, you’re met with the same dark eyes you saw from Klaus, only now they’re accented by a pair of sharp looking fangs. You suck in a deep breath, reaching up to cup Elijah’s jaw.

“I know, baby,” he rubs his face into your hand, “I’ll give you all the answers you need and more but first I need you. I have waited a thousand years for you and now that I have you I don’t think I’ll be able to let you go yet. Please, baby, let me have you.”

His words wrap around you, every part of your being, and sink into your core. A wave of longing hits you again, and something else that you’re not ready to explore. It makes your heart warm and your body crave every inch of his. You already knew your answer before he asked. You’ve known since you woke up to the three of them.

Maybe you even knew before that.

You pull his face to yours, capturing his lips with your own, “you already have me. I’m yours.”

962 notes · View notes

thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Partner

Ethan Winters (Resident Evil Biohazard) x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Spoilers for Resident Evil 8:Village, Swearing, Mentions of injury

Genre: Angsty Fluff, Comfort

Summary: Following the final battle in the Dimitrescu Castle, Ethan is surprised to stumble upon a person who witnessed the whole debacle, offering him a safe place to patch up his wounds and rest for a little while.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request! So sorry you’ve had to wait so long but here it finally is! Hope you come across it and enjoy reading it! Love, Vy ❤

“That was...something else.“ Ethan Winters mutters to himself as he limps his way out of the Dimitrescu Castle which is now vacant in terms of residence - his doing. He killed Alcina Dimitrescu and her daughters, all arguably in self defense and with little guilt to follow. However, plenty of trauma’s definitely attached to him following the horrific events he had to go through and the things he had to see between the walls of those luxurious rooms hiding dark secrets of the vampires who took pleasure in torturing people, and wreaking havoc over the villagers who feared them.

“At least they won’t hurt anyone any longer.“ He tells himself, giving the monster of a structure one final look before he continues back towards the center of the village where he’s gonna rethink what he’s got to do next, gather his bearings, take a breath and keep going. He has no other option but to keep going, he won’t allow himself to quit no matter what danger he faces. In his mind, he’s convinced himself that he’s already seen the worst, it’s easier on him that way, it suppresses the fear he’d feel otherwise. The last thing he wants is to think what’s in store for him ahead, he’d rather focus on what’s up to him to do next.

“And we can’t thank you enough.“

The sudden presence of an unfamiliar voice startles him, causing him to whip out his gun and point it in the direction it came from. However, he quickly finds his deadly tight grip loosening ever so slightly because he realizes he’s pointing the barrel at a very human-looking and seemingly harmless person.

“Who are you? Who’s ‘we’?“ Ethan still refuses to let his guard down though, just cause it may not be a life or death situation, doesn’t mean this person won’t bring him trouble and Lord knows that’s the last thing he needs right now.

On instinct, the person takes a step back, “I speak on the behalf of all the remaining villagers. I mean, it was only a matter of time before we too became victims in the Dimitrescu Castle basement. I was next, actually, but the commotion you created allowed for me to escape. I owe you my life, foreigner.“ The speak hurriedly and in a hushed tone, as if the fear of their torturers overhearing them still lives within them despite the monsters being deceased.

“Glad I could help you.“ He nods curtly, remaining at the distance of seven feet between them, “My name’s Ethan Winters by the way.“

They give him the tiniest of smiles, “Y/N L/N, pleased to meet you.” Their gaze gives him a quick onceover, assessing the damage the horrors of the castle have inflicted on him. Their eyes widen in shock at the many bleeding wounds all over his body but what appears to rattle them most is the severe injury that’s causing his limp as well as the missing finger - a poorly wrapped would that has surprisingly not started getting infected yet. “Look, I know you don’t trust me, but I don’t trust you to take care of yourself either. I live in that windmill over there in the outskirts, come with me, I’ll help you with...well, with all that. You seem rather hopeless at medical care.”

While he could refuse their offer, he wouldn’t be able to deny the fact that they’re right - he knows the basics of first aid, but his injuries are far too gone for simple first aid, especially when taken into account that he doesn’t even have any supplies. How he’s not died from blood loss is a surprise to him as much as it is to them.

“What’s my guarantee you won’t turn on me?“ He finally asks after a decent amount of time contemplating it.

They shrug, “You have none. But, you have the guarantee that if I turn on you, you’ll be the one coming out of that altercation alive.” Their gaze sizes up the guns he’s got on him, emphasizing their point.

Suddenly, Ethan feels sorta ridiculous - after all, guns or no guns, he could probably take on them easily with just his knife. Regardless, no one can blame him for being cautious. “Fine.“ He mutters, “But please don’t turn on me, I’ve already had one hell of a day.“

Y/N nods, motioning for him to follow them, “I promise I won’t.”

* * *

“Wow, what a back-stabber! Some friends you have, Winters.“ Y/N comments as they set down a cup of tea on the small wooden table in front of the freshly patched up Ethan.

Turns out, he made the right move by trusting them - they used to be the village’s main nurse until it all went to hell and they went to hide in the shadows of their windmill where they, as evidenced, still are today. That being said, not only did they have all the necessary equipment to fix him up, but they also had the skills and knowledge needed to use that equipment.

“There are those friends who borrow money from you and never pay you back and there are those who shoot your wife randomly while you two are trying to have dinner. Two types of friends out there really.“ He sighs, his tired, a thousand yard stare following the path of the steam levitating from the cup that’s been placed in front of him. “I have no time to dwell on that right now though. My daughter is in grave danger and I have no idea where I should even start looking for her.“

Y/N sits down on a chair opposite his, “Well, you’ve already defeated one of the village Lords looking for Rose, process of elimination should reveal where she is - wherever she is, it has to be one of the Lords’ residence. Mother Miranda trusted Lady Dimitrescu most so it’s a wonder why she wasn’t there, but then again, Heisenberg’s factory is damn near impenetrable, one cannot enter unless he wants them to so she could have entrusted her precious cargo to him.”

“How do I get to that fucker?“ Ethan tightens his hand into a fist, squeezing so tightly his knuckles turn white. There’s so much within him, so much that’s happened to him, so much in such a short amount of time and he’s had no time to deal with any of it. He’s a volcano waiting to erupt, but he has to do so at the right time - in front of the right danger to show he’s not hopeless or weak as his opponent may think. “Where do I find him?“

“He’s in the outskirts too just on the other side of the village.“ They sigh, regretting every word they are saying since they know they are just feeding him information on how to get himself in the worst kind of danger he’s probably ever been in. “That key you have, it’s not complete to access his quarters yet. By the looks of it...“ they observe the key Ethan has placed on the table, “You can only get to Lord Donna Beneviento’s estate, and I wouldn’t suggest heading there before you heal at least a bit more. Her and her dolls are a real nightmare. Of course, I haven’t experienced it for myself, but the stories are enough to get an idea.“

“So you’re telling me I have to waste my time with the little fish before I can finally get to Rose? You know how long that’ll take? You know how long she’ll have to be at the mercy of a fucking lunatic until I can finally save her?!“ Ethan snaps, banging his fist against the table, bad idea considering his hand’s been just patched up. The impact sends a jolt of pain up his arm that makes him hiss.

“I get it, I understand, Ethan. But you are a lot less likely to get to your daughter if you’re dead, you know.“ Y/N cautiously explains, their eyes narrowing a bit as they wait for the pearl white bandages to soak crimson, sighing in relief when they don’t. “Speaking of how likely you may or may not be to get to her on time, I’d also have to mention your odds would be significantly higher if you were to receive help from someone else. You’d need someone to have your back throughout all the shit you’re about to go through, especially Heisenberg’s factory where two eyes are not enough to track each and every threat that might pounce at you.“

Calmer now, Ethan gives them a puzzled look, “What are you suggesting?“

“I’m suggesting - well, I’m offering you my partnership.“ They explain, watching his expression change to one of knowing and understanding. “Of course, you’d have to give up one of those guns and hand it down to me, but I think that’s a small price to pay in exchange for an extra pair of eyes and limbs to guard and help you.“

Ethan’s first instinct is to decline. He can’t afford to see another person dying around him or because of him, he wouldn’t be able to stand it. But then again, just like he had no guarantee they wouldn’t turn on him, he has none that they’ll die. Of course, he’ll do everything in his power to keep them and himself alive and they don’t seem like they are in it to half-ass it either. Quite the contrary, they seem perfectly determined and ready to face the same shit he’s about to.

“What do you get in return?“ He asks, his gaze suspiciously measuring each line on their face to gauge their true intentions. He’s a complete stranger to them, they’d have no reason to be this selfless for him, it’s obvious they are aiming at something bigger.

Y/N scoffs, leaning back in their chair with a small bitter smile on their face, their gaze resting on the tabletop and avoiding his, “You really wanna know? I want my revenge - revenge for what they did to this village, to me, to so many people I cared about and to those I didn’t even know. But...” they trail off, pausing to sigh out a heavy sigh before continuing, “But I also wanna redeem myself. I knew I should’ve done all in my power to stop them when their havoc was still on the rise, I knew I should’ve done more, but I didn’t. And now I’ll die trying.”

“You won’t die.“ He says sharply, barely a second after the last word left their lips, “I won’t allow it.“ He adds, taking a bit of the edge off his voice.

Their eyes come up to meet his, searching for what he means, “Does that mean...“

“It sure does, partner.“ Within the blink of an eye, his pistol is on the table, fully loaded and free for their taking, “You just give a green light and we’re off.“

Y/N lets out a sound between a laugh and a gasp as their hands quickly wrap around the gun, looking at it in disbelief before whispering a quick ‘thank you’. Ethan allows them to marvel at it for a bit longer but they don’t wait another second. “Get your ass up, Winters. We have monsters to kill.”

He needn’t be told twice

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sleeping-on-cracking-ice · 3 years

Note

heyo your imagines are amazing and i like reading them so much. i really appreciate you for writing for Alice in borderland as there isn’t a lot of content out there~ can you please write an imagine for niragi where the reader has been at the beach for quite the time and when she gets to know niragi she somehow falls for him because she sees right through him, and that he maybe starts to develop feelings for the reader too because she’s fearless and very confident. if it’s not too much trouble, could you make it a bit suggestive as well? thank you in advance~~

Of course I can! I’m not the best at writing with suggestive themes so I’ll try my best! 😅 I’m sorry but I changed the story line a little bit for it to fit more, so I hope this is still kind of what you had in mind.

Unlovable | Suguru Niragi

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

Character(s): Niragi (ft. Ann, Aguni, Hatter, Mira, Chishiya, Arisu, Last Boss)

Summary: Niragi finally finds you, who loves him for who he is, well, not exactly. And he gets a bit too attached.

Warnings: toxic relationship, suggestive themes, a lot of gaslighting, obsessive themes, a little bit angsty, threatening, choking, swearing, name calling

Word Count: 3.2k

*reader is female

Author’s Note: Sorry this took a while to post. I was busy for the past couple of days so it’s kinda rushed 😣

“Y/N! Come quick!”

You jolted awake as Ann burst into your room, shaking the door frame from the force. You blinked your eyes to adjust to the light, looking at her dazed.

“What?” you murmured, sitting up and out of the comfy sheets on your bed.

“The executives have called a meeting. They say it’s urgent,” she stressed, rushing up to the side of your bed and ripping the duvet off of you.

You shivered and sighed loudly in disappointment. “Why? It’s too early for this shit,” you whined, rolling back onto your side and closing your eyes again. These urgent emergency meetings have become ridiculous, always taking place in the morning when everyone’s still sleeping. You would gladly have quit having the higher place at The Beach if it meant for you to have some peace and quiet.

“Now!” Ann pushed again. You groaned in annoyance and got out of bed. She seemed serious, so you didn’t want to anger her more.

You both quickly made your way to the top floor where the meeting room for the executives was located. You noticed Ann’s heavy breathing and worried expression, making you anxious as to what she thinks could have happened.

Hatter had left the night before to replenish his visa, having a big celebration as he drove off with Aguni and a few more of his men. Things had been becoming more tense as time went on. It felt wrong watching Hatter drive away so reluctantly. You offered to assist him in his game, seeing as you earned yourself a high number at The Beach from clearing many difficult games yourself. But Hatter declined, insisting that he would return to The Beach safe and sound before you knew it.

But unfortunately, he was wrong.

You and Ann rushed into the large room. You saw Arisu and Chishiya standing near the end of the table placed in the middle of the room. You strolled over to them and laid eyes on the scene before you.

There, Hatter laid dead on the table. Limbs spread out lifeless, skin pale and dead. The horrific sight made you feel sick, making you cover your mouth with your hand. The scene almost felt unreal, this shouldn’t have happened. Hatter wouldn’t be dead if you just went with him.

Ann walked over to his body to examine it, but before she even had the chance to touch the bullet wound embedded in his bare chest, Niragi barged into the room with his usual cocky and obnoxious aura filling the air like a bad smell.

“Oi, don’t touch him as you please. You dissection maniac,” he growled.

Your eyes followed him closely. Now that Hatter was gone, people like him could start dangerous trouble at the hotel. But, as long as you said something about it, you would make sure Niragi wouldn’t start any fires that he’s not willing to put out himself.

After all, you were the only person who knew his true self, and how he perceived everyone around him. It was pathetic really. In a way you took pity on him. Such a simple tactic for the brain to protect itself, become a heartless and cold monster towards others so no one could ever do the same to you again.

With Niragi, unfortunately it was hunt or be hunted.

You kept your strong gaze on him as he lifted his eyes to meet yours from across the table for a hot minute. His dark orbs glistened as they locked with yours, making the tension in the room become thicker as every second passed. He smirked in your direction before turning away.

“He was shot by a gun,” Ann stated, breaking the thick silence in the room. She looked over the small hole in his chest in fascination.

“What will happen to The Beach?” a young man asked who was standing nearby you. You stayed silent, not wanting to start anything that may end in chaos. You always had good points and valid arguments, but sometimes you knew when the best time was to bring them up. This was not it.

“I mean it’s only reasonable for the strongest to become the new leader!” Niragi exclaimed over everyone. “We need someone who can take good care of The Beach and keep order,” he yapped on, swinging his sniper rifle all around making a few people flinch when he aimed it at them.

You rolled your eyes at his behaviour. Trust him to be the most opinionated.

“I say, how about Aguni as our new leader,” he suggested, leaning forwards onto the table and watching everyone like a hawk. Aguni held no reaction, keeping his usual cold stone expression while having Niragi speak for him.

After no one reacted, all looking down to the ground to avoid Niragi’s gaze, he stood up straight and pulled a bored expression. “That’s not a good reaction,” he mocked, “Last Boss?”

You glanced over to where the hooded figure stood, watching in fear as he unsheathed his katana sword and rushed over to Ann, holding the deathly sharp blade a few inches from her throat. Your heart leaped to your mouth. If he was to try anything, you were ready to start chaos.

But nothing of the sort happened. Ann simply sighed frustratingly and held up her hand obediently. Niragi hummed, approving.

“This isn’t a majority vote,” Mira hissed from next to him.

Niragi stood and leaned his face close to hers, holding the barrel of his weapon close to her face to threaten her. “But it is! Isn’t it? After all, you’re all free to vote as well.”

One by one, he slowly circled the table, each person being scared for their life the closer he got to them. But you remained calm next to Chishiya, knowing that considering the relationship you have with Niragi, he wouldn’t do anything that would hurt you. He didn’t have the guts to.

As he moved from Chishiya, he finally locked eyes with you. He quickly strolled up to your still frame, stopping suddenly very close to you in an attempt to make you feel threatened. ‘As usual,’ you thought to yourself. ‘The old “I’m taller and bigger than you so I’m stronger” stupid tactic.’

“And what about you princess? Care to raise your hand for a vote for Aguni?” he hissed into your face. You held your neutral expression, becoming bored from this act he was putting on. It was purely for show, and yet wasn’t everyone’s personality? But Niragi, his act of this scary psychotic man angered you to your core.

“What if I don’t?” you snickered, walking towards him in an attempt of intimidation. He took a step back in shock. “It’s not like you need my precious vote, you already have so many.”

Niragi’s usual cocky smirk melted from his face, turning into a frustrated scowl. You felt him put his rifle underneath your chin, forcing you to lock eyes with him. “Be careful with that tongue of yours sweetheart, you wouldn’t want to lose it,” he growled quietly.

His threat made you smirk, almost bringing butterflies into your stomach. “I think you should be more concerned about that head of yours. You wouldn’t want to get it stuck too far up your own ass.”

You flinched as you felt his rough hand shoot from his rifle to your neck, instantly tightening around your throat making you widen your eyes in surprise. You lifted your arm and gripped his wrist in case he tightened his hold anymore. The look on his face was deathly. If looks could kill, you’d be already a few years into the afterlife.

Chishiya stood beside you watching the whole scene. He knew better than to intervene, as he could tell that Niragi wouldn’t ever intentionally permanently hurt you.

Niragi held you still as he leaned down to your ear, his hot breath hitting your sensitive skin. “Shut your fucking mouth you brat. You wouldn’t want me to hurt you too much later, would you?” You cringed as you felt his tongue slide behind the back of your ear, the piercing making you shiver.

“Niragi,” you heard Aguni say, saving you from the public embarrassment of getting felt up by Niragi in front of everyone you knew. “That’s enough, I think she gets the point.”

Niragi grunted in annoyance before loosening his fist on your neck. You sucked in a huge gasp of air, coughing slightly. Chishiya placed a gentle hand on your back in a sign of care, hoping that you’re okay.

Niragi aimed his rifle lazily at Chishiya’s face. “She’s fine, don’t touch her. A little choking is nothing she can’t handle.”

Chishiya immediately took his hand off of you, being taken back by Niragi’s comment.

You stood up straight after recovering, laying your eyes back on Niragi as he continued terrorizing the executive members.

God you hated that man. You hated how much you loved him.

*************

The room was now empty, consisting of no one except for you and Ann, who was still looking over Hatter’s body for any other injuries. You watched curiously, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed.

“Seems a bit weird, doesn’t it?” you spoke up through the silence.

“What does?” Ann answered, not bothering to look at you.

“Someone with a hundred percent winning streak dies now? Just as the tension between the militants and the others was getting to its peak?” you questioned.

Ann rolled her eyes sarcastically and turned towards you. “Took you long enough to figure out. Really? You didn’t suspect that from the start? Even after that shit-show that Niragi pulled earlier?”

You were taken back by her sudden anger. Ann never became mad at you, even if she had a legitimate reason to. You looked at her as she stared into your eyes intensely before sighing and turning back to Hatter.

“Sorry Y/N,” she apologized. “I’m just stressed. This shit is getting too heavy to handle, and now with Hatter gone and Aguni in his place, who knows what will happen to people like you, me, Mira, Chishiya and Alice. They could kill us if they want to.”

Her words hit your heart heavily. It was true. Aguni and his militants were never a particularly predictable bunch. And you weren’t exactly on all their good sides, well, except for Niragi’s.

“Sorry Ann,” you muttered out quietly. You thought it would be best to leave her alone. She obviously was quite distraught from Hatter’s death.

You shuffled out of the room, head held low in despair. Who knew what would happen to this place now? It was like a ticking time bomb only no one knew how long there was left until it exploded.

As you walked through the large door frame that led outside of the meeting room, a sudden grip on your arm brought you out of your thoughts and made you yelp. You were yanked into a hard chest, being held close and tight.

“Hey love. How are you feeling?” the person growled. You looked to see it was none other than Niragi himself. Of course it was, who else would treat you so roughly?

You stared into his ominous eyes, trying to read him. He ran his hand down your back slowly causing you to shiver. “Niragi,” you breathed out. You pushed against his broad chest to separate you. “Sorry, but I’m not in the mood right now.”

You stepped away from him and tried to escape down the hall, but he grabbed your hand before you could go anywhere. “Bullshit. You’re never in the mood. And the sass you were giving me in there in front of everyone says otherwise.” He pulled you back towards him, pushing your head onto his shoulder and nuzzling into your neck. “I didn’t like how you treated me, it made me upset.”

He was lying through his teeth, knowing that making you feel guilty for defending yourself against him would bring him more of your attention. Simple gaslighting, worked every time.

You chuckled against him then leaned back and cupped his face with your hands. He held a sad expression on his face, obviously to make you sympathetic.

“You’re such a big baby,” you laughed. “Try to act so tough and dominant in front of everyone, but look at you now. Crying into my shoulder about your feewings?” you mocked him. Niragi scowled and pulled his head out of your hands. “Shut up, as if you’re any better.”

It was true. That’s why you both clicked together. He was a gaslighting maniac who knew how to put up a fake ‘nice guy’ façade around you and you were a tough and snappy woman, who felt much too much empathy for others.

That’s how you fell into his trap. He used your empathy to his advantage, making you fall in love with him so he could have what he’d always wanted. Someone who loves him for who he is, no matter how many masks he had to put on for them.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, leaning up and pressing a small peck onto his lips. “Can you promise me something?” he suddenly asked after you pulled away from his face.

You grew anxious about what he wanted and nodded your head slowly in hesitation.

“When the chance comes, can we leave The Beach together? Like, run away?” he questioned, snaking his arms around your waist and squeezing tightly.

You laughed at his question, making him frown. He was being completely serious. “And go where Niragi? There’s not exactly a place we can go to.”

“Anywhere,” he answered sharply. “We could find a nice little hideout in Tokyo. Just you and me, no one else.” His grip on your waist tightened, making you flinch in his arms slightly.

He could see you tossing between answers. It wasn’t working, he had to try something else. He put on the fakest sad face he could do and pressed his forehead against yours while pouting. “Please? I promise I’ll take care of you.”

You practically melted as his begging. “Okay,” you sighed.

“Promise me,” he reminded you, running a hand through your soft hair.

There was a short moment of silence before you answered. “I promise.”

*************

You laid in your room with the sheets tossed lazily over you. Niragi was called to go talk to Aguni again before he went to sleep, so you were waiting for him.

Your eyes scanned your book quickly, wanting to finish the chapter you were on before Niragi returned. Because god forbid you having your attention on something that wasn’t him when he was around.

You glanced over at the door when you heard it creep open and Niragi stepped in, placing his sniper rifle carefully on the ground nearby and removing his boots.

“You took your time.” you teased, putting your book on the nightstand and sitting up in bed. Niragi groaned tiredly, stumbling over to your shared bed and collapsed dramatically face down onto the duvet. You giggled at him, running a soft hand though his midnight hair and pulling it out of it’s hair tie.

If he was a cat, he swore he could’ve purred at your touch. It made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. Not having physical affection for years on end does that to a person.

He sat up and crawled over to you. He grabbed your chin and pressed your lips together roughly, running his tongue across your mouth as he did so. You groaned into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck, making him smirk against your lips.

After a few minutes, he detached his lips from yours and started licking and sucking your sensitive skin on your jaw, slowly making his way down your neck. He felt shivers run down his spine as you gripped his shirt in your fist on his back. He loved having this power over you, and having you accept him and love him enough to not fight back.

You leaned your head back and closed your eyes, giving him more access to your neck. As you did so, he placed a hand on your lower back and pulled you towards him, forcing you to lie down on the bed with him hovering over you.

He pulled away from your neck and looked down at you, admiring your anxious expression painted across your face. He chucked. “What’s wrong baby,” he cooed, leaning down and continuing kissing your collarbones.

His voice was dripping in sweetness, so sweet it could’ve made you feel sick. It sounded fake, but you didn’t pick up on it. It was a shame. You saw Niragi as nothing but a victim of his own mind, but you weren’t able to see yourself becoming a victim of it.

“I’m just...” you mumbled out, feeling weak and vulnerable under his touch. “I’m scared Niragi.”

He pulled back again and looked into your eyes with a worried expression. “Why are you scared? It’s just me and you here angel. You’re perfectly safe,” he whispered out, stroking his knuckles down your cheek lovingly.

You knew you loved Niragi, but knowing he can change his personality in a blink of an eye unsettled you. Who knew when he would do that to you? You heard him speak up again.

“We’ve slept together many times before, why are you becoming shy just now?” he teased, lifting a hand and slowly running it up along your tummy underneath your shirt. Your breath hitched as his cold hands made contact, making your stomach muscles tense.

“So sensitive,” he cooed again, snuggling his head into your chest, just above your breasts. “I love you.”

The confession made your heart skip a beat and you tensed. Niragi noticed this, making his body fill with anxiety. Did he say it too soon?

“Sorry,” he mumbled against your shirt. “That was a bit much, you don’t have to say it back,” he gaslighted.

“No,” you cut him off. “I love you too.”

Niragi’s heart filled with warmth and he felt all his nerves tingle around his body. He hadn’t heard that since he was a kid, and hearing you say it did nothing but make him more fall in love.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he sniffed out. You looked down to see him staring at you, tears filling his eyes. It made your heart ache.

He took his body weight off you and hovered himself above you again. “I promise, I won’t let anyone ever hurt you,” he mumbled, voice cracking slightly. His arms that laid on either side of your head acted like a cage. Whether you were trapped willingly or forcefully was beyond your guess.

As he leaned his head down again and pressed his still wet lips against yours, you felt his lanky arms snake around your torso underneath you, keeping you in place.

You laid there, moving your mouths together and holding each other as close as possible. It would’ve almost been romantic and loving if it wasn’t for the context. While one was preying on their victim to achieve what they’ve so desperately wanted their whole life, the other believed that that person was the victim themselves.

Such irony, to love someone who has a ‘unlovable’ personality, when it’s not even the one that you fell in love with.

The one you fell in love with was nothing but one of his many masks. And no one could determine whether he would ever take it off in front of you.

Author’s Note: I’m so sorry this one was actually hard to write. It’s a bit all over the place but I hope it was still enjoyable to read! Also I’m not going to do a Part 2 to this fic, but if you want to read something similar to this kind of yandere theme with Niragi, read my other fic called You’re Everything You Once Hated. I’m going to be posting a Part 2 of that one soon.

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