#harm to reader

[comfy-writer]

Talk to Me Please! Soulmate AU

Warning: Sad! Angst! Harm to the reader! xreader! xEijiro Kirishima! Scars on the reader!

Info: Y/N means your name, and h/c means your hair color. L/N means your last name and e/c means your eye color as well!

A/N This is my third post so far! Thanks for the likes on the Pirate Bakugou story! I love fantasy so I shall be writing more mha fantasy! This is something I threw together in about an hour, so if it's bad I am sorry about that. Here is a sad story for Kirishimaxsoulmate reader!

Feeling the pain of your soulmate sucks. You feel their physical pain, so when your soulmate was hurt you became hurt as well. Feeling all these wounds and scars does take a toll on one’s body. Each time you feel pain, your soulmate does as well. Eijiro Kirishima was always worried about his soulmate. Ever since he was 10 he was terrified and wanted to help her. Distress her pain somehow. But he never knew her so each night he cried crying out for her.

~~~10 years old~~~

Eijiro smiles while he talks to his friend. His crimson red eyes look at his friend. He quickly feels a stabbing pain on his side making his eyes go wide in surprise. A yelp escaping Eijiro. “I-I have to go give me a second!” Kirishima smiles weakly running off to the bathroom and abandoning his birthday party.

The black haired boy shuts the door to a stall and lifts up his shirt, a gnarly cut strides across his side covering his rib-cage. His black hair slowly falls as he looks down examining the cut. ‘What!” He screams before he calms his body down.

Eijiro takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, his head is now leaned against the cold stall door. Eijiro’s red eyes pile with warm tears and he looks down at the scar. “My soulmate. Is she okay?!” He asks himself clenching his teeth in pain. He feels terrible, jolting sensation run through his body.

Eijiro takes a deep breath slicing the air with his breaths, each time his chest goes up and down. His hand runs on his skin, that was sliced a moment ago before being healed and he sputters out another breath in the air. “The wound is healed? Maybe my soulmate turned ten before me.” He breathlessly replaces to himself in the air of the bathroom stall silence.

Eijiro glances at the cut striding across his skin and tears prick his red crimson eyes again. He stands there crying. His first double digits birthday and he is worried about his soulmate. Scared to death for her wellbeing.

~~~~~16 years old~~~~~

Eijiro looks at the many cuts on his arm. He is scared for his soulmate again. Open soars across his body as he tries to cover it up. Changing his hero costume to have a shirt, so he wasn’t worried about what the others thought. Eijiro’s body patterns with them and he always cries, bringing a smile to his warm friendly face when his eyes hide something different, something deeper inside. Pushing the feelings away and in his chest. Like a vault that couldn’t escape.

“Ugh, again?” He talks to himself pulling a shirt up and over his head. Eijiro gels up his hair before running out his door of the UA dorm room. Eijiro feels a terrible nagging feeling in the back of his head. He tries to cope with it as the slight breeze of the make belive wind wooshing against UA fills his mind.

He continues to run down the hall as he sees his friend Bakugou, talking to a girl. She has beautiful h/c hair that has locks on it. Her e/c orbs looking at the blond’s red ones. Her beautiful s/c skin glimmering in the slight sun that peaks over in the shadows of the UA dorm hall. The living space is occupied by Deku, Occhako, Todoroki, Momo, Mina, Hagurke, and Oijiro. Crowding the 16-year-old girl who smiles in response to the questions she is getting asked.

“Hey, leave L/N alone. She just got here. She’s a new student” Aizawa says in his yellow sleeping bag. Completely zipped up like a slug crawling over to the UA students who give Y/N warm smiles like crazy. 

“Who is she?” Bakugou asks crossing his arms as Eijiro walks up to the group. A small smile spreads across his face and a toothy grin plasters on it. “I am Y/N L/N! I got transferred here.” You smile at everyone. Many students give you a wave or others like Mina, and Hagurke crowds you and ask you questions about boys, or if you do your makeup.

You nod your head once in a while and shake your head a lot more than you pleased yourself. Beneath the grasp of it all. Eijiro stands there breathlessly for a moment wearing his long sleeve black shirt. His eyes move downward and the reds of his hair move with them as he tilts it. Your hoodie is a little rolled up as wounds, on your spread across, scarring,  bruises. Many are bruises that are purple piling up on one another while others are open sores and cuts that are pink and some blood peaks through the skin. “So L/N! What’s your quirk?!” Midoriya asks you eyeing your eyes with a serious intention. 

Midoriya holds a notebook in his hand and he gets ready to jot down information on you. His pen ready at the marks. You glance at the red haired boy and see him looking at the blisters, soars, and bruises on you rolled up sleeve. You avert the red haired boy’s gaze and you shake Midoriya away, your hoodie quickly pulled down once you grasped the thought of it again.

“I loved talking to you Midoriya but I have to go. I gotta go bye guys” You say smiling as you look at Aizawa who is unzipped in his sleeping bag and wearing his all-black outfit paired with his hair now being tied back in a bun. Most of the fan girls think your new teacher was a hottie. But you just don’t understand, most are minors while he is a fully grown adult!

“Your room is down the hallway.” Aizawa says with a grumpy voice. You follow along him and you can feel Eijiro’s gaze still on you even when you turn your back to him leaving him alone. Many images cross your mind on what he was going to say or do once he sees you.

Aizawa walks you to your dorm room but he knew. He knew what Eijiro saw, getting you worked up so of course he gruffly mumbles, “Don’t worry Kirishima won’t tell a soul.” You let out a nod followed by a sigh escaping past your lips. The sound filling your heart so you can breath once more.

“Do you think-” You start off before Aizawa opens up your dorm room. Pulling you inside and shutting the door. “Kirishima won’t tell anyone L/N, I promise. He has the same wounds on his body that you do.” Aizawa says to you. Your eyes widen in a second and Aizawa’s footsteps leave, your mind filling with thoughts.

You ramble under your breath as you feel your nervousness take over you. “What if Kirishima gets pissed off about me giving him scarrs over the years? Or-or him being mad that I just walked away?! What if he gets mad and asks me questions!? I don’t want to relive my stupid trauma I escaped from just for it to follow me at UA!” You scream grabbing a pillow from the door and yelling your heart out into it.

~~~~3 months later~~~~

So you have been avoiding Kirishima since the first time you saw him coming into UA. He sees you at times and his eyes fill with sadness and regret as he quickly tries to follow you and talk to you, his soulmate. He tries but you run off. You haven’t heard him talk at all and each time you glance at him you run off avoiding the man like crazy. But, you're scared he is going to judge you, your scars. You are scared he is going to judge you as a whole and the terrible history you come from.

Your h/c locks fall in front of your face as you open the door to your dorm room. Your tired eyes feel like they could close as you yawn a little. You close the door and your feet carry you to your bed. There your eyes go wide, Eijiro Kirishima stands in front of you and he crosses his arms as his red hair is no longer up and gelled. Just normal and it looks very soft making you think about it for a moment or two.

Kirishima’s eyes look like they are going to be on the edge of tears with the way you are looking at him. “I-I.” He starts off with his lip quivering and his “manly” voice falters. He closes his eyes before he starts up again still closing his eyes tight, the warm tears roll down his face and to the ground.“

I-I…..Y/N we need to talk.” Kirishima says softly his tears still coming. You look at him and shake your head as you reach for the door. Your hand grasps the handle and Kirishima grabs your wrist quickly reacting his red eyes pleading with yours for you to understand. “This isn’t a

request. Please. I am your soulmate. You avoid me.” Kirishima says as he pulls you away from the door, and you fight against him.

You try to keep your calm and you look at him still seeing him cry, “Y/N listen. You are my soulmate. I feel your pain, I know what is happening to you so tell me please. I will listen.” Kirishima eyes you. “Y/N, I am begging you. I know that someone hurt you, so let me help.” He pleads with you.

You take a sigh and a world renowned sigh escapes past your lips. “You can’t help Kirishima. So leave.” You beckon him trying to get him to remove his hold on your wrist. 

“Please.” He begs once more, his tears pool in his eyes and he cries. 

“Fine! You want to know!? My dad! My dad hurt me! I was only 5 when he did, he hurt me with his own hands, and used bear bottles just to make it peirce through my skin! Happy!? I try so hard to not let anyone else see. It looks like I hurt myself but I don’t! My father was sick enough to hurt me and I have to live wih the scarring! The physical pain still there! The mental! That has been hurt for so long!” You scream at him. 

Kirishima looks at you with a sympathetic gaze and you feel, water dripping down your cheeks. More make their way down. A sob escapes you and you cry as you try to shake his hand off your wrist.

Kirishima doesn’t let you go and his other hand wraps you in a hug. You feel his hand on your wrist die off and his hand holds the back of your head, running his fingers through. The other holds your abdominal area where he holds you against you. You stuff your face in his chest and your sobs fill the room. More tears peak their way down and every once in a while he’ll say things along the lines of, “ Your okay, I promise.” to “Calm down. Everything’s okay.” While that wasn’t happening he rubbed his fingers against your head running his fingers through.

You continue to cry and feel like a child in front of your own soulmate. “Thank you Kirishima.” You sniffle moving your head away from his chest and looking into his eyes. “No problem, Y/N.” Kirishima smiles softly the spikes of his spiky teeth show a little.

There you are, looking at each other. With your soulmate beside you. Tears still spill like a stream but you feel safe. More safer than you did when just living at UA, away from your father. You feel safe knowing that your soulmate doesn’t blame you for the scars he has also but he is just willing to listen, comfort, and console you. While he went and dealt with that pain too, he still keeps smiling for you, Y/N L/N.

[ask-the-clergy-bc]

Can we get a look at Special's more darker side? Like maybe something happend to his S/o and him losing his mind over it?

I never get tired of getting to do the darker/evil themes of Ghost! It's always fun to explore both the sinister side along with the goofy and light hearted!

(Triggers/Notes: Ambiguous Reader Species, more serious themes, reader almost sacrificed)

The Dark Side of Special Ghoul - Almost Losing His Mate

Very few people understand the sheer power Special holds. Many tend to dismiss him as just the 'funny interview' Ghoul, or another servant under Sister Imperator. But truthfully, he is the most powerful ghoul in the entire ministry. He is the Ghoul who watches over all others, and is the true right hand to Lucifer. Special is so powerful that he might as well not even be a ghoul, and should by all means be some sort of Archdaemon.

Who you know is 'Phil' is actually only a glimpse of a being that can never be truly controlled.

That being said, he loves his job. The only thing keeping Special from turning the world into chaos is his loyalty to Lucifer... and you. And believe me, if he really wanted he could alter reality to suit his tastes.

Special does not get terribly close to others. Mainly because a majority of beings, ghouls and humans, either find him annoying or off putting. People tend to want to meet him because of his interviews, but find his aura is much different in person. But not you. You were always different... You loved every part of him.

His unnatural aura was only a perk to you. You didn't want to shy away from him. You wanted to UNDERSTAND him. And he could sense that genuineness from you. You and Special were inseparable, and he would burn the entire clergy down for you.

One day he almost did just that.

The Ministry decided that it wanted to control him fully. Special knew this time would come, but was devastated it came at the price of your well being. You were almost a sacrifice on the alter bed, the offering that could reign him in under the thumb of the Clergy. Through the aether he heard your pleas for mercy as you were chained to the bloody stone.

Special's true powers came out that day. The skies warped, walls crumbled, everything perceivable to the eye distorted. For the worst hour of anyone's life, Lincopia was sucked into an alternate reality that threatened to disintegrate every living being in it. Quite literally. Everyone was a heart beat from being ripped apart by this all consuming void.

Only two things saved the ministry from being wiped off the face of the Earth; You still being alive, and Omega.

Omega is the one ghoul to talk any reason into Special on a good day. But the head quintessence ghoul pulled every punch to get Special to listen. Omega rescued you and returned you to Special, surprisingly before Special ripped the alter room into oblivion. Special STILL wanted to destroy all the humans who attempted to take you.

But with Omega's reasoning and your cries for your mate to listen, Special finally relented. Slowly the darkness retracted from the abbey and the world was right again... accept for a few structures that need to be rebuilt. Almost like you all were never sucked into the void.

The scariest part was Special excitedly asking if you wanted to go get pancakes with him. He was starving! Omega could come too!!

You agreed, if not only for Omega's sake... pancakes were the least you could give Omega for SAVING THE ENTIRE MINISTRY!!

No one ever attempted to lay a finger on you again, after this.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

katsuki doesn’t like when his idiot loudmouth friends (as they insist on calling themselves) call him.

and especially not when you’re napping.

his face that had been calmly drifting through his feed with eyes occasionally drifting to your sleeping form in his arms, scrunches up when he sees a call from kaminari. he scoffs and quickly swipes the notification away, seeing the missed call notification and sighing in relief when he sees that you’re still undisturbed and dreaming. he’s about to press a kiss to your forehead but his lips barely make contact before his phone rings again.

this time he growls, quickly hanging up but the damage has already been done. you’re awake and he swears he’ll kill kaminari with his bare hands next time he sees him.

“shh, shh..” he shushes softly, you whine a little and he feels his heart tremble. fuck do you look cute when you wake up, even though you swear otherwise but you’re stupid and you don’t know what you’re talking about.

“mm..who is it..?” you mumble, going to rub at your eye but he stops you, placing your hand right where it originally was and threading his fingers with yours, he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“nothing, s’no one.” he ensures softly against it, “jus’ some random extra that’s got the wrong number.”

you whine again, disapprovingly this time and your eyebrows furrow, you raise a hand up to press against his cheeks. “you shouldn’t..” you interrupt yourself with a yawn and katsuki thinks you’ve never looked cuter “you shouldn’t call people extra’s, katsu..s’not nice.”

he has half a mind to roll his eyes, you wouldn’t say that if you knew who was calling he’s sure, but he simply leans into your touch and decides to hold his tongue, though a snort manages to leak out.

“okay, baby. won’t do it anymore, i promise. go back to sleep now, yeah ?” he soothes and you thankfully offer him a sweet “mhm.” and a nod and after a bit of him pressing his nose to your skin and his rough palms on your cheek you’re out like a light again. he huffs a sigh of relief, slowly managing to untangle himself from your grip and walking off to sit on your office chair.

it feels colder now and katsuki wants nothing more than to go lay back down into the little love nest you’ve made on your bed, he sighs again and presses his phone to his ear. his foot taps angrily against your padded floor when he hears ringing and an unmistakable voice through the speaker. his eyebrows furrow and a scowl forms on his face.

“i should fucking kill you dunce face.”

[katsukistofu]

peanut butter and jellyfish

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ h. shinsou x fem reader. 5k words — fluff. cursing. comforting insecurities. friends to secret lovers.

⭑ shenanigans with your not-so-secret boyfriend ft. sleepovers with eri, a cat eating pizza on you at 3am, your classmates being nosy, and an aquarium date.

note: your quirk is forensic sight! so ur gc name is the way it is bc ur eyes lol get it

You choke back a laugh as a very focused Eri puts yet another sticker on Hitoshi’s face. 

Snacks and pillows are strewn around the inside of the blanket fort the three of you finished building moments before. Stiller than a rock, your calm best friend sits there cross-legged so that Eri can give him a makeover of unicorns, stars, and rainbows. 

“Do you think he looks pretty yet?” Eri tilts her head at you.

“Like a real-life princess.” You giggle. “Good job, Eri!” 

“Yay!” She happily high fives the hand you hold up for her. “Do you feel pretty yet, Hito-nii?”

“I feel so bonita.” Hitoshi deadpans, sending you two into another fit of giggles.

“You were pretty already, Toshi,” you coo, rubbing a thumb over the sticker of a cat making sushi on his cheekbone. Mr. Aizawa must have bought that one for her.

Hitoshi pretends to shyly gaze at you from under his long lashes. “Aw, really?”

His lips curve into a lazy smile, and a heat that you’re all too familiar with rises up your neck, you turn away–a little too quickly, to Hitoshi’s amusement.

“Nevermind you’re ugly.”

He laughs and the heat creeps up to your cheeks.

Such a simple sound, yet that soft, husky voice of his always manages to make your insides a mushy mess, even when you had painfully tripped over his cat, Celery, when he transferred and first moved into the dorms with your class.

The normally stoic, reserved purple-haired boy had doubled over with an uncontrollable wheeze, supporting himself on the sofa as your groaning self was sprawled across the floor. 

God, they were lucky they were both cute.

Yet, you couldn’t help but smile as he reached a hand out to help you up, the other still covering his mouth. 

That was the first time you made him laugh, and now, you’ve heard it so many times that you could finally stop counting on both your hands’ fingers but you still wanted more.

“Want me to paint your nails, Eri?” You ask, scooting over to your bedroom’s drawer. 

You open it, your own light blue nails painted a color that reminds you of the sea against the pastel pink of the treasure box you take out. It had a heart-shaped diamond on the latch. 

The heavy box was filled with a collection of nail polish the girls in your class usually used for their sleepovers as well, and new bottles, mostly varying shades of apple red, started mysteriously appearing the day after Eri said she had never gotten painted her nails before. 

“Yes!” Eri’s eyes sparkle. “Can I please have matchy nails with Hito-nii?”

“Of course, sweetie.” You smile. She was adorable. 

Hitoshi rubs the back of his neck. “You sure you want yours black this time, Eri?”

“Yes!” She huffs stubbornly. “Like dad’s clothes and those things under your eyes!”

“Hey!” He protests. She shares a mischievous look with you and you both giggle, catching the pillow Hitoshi gently throws at you. 

“Oreo wouldn’t treat me like this.” Hitoshi reaches out to ruffle Eri’s hair and she squeals in protest, batting his hand away. 

Eri holds up the oversized panda plushie he was talking about. It was comically bigger than her, and you had to bite back a laugh.

The moment you two spotted it in the claw machine outside Shinsou’s favorite cat cafe near campus, you knew you had to win it to add to her ever growing collection of stuffed animals.

With a grin, you remember the huge sigh of relief Shinsou let out when it finally fell into the chute.

“Duh he wouldn’t ‘cause you’re his twin!”

Hitoshi mock gasps. “Take that back.” And tickles her neck, barely dodging as you throw the pillow he threw earlier back at him. 

“Woah!”

Except much, much harder.

“Don’t worry Eri, I'll protect you!” You grab another nearby pillow and throw it at him, which he easily catches in mid-air with one hand like it was a frisbee.

“Aw.” You pout. Mr. Aizawa was training him a little too good now.

Eri pats your arm to console you. “It’s okay I appre-shee—apree-shee—“

“Appreciate?” You offer, and her face brightens as she nods.

“Appree-shee-ate. You. For trying.” She finishes shyly.

“Aw, thank you Eri. I appreciate you too.” 

Hitoshi’s eyes soften at the sight of you two. 

“What about me?”

You scowl. “You can go duck yourself, Toshi.”

“Love you too.”

Eri suddenly gasps. 

“Dad says that to Uncle Zashi too!”

Despite already knowing the answer, Hitoshi and you turn to look at her suspiciously.

“…Which one?”

As if he knows you’re talking about him, Aizawa yells down the hallway.

“Eri, brats, pizza’s here!”

───────── 

“Can I have another hug?” Hitoshi asks coyly after class one day. 

The bell had just rung, and you roll your eyes at his leaning form on the wall of the almost empty hallway. 

Everyone was leaving for lunch.

Except you two, but that was Hitoshi’s fault.

“I just gave you one!”

“Oh no.” He places a dramatic palm to his forehead. “I think I’m going to pass out because of someone if I don’t get a hug in the next five seconds.”

“Greedy ass.” You sigh, wrapping your arms around his waist. 

He hides a grin, shuffling closer to close the gap between your bodies. 

Hitoshi smells like fresh linen with hints of sunshine, probably from his daily bike ride he took around campus before class started, and the coffee he brewed this morning. 

A sense of comfort settles into your bones as the familiar scent envelopes you, and you breathe it in. 

He softly tucks your head under his chin as you nuzzle your face deeper into his chest, your headache from taking the quiz in Ectoplasm’s class earlier now long gone.

“Did you know that when cats see that it's raining outside a window, they go to another window in the same room to check if it's still raining outside?” Hitoshi randomly whispers.

“I did not know that.” You giggle. His lips feel ticklish on your hair. “Does Celery do that too?”

“All the time.” Hitoshi grins. “I have a video from yesterday’s storm, I’ll show you in the cafeteria.”

“Ooh okay!”

He straightens, and takes your hand, your fingers easily lacing through his as you both start to head in the direction of the dining hall. 

When you trip over nothing, he snorts, already expecting it, and catches your waist before you take a fall that will be difficult for your ego and your knees to recover from.

“Careful,” he says as you clutch onto his school uniform in relief, and you swear that already deep, smooth voice of his drops an octave on purpose, almost sending you to the ground again.

Hitoshi’s thumb is still tracing small circles on the back of your hand as the both of you join the line for the traditional school lunch. You could try a different cuisine tomorrow. On today’s menu was miso seaweed soup with a side of grilled fish and a milk bread roll along with, of course, rice.

You feel a vibration on the side of your leg, and for the umpteenth time this school year you thank UA for adding pockets to the school uniform’s skirts as you slip your phone out. The jellyfish charm Hitoshi got for your birthday last year dangles from your case.

Surprise, surprise, it’s the class group chat.

-forklift uncertified -

it’s barbie bitch 

guysss guess what i sawwww

invisi-girl 

IS IT TODOROKI IN A PINK TUTU

 

pikachew

girl what 

invisi-girl 

u guys don’t get the vision

i saw it in a dream last night

the rock 

nah i get it dude

that would be so manly

ice spice 

I would not be completely opposed to the idea

invisi-girl 

SEE

it’s barbie bitch 

it’s even better >_<

it’s barbie bitch 

hitoshituckingyourhair

behindearwithasoftsmile.png

mochi cheeks

OHMYGOD!?1?2?2

SOCUTEEEEETES

airpods with wires

i saw that

airpods with wires 

can yall not flirt before lunch 

next time i’m gonna throw 

up before i get to eat

sue you 

AWWWW OUR LITTLE BABYS ALL GROWN UP

forensic balls [you]

FUCK U GUYS IM 17

yaomomo

exactly

a Baby :)

forensic balls [you]

yaoyao ur supposed

to be on my side </3

yaomomo 

sorry my love i cannot 

deny the facts </3

pikachew

Nahhh only shinsou can call her that guys ;))))

airpods with wires

wah wah wah

forensic balls [you]

one more word and i’m gonna change the gc name to fornite jiggle physics 

sue you

NO

yaomomo

No thank you

my chemical romance

what a mad banquet of darkness

it’s barbie bitch

babe look me in the

eyes this isn’t like you 

forensic balls [you]

try me. 

pikachew

DO ITTTTTTT

forensic balls [you]

ok just bc u told me to 

i won’t now 

scotch tape 

dayum rip denks

forensic balls [you]

also not my fault u guys 

have early ass birthdays smh

shirt guy

Senior citizen core fr

forensic balls [you]

ily midoriya

shirt guy

ilyt pookie xx 

kazoo-ki

Girl u aint slick

shirt guy

You’re so late omg

pikachew

bro has us on mute

kazoo-ki

shut up dunce face

kazoo-ki

How tf do I change my name

mochi cheeks

LMFAO

wiki-how

Bakugo it is fairly simple. 

wiki-how

First you click on your profile, then your personal settings. 

wiki-how

From there you press “Change Display Name” and you should be able to enter your name of preference. 

kazoo-ki 

K

better than you

Thanks glasses ig

wiki-how

You are very welcome.

kiri the rock

nice one dude!

sue you

wow egotistical much

better than you

You wish yours was as big as mine

pikachew

that’s what he said

it’s barbie bitch

omg it just hit me

it’s barbie bitch

the first person to 

finally get bitches in our class 

it’s barbie bitch

i’m so happy i could cry

pikachew

I GET BITCHES

sue you

yeah over the screen 

we're talking irl

pikachew

leave me and my otome games alone

forensic balls [you]

real 

forensic balls [you]

AND IM NOT DATING HITOSHI

it’s barbie bitch

HITOSHI????????

airpods with wires

first name basis is crazy

forensic balls [you]

fuck i mean *shinsou

scotch tape

y’all smell that

the rock

peeeyew

pikachew

smells like sum bullshiiii

kazoo-ki

Could’ve fooled me

yaomomo

You aren’t??? :(

yaomomo

But I wrote a reminder to wish 

you two happy anniversary and 

even bought tea to celebrate!

forensic balls [you]

….for what date

yaomomo

April 1st :(

forensic balls [you]

………………

airpods with wires  

@ it’s barbie bitch we can see u

across the cafeteria u are BAWLING

eyebags

what the fuck

Hitoshi bites back a laugh as your widened eyes meet his, glancing up from your phone.

“Not dating, huh?” He grins.

You groan and pinch his arm. “I panicked okay! I didn’t know what to tell them.”

“Hmm, do you want me to?”

“I mean, only if you want to.” You shyly play with his fingers. 

“I kind of like us being a secret from them for a little longer. It feels… nice.”

Hitoshi smiles. “I know what you mean.” He wrinkles his nose. “Though they’re so nosy it looks like they figured it out already.”

“Pffft, yeah.” Mina could definitely sniff out a relationship from miles away, no matter how much PDA you tried to sneakily do in empty hallways.

Hitoshi squeezes your hand in reassurance.

“I like it too.” He leans over, and your eyes are forced to meet the dark violet of his.

The side of Hitoshi’s soft-looking lips, courtesy of the strawberry chapstick he stole from you before class this morning, quirk up as he looks down at you with soft eyes, the ones he reserves for you and random cats he sees on the road.

“Chapstick thief,” you mutter.

“Oh, you want it back?” Hitoshi grins. “Kiss it off me then.”

Your cheeks grown warm. “Not here!”

“Good,” He smirks.

“I prefer keeping you all to myself, anyway.”

   ───────── 

“What’s wrong?” 

He’s crouching down so that your eyes have no choice but to meet his from your spot on the bean bag.

He gently pushes the switch in your hands down to your lap and pokes your thigh. You squirm away ticklishly. 

“Tell me.”

“No.” You huff, picking your switch back up. “I just wanna play Stardew, leave me alone.”

“Darling.”

Your face flushes at the pet name, and he smirks. His secret weapon still works without fail. Hitoshi didn’t even need to activate his quirk to have you under his thumb. 

“You’re not going to feel better if you keep it in. Tell me what’s wrong.”

His nails are still pink, you faintly notice, trying to distract yourself from your very attractive, very insistent boyfriend in front of you with his comforting hands placed on your thighs.

You painted his left hand, and Eri painted his right at the last sleepover you had together. She had insisted that he should match nails with her this time, since she matched with him last week.

It was already terrible and impressive that Hitoshi was a people-reader, even worse that he knew what to do to make you fold so easily and open up.

Curse you Hitoshi, you and your disposition for healthy communication.

You should have never recommended that therapist to him.

“I don’t know,” you finally mumble. He tilts his head, showing you that he’s listening. 

“I just feel like I don’t deserve it.”

“Deserve what, sweetheart?” He asks. The softness in his voice is unbearable and what you've been bottling up for weeks finally spills out.

“I feel like I don’t deserve it when good things happen to me.”

Hitoshi blinks, then lets out a snort. Which turns into a full blown laugh coming from his chest.

You shove his face away and he falls on his butt, still chuckling. 

“You’re making fun of me!” You say indignantly.

“Sorry, sorry, I just–” He coughs, and takes a breath to recollect himself. 

“You say a lot of dumb shit and I think that's the worst thing I’ve heard you say.”

You pout. “I’m feeling very invalidated right now.” Hitoshi rolls his eyes, and his hands reclaim their spot on your skin, except this time he’s gently cupping your face in his hands. 

He’s not used to comforting people, but you can see that he’s trying.  

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, and you inhale sharply. “You’re kind, you’re intelligent, and I see you try so hard everyday. You always do a good job when you set your sights on something. Why don’t you deserve good things?”

“I don’t know.” Your gaze is numbly pinned to the silver chain around his neck, the one with a little crescent moon on it that he wears everyday, not even taking it off when he goes to sleep. The one you gave to him. 

“That’s okay.”

His thumbs caress your cheeks, and you think you can breathe a little easier. 

“Let's think of it this way,” Hitoshi says, still cupping your cheeks, grounding you. “It’s not about whether you deserve it or not. Do you want it?”

You finally meet his eyes, and answer with a voice shakier than you’d like it to be. 

“I do. I want good things for myself.”

“Atta girl,” Hitoshi says with a proud quirk of his lips. 

You stare at him, your heart suspended in your chest, feeling better but still looking a bit unsure.

Hitoshi notices this from the way you start biting the inside of your cheek, and he leans his forehead against yours. You freeze. 

He smells like fruit, like freshly washed blueberries and those ripe strawberries in the kitchen in the dorm’s fridge. “That’s more than enough. We can work from there.”

There’s still a worried furrow between your eyebrows.

“Come on, sweetheart. We can go to the aquarium you love this weekend.”

He smirks as you perk up at that, drinking up the rare, shy expression suddenly on your face again, and leans down to your ear. 

“You’re so easy,” Hitoshi whispers. 

You grumble, you could hear that stupid grin in his voice.

“Sorry, I can't hear you with your face in my chest.”

You raise your head to glare at him and his heart soars. There was his girl.

God, his smug face was starting to irritate you more and more. "I said that if you were my husband I'd poison your tea!" 

“If you were my wife, I'd drink it."

   ───────── 

-thot pockets -

it's barbie bitch

omg guess who i just saw 

cuddling in front of the tv

it's barbie bitch

youwrappedlikeaburritoinhitoshisarms.png

dating allegation #1 

MINA WTF DELETE THAT

dating allegation #1 

WHY R U STALKING US

[dating allegation #2 saved an image]

dating allegation #1 

BRO WHOS SIDE ARE YOU ON

dating allegation #1 

PURPLE MINION LOOKING BITCH

dating allegation #2

ok forensic penis

dating allegation #2

who changed my user

pikachew

me

cuz u guys are NOT beating 

them :laughcry::laughcry:

ice spice

I am just confused as to why 

you two are sitting on each other 

ice spice

When the rest of the couch 

appears to be unoccupied

ice spice

Perhaps this is a new 

procreation method?

mochi cheeks

TODORKIWHATHAHVDHSHA

pikachew

LMDFAOOOOOOOOO

ice spice

? 

dating allegation #1 

WHATTHEFUKC

the rock

never change bro 

sue you

IACTAULKYLCANT BREATHE HELP

it’s barbie bitch

ME NEITEHHR

dating allegation #2

Whenever my eyebags get darker

dating allegation #2

Just know I blame it on all of you

   ───────── 

“Celery?” You mutter, rubbing your bleary eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Mrow.” The cat continues eating the slice of… pizza? On your chest.

It looks like the one that you and Hitoshi ordered earlier after quizzing each other for Present Mic’s exam.

 

“I love you so much but I am so confused.”

You reach for your phone to text Hitoshi, your still-asleep hands fumbling a bit on the nightstand.

toshi <3 [12 hrs ago]

us 

you [12 hrs ago]

literally us <3

toshi <3 [12 hrs ago]

want to order takeout and 

watch ouran highschool after

we study for tmrws exam

you [12 hrs ago]

yes please omg

you [now – 03:24]

hey

can u explain why ur daughter

is eating pizza on my boobs

at 3am

toshi [03:30]

whar

?

toshi [03:31]

OHfMGOD

CELERU

Not even five minutes later, he’s knocking on the door to your room. You open it, and the sight of a very sleepy looking Hitoshi greets you. His already unruly bedhead is even messier than usual and you’re pretty sure he’s wearing his shirt backwards. Did he put it on before coming over? 

Wait.

You blink, long and hard, banishing the thoughts of a groggy, very shirtless Hitoshi lying in his bed, with the light of his phone screen illuminating his handsome features as he replies to your text. Those four hours of sleep must finally be hitting you.

Hitoshi sees you blinking, and takes it as a sign you’re still in shock at the pizza monster in your lap.

He gives an awkward pat to your shoulder in reassurance.

“I think this is just how she shows affection.” Hitoshi stares down at Celery fondly.

The way you stroke her fur so softly makes his chest feel warm and tingly.

“Does she eat leftover pizza off your chest at three in the morning?”

“...No.”

“Hah. She said she likes me better. ” You smirk victoriously. “Isn’t that right sweetie?”

The calico cat purrs as you scratch her ears, a bit of tomato sauce under her chin. Hitoshi exaggeratedly puts his hand over his heart at this scene of betrayal.

“Seriously? Celery, I took you off those streets and raised you like I was the one pregnant with you for nine months.”

“Mrow.” She bumps her head against your hand.

“Pfft, give it up Toshi. It’s time for you to hand over the adoption papers.”

Hitoshi rubs the back of his neck. “Or we could just share custody.”

“What?” Your cheeks grow warm. “You want me to be her mom?”

“I mean you kind of already are. Look at her,” he says, eyes softening as he looks at the two of you. 

Celery has her paw on your arm. After eating until her little tummy was full, she was already starting to doze off.

“She takes after me.”

You let out a derisive snort.

“Yeah you looked just like that after our binge marathon today too."

“Not in that way.”

He smirks at your confused reaction.

“Then what do you mean–”

At that moment, Celery decides it’s the perfect time to snuggle into your tank top, smearing what’s left of the pizza on her face all over it.

Hitoshi’s eyes widen. He laughs, covering his mouth.

You’ve never been so glad you chose to wear black to sleep.

   ───────── 

“Trouble child, you’re here.”

“Hi Mr. Aizawa.” You roll your eyes. “When are you going to stop calling me that, it’s getting old.”

“When you stop getting into trouble.”

“Okay, that’s fair.”

“The kid’s almost ready.” He snorts. “About damn time. Been up since six.”

“He has?” Your eyes widen. “For what?”

Your teacher smirks. “Nerves. Isn’t this his, what, tenth time taking you out though?”

A flustered Hitoshi suddenly appears from behind him with a light pink dusting his cheeks and steers Aizawa back to the door. “O-okay dad that’s enough.” 

He’s cutely dressed in a soft-looking grey cardigan over a white shirt and black wide-legged pants. 

This had to be the most boyfriend he’s looked, ever, and he looked very boyfriend all of the time. 

“Hitoshi?” You do a little twirl for him in your own outfit. “Fire or nah?”

He looks up from his phone, where he’s googling the bus route to the aquarium, except his eyes linger. Without skipping a beat, he responds.

 “Fire.”

“Toshi, you’re staring.”

“Of course I’m staring.” He says it with a tone like 'what else would I be doing?'

You shyly fidget with the edge of your shorts. “Why?”

“Because you’re beautiful.”

Hitoshi reaches out a hand, like he hasn't just casually left you breathless, and his own eyes soften as he notices your starry-eyed look. 

“Let’s go, you crybaby.”

“Damn. I was going to say you look handsome too, but I don’t remember being the one who sobbed my eyes out watching Your Name last night.”

The tips of his ears turn red.

“Shut up.”

“Was like our fifth rewatch too.”

“Shut up before I kiss you.”

"Is that a threat or a promise?"

"Both."

‧₊˚ 🐚 ✩ ₊˚ 🌊 ⊹ 𓇼

Hitoshi’s lips twitch as he sees your eyes light up at the sight of the sign pointing in the jellyfish exhibit’s direction. “You’re adorable.”

“Thanks.” You grin. “You’re slow.”

You take him by the arm, your brain faintly registering how muscular his bicep is despite holding it so many times, and drag him along. 

In their tanks, the glow of the moon jellies fills the darkness in front of them as other visitors murmur around you two in awe. Blue light reflects off the water and through the glass, illuminating your boyfriend’s dreamy features and you can’t help but admire how pretty he looks.

Hitoshi turns from watching the jellyfish to face you, fingers now lacing through yours. You don’t look away. 

A soft smile flickers across his face when he catches you staring at him.

“This reminds me of when we first met.”

You smile. You remember. He was the one Mina relentlessly teased you for staring at, which you completely denied at the time.

“Why’re you so thirsty?” You remember her whispering into your ear at the Sports Festival in your first year. The both of you were sitting in your class’s designated spots in the stands.

Your eyes had widened, scandalized. 

“I am not!”

“Please. You’re totally staring at him.”

“Who?”

“Shinsou Hitoshi.” She grinned. “Cute, right?”

Of course she paid attention when they announced his name specifically. 

You could never remember anyone’s, and she probably saw you looking at his picture for a little too long when it appeared on the Jumbotron’s screen, announcing that his match with Oijiro was about to begin. 

“Not really,” you lied, a bad attempt at feigning disinterest. 

Like your eyes hadn’t been trailing down his lean figure the moment his next match started. 

Or noticing how attractive it was the way he casually folded his arms when he taunted Midoriya, or wondering in your mind if his perpetual bed-head was as soft as it looks. 

Mina turned to you, smirking at your slightly dazed expression.

“Really? Then you wouldn’t mind if I told him you had some questions about his quirk and wanted to talk about it after this, riiight?”

“What?” You shake your head furiously. “I mean his quirk is really interesting but–ugh Mina, no!” 

“For the plot!” She waggled her eyebrows.

You nudged her knee with a huff. “I’m breaking up with you.”

“Nooo, I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” Mina eyed you cheekily. “I won’t call him over.”

“Oh thank god.”

“But only if you admit he’s your type.”

You groan. “Okay fine. I think he’s hot, happy?”

“Very.” Your best friend laughs, pure happiness indeed written all over her face. You can see the matchmaking gears already turning in her head. “I just know you too well, babe.”

You roll your eyes. “Sometimes I really wish you didn’t.”

“Come on, you guys would be so cute together though.” She sighs dreamily. “Forensic sight and mind-control? Plus you’re both hot as fuck? Talk about a power couple.”

“....I think I’m going to go sit with Yaomomo instead.”

Recalling the memory, you laugh. “I know, we kept accidentally making eye contact after your second match because our seats were right across from each other.”

“That awkward prolonged eye contact in the stands might’ve been how I started crushing on you.”

You smirk. “You had a crush on me? That's so embarrassing.”

“I know.” He rolls his eyes, softly tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “Worst decision of my life.”

You hold Hitoshi’s hand tighter as you step closer to his side to get a better view of the tank. 

“Glad the feeling is mutual.” 

You spot it before he does.

“Oh my god Toshi. We need to get this for Eri.”

He spins around from the collection of the aquarium’s official shirts for sale, a shirt with a print of a whale shark in his hands. 

“Wha–oh my god.”

Hitoshi stares at the giant penguin plushie you’re holding in front of you. 

It was bigger than you–no, bigger than him even.

“Not sure if it’s going to fit on the train home, but we’ll make it work.”

   ───────── 

"Can you teach me how to draw a unicorn too, Eri?" Hitoshi asks.

You had already asked Eri before him seconds ago so you stick your tongue out at Hitoshi, mouthing ‘copycat,’ and he tilts his head down to quickly kiss your neck, making you giggle. 

He still has a pink bow wrapped around his bicep from when you three played dress up an hour ago, and you fight the urge to laugh again at how silly he looks.

Eri is too focused on her drawings to care about either of you, and after she scribbles around a little more, she turns to face her older brother.

“Yeah!” She hands him a red crayon. “Okay, so first you draw half of a circle.”

Hitoshi follows Eri’s instructions.

He lifts his hand, which nearly covers the paper, to reveal a red ‘C’ that looks like it got run over by a truck.

“No, no not like that! Erase it.” She frowns disapprovingly, hands on her hips. “You’re really bad at this Hito-nii.”

“Please Eri-sensei. I'm trying my best.”

“Try harder!” She turns away with a huff, then peers over at your paper. 

“Ooh yours looks so good!” Eri claps, and you smile proudly. 

“It’s all thanks to you, Eri.” You reach out to fix her pigtail that was starting to slip out of the cat-patterned scrunchie, and she giggles, holding still for you. 

Hitoshi grumbles. “This smells like favoritism.”

“That’s ‘cause your unicorn looks Celery’s poop!” Eri chirps. Then she runs away to the kitchen right before you double over in laughter at Hitoshi’s extremely offended face, clutching onto his broad shoulders for support. 

“She said your drawing looks like shit!” You snort, and he groans.

Celery’s ears perk up in Hitoshi’s lap and she meows, looking in your direction. You hold out your arms. “Celery, you want uppies?”

She ignores them and decides to sit in your lap instead, purring softly.

“Mrow.”

“Yeah? And then what?” You coo, gently rubbing her fuzzy forehead, and her eyes close in contentment.

She mewls again, pawing at your sock and you laugh.

“Okay, okay I’ll tell him.” 

Looking up at Hitoshi, he tilts his head the same way Celery does when you talk to her. 

You bite back a laugh, you’re not sure who’s the cat in the room at this point.

“What did she say?” He asks you curiously.

All you do is blink slowly at him in response.

Hitoshi’s brows knit in confusion.

Then his eyes widen, a soft pink starting to color his cheeks.

Shyly, he slowly blinks back.

Suddenly, the gray-haired girl comes back from the kitchen, apples Aizawa sliced like rabbits for her on a plate in her hands. 

You’re still slowly blinking at each other as she walks through the door.

Eri looks at the both of you weirdly.

“What are you two doing?”

“Mrow.”

teehee hitoshi’s the pb to ur jelly(fish) get it

[radio-writes]

Going on anon bc this is a bit messed up but can you write Alastor x reader where Alastor uses sex as a form of torture?

Fuck your God and His Righteous Hand(s)

Synopsis: Hasn't Alastor always been such generous partner? Hasn't He always provided for you? Given you everything and anything you ever wanted? Except for your freedom of course.

The night you decide to run away from his graciousness, you find out just how generous he could be.

Warnings: noncon, forced relationship, mentions of blood, mentions of murder, physical harm to reader, degradation, smut, over stimulation, tentacles are used (I probably missed a lot, let me know)

Tags: Alastor x fem!reader; dead dove do not eat

MDNI

Your heart beat loudly against your chest, your breath ragged and heavy. Branches and twigs snapped and broke and fell all around you as you ran.

Not that you could hear any of it over the overwhelming sound of static flooding your ears. 

As if the dark wasn't terrifying enough, you had to stumble through the woods with tears blurring your vision too. Arm stretched in front of you, swatting away vines in your path as you desperately tried to get away.

You had to get away.

You couldn't get away.

You could almost feel the ground shake beneath your feet. You could almost feel his breath that skimmed the back of your head. There was no use in running, but run you did anyway.

You kept running even when you felt his clawed fingers grab at your shirt; the fabric tearing easily.

You kept running even when you could hear his voice right by your ear. "I think it's in your best interest not to anger me any more, darling."

You couldn't keep running when a heavy, velvety tentacle wrapped around your ankle; your breath knocked out of you as you tumbled onto the forest floor.

Your hand outstretched, palm reaching into the darkness. It was a terrifying, unknown, and threatening darkness—but to you it still meant freedom.

That was the last clear thing you saw before you landed flat on your stomach, the weight of your failed escape weighing you down more than the dark shadow around your leg. 

He was laughing.

He was out of breath, panting almost as heavily as you were, but he was laughing.

You heard the crunch of leaves and twigs as he approached your collapsed form. No longer rushing, no longer frantic. He seemed to take his time as he walked towards you, now that he's sure you couldn't get away.

Still, the tentacle holding you down tightened—a warning not to try anything again.

Not that you could. The moment of rest allowed to you as you laid on the ground, made the pain and exhaustion of your body much too apparent for your liking. Your legs felt like led, the numerous scratches from who-knows-where all sung in a harmony of stinging pain.

Even when you knew you couldn't run anymore, your mind frantically whirled through ideas. You tried to think of something, anything, to keep away from the Radio Demon.

At least until his shoes finally came into your view; the red accents bright against the inky darkness. They stopped right by your head, and suddenly it felt too dangerous to even think.

You found the dirt and mud of the forest floor much more appealing than having to look Alastor in the eye, so you kept your head down. Your head shrunk into the ground as the man looked down on you.

"I must admit, I hadn't expected you to run." Alastor said, still a hint of laughter in his tone. Had you looked up then, you would have seen just how much of a mess you've made of the demon. His hand pushed his red hair back from his forehead, sweat trickled down the side of his neck. 

But it wasn't his unusual state of exhaustion that would have been shocking if you looked at him right now. No, what would have been surprising—what would have been unnerving— was the wild, desperate look in his glowing red eyes.

While you were scared, desperate to get away.

He was terrified, desperate to get you back.

The view of your small figure as you weaved through trees, dipping in and out of his sight had filled him with such cold, heavy dread.

Almost as much as the sight of your hand nearly meeting that of another demon's.

"Oh! But you're so filled of the unexpected today, aren't you, darling?" You could hear the spite in his tone, but you didn't dare raise your head.

You felt him step closer.

"I mean, I hadn't expected you to try to sell your soul to another demon, either." You cringed, lifting your arms over your ears as the static warped his voice terribly.

You felt a heavy weight on the back of your head. It rested there briefly, before it shoved you down further into the dirt. Your face pressed down into the mud, but you didn't dare fight back. You didn't dare move. The most reaction you allowed yourself was a small whimper of fear.

The sound fueled Alastor's rage, already barely kept under the surface of his smile. His eye twitched in annoyance. Why were you shaking? Why were you afraid? 

Shouldn't you be kissing the foot on your head right now? Shouldn't you be thanking him for saving you from making a terrible mistake? A soul as unique as yours would have been wasted on a demon like that. 

This ungrateful behavior, this attempt to leave him, just wouldn't do.

His foot left the back of your head, but it allowed no relief. The black tentacle wrapped around your leg swiftly yanked you up.

Your eyes widened in shock and your hands dug into the ground in an attempt to stay there. But it isn't a surprise that your flimsy resistance was easily broken through. The world soon turned into a dizzying blur of colors as you were lifted into the air. The trees floated from above and the sky was a muddy mess of leaves and roots, your arms hung limply above your head. The blood that now rushed to your head didn't help you in making much sense of what was happening.

But none of that mattered when your eyes finally met Alastor's.

As you were held up by your leg, upside down in the air, Alastor's usual wide smile looked like a snarling frown. His narrowed eyes did nothing to help the fear that quickly ate its way through you.

It was silent for a moment. Tension so thick in the air that you found it so terribly difficult to breathe.

But when he finally spoke, you thought to yourself how you actually preferred the suspenseful quiet.

"Have I not been the perfect partner?" Alastor asked. The static over his voice now eerily back to the usual amount. His tone was cheery, light, like this was just another early morning chit chat over breakfast between the two of you.

You couldn't bring yourself to speak.

The black appendage holding you up tightened, your skin already beginning to bruise. Although, it seemed that was the only indicator of Alastor's true mood, as the demon remained composed in front of you.

"Have I not given you everything you wanted?" He asked as he brought you closer to him.

When you didn't respond he brought his clawed hand up to your face. 

You flinched, feeling his cold skin against yours, fearing that he'd tear right through your flesh. 

But his touch was gentle. His fingers softly brushed away the mud and grime from your cheek. 

"I've bought you everything you liked. I've protected you. Fed you." His voice was so soft, soothing. Like an old radio show you would have listened to while you drifted off to a restful slumber. 

"I've even fucked you through your pathetic little heats." His claws dug into your skin. Blood gushed down your face, the scarlet liquid stung your eye even as you clenched it closed. 

"I've spared useless, disgusting sinners on your request. I've played nice for you. I've given you everything." His hand shifted from your cheek to your neck, his grip tight, threatening.

The static over his voice once again horrid as it deafened you. His eyes, now drowned in black, narrowed into a glare at your form.

Your hands flew to your throat, pulling at Alastor's fingers. "Please, I'm sorry, Al!" You begged as you struggled. Your body flailed and squirmed as he held you above him, looking almost like a fish torn from the sea, desperate to breathe.

"Oh you're sorry?" Alastor's head titled to one side as he watched you. "That absolutely changes everything then!" He said cheerily, mockingly.

The tentacle holding you up loosened out of nowhere, sending you down into the mud for a second time that night.

You managed to keep yourself up by your arms as you greedily heaved in air back into your lungs. Your head still spun from the rush of blood, and you felt like you were about to vomit out whatever flesh Alastor made you eat earlier that day.

You felt something at your chin—Alastor's microphone it seemed—and it tilted your face towards him. Your teary eyes met his cheerful ones, and your chest tightened. It's been a long time since you've even stepped outside, but you now felt more trapped than you ever have before.

He bent down, lowering his face closer to yours as he smiled down at you. 

"Since it seems like I've neglected my dear darling partner for so long that they've decided to seek attention elsewhere, I think it's best to spend some nice quality time together. Don't you think that'd be nice, sweetheart?" Alastor's voice held no threats. Promises. Only promises.

You shook your head no before he even finished talking. A desperate shaking hand reached up to him. "No, please. Al. Anywhere but the radio tower again. Please."

"Don't worry, doll. This time will a bit different." He assured.

You moved quickly, hurriedly, scrambling to your knees ready to beg at his feet. But before you could even part your lips to start, Alastor had both of you melted into shadows.

You re-materialize in the one place that haunted your dreams. The one place in Hell that truly, actually, did feel like hell to you.

Your blood felt frozen as you remained on the floor. Eyes wide in fear as you stared at the control panel.

Alastor turned his back to you, humming cheerfully, nonchalantly, as he made his way towards the main seat. "There's no need to look so alarmed," He said, you could almost hear the way his eyes rolled at your stupid expression. "We won't be having any special guests for this broadcast."

You finally tore your eyes away from the contraptions. Your gaze landing on Alastor's wide back as he slowly removed his coat. "You...you won't be torturing some poor soul?" You asked confused—and admittedly a little hopeful.

You couldn't count the horrible days he had made you sit and watch and listen as he took his sweet time tearing souls apart. How he joyously broadcasted the tortured screams for his Hell's entertainment.

Alastor's grin widened, stretched just a tad bit too far, before he turned his head to look back at you.

"Oh," Heavy static morphed his voice once more. "I didn't say that."

You didn't have time to react before his tentacles sprouted from his back, his inner shirt ripping to make way for them. They grabbed at your limbs, slithering around to get a tight hold as they pulled you to him.

A scream ripped from your throat at the sheer suddenness of it, and it made Alastor's heart leap in his chest. Oh how he loved those adorable reactions of yours.

"That is delightful! But do save your voice, dear. I do have to start us off first," He said gleefully as he turned around to fiddle with the controls.

You heart sunk. Eyes wide as the realization hit you. He wasn't going to force you to listen to someone being tortured. 

"Alastor, wait—"

"Why hello, you wayward sinners! Hope everyone's having a wonderfully hellish time right now, because boy do I have quite the treat to make your evenings even better!" Alastor spoke into the mic, his eyes gone black as he held your gaze. "Yes, indeed, this one is going to be very special." 

"Al, please—" You bit your lip, cutting off whatever pleas you were going to throw at him.

One of his tentacles pressed against your clothed mound as the others held you in the air. It quickly worked its way under your bottoms, ripping through it easily and exposing you to Alastor's lazy gaze. 

"Don't, please. I'm so sorry, Al. I won't do it again, I promise, please." You whispered, not wanting all of Hell to hear how you begged for mercy.

"What's that, darling? I'm afraid you'll have to be a little louder for our lovely, horrid, listeners." Alastor mocked, just as the tentacle between your legs started to slide between your folds. Another made quick work of your already torn shirt.

You grit your teeth and clenched your eyes closed. Stubbornly, you refused to make a single sound from Alastor's ministrations.

But you know how this ends.

You're hardly the first soul he had broken during a broadcast.

You, of all people, knew that well.

Another one of his appendages slithered its way to your core. It teased at the entrance, pushing, testing your hole.

"I hope everyone has a lovely time!" You hear Alastor speak to his listeners, just as a scream ripped through your lips.

You weren't nearly wet enough to take him. Your walls resisted, but not enough for his strength. The black shadow pushed its way deep into you, others coiled at your legs to spread them apart. One remained by your clit, lazily flicking along. 

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" You cried as Alastor fucked his tentacle deep into you. The harsh thrusts sending your ample chest bouncing.

Alastor didn't respond, he rarely ever does to his victims. He preferred to let the song of their anguish play uninterrupted. But he did find himself paying more attention than he usually did to the way your body reacted to him.

His gaze locked at the way his black shadow disappeared into your slick hole. How it came back to light drenched in your juices, only to push back in harsher. How your little pussy stretched wide around his tentacle to accommodate its size.

His eyes traveled further up, watching as he wrapped one tentacle around your breast and squeezed. A lovely horrified sound coming from your lips from his actions.

He watched as you sobbed, attention fully on him. Only on him. And he couldn't deny the rather unfamiliar heat the pooled in his stomach at that fact.

The tentacle at your clit moved faster, pressing down just the slightest bit more at that little bud. You tried your damndest to silence the screams from your throat, but as your mouth fell open, you could only do so much.

The coil in your gut snapped easily. Alastor tightening his hold on you as he kept your spasming form in the air for his entertainment.

Your juices flowed down his dark appendages as it kept up the pace. Tears forming in your eyes as they gave you no reprieve, no time recover.

You fight against his hold, aching to close your thighs and catch your breath but the dark shadows merely pulled them apart wider. You pulled at you arms, wanting to push away the damned things from your core but you were merely held back the same way.

"Wait, please, stop." You were barely able to form a coherent sentence. The tentacle inside you opting to curl just the right amount to hit that soft, perfect spot inside you with every thrust. That spot that Alastor knew drove you wild when he fucks you through your heat, after a lot of begging on your end, at least.

You clenched down on it, that being the only thing you could think of that you could still do to slow this down. It unsurprisingly did nothing but make you feel more of each drag and pull against your walls.

Another orgasm is stolen from you as a tentacle began to grind itself up and down your sloppy slit, drenching itself in your slick as it attempted to join the one already fucking you. Your screams broadcasted for all of Pride Ring to hear.

It doesn't stop. He doesn't stop. His dark shadows held you still, fucking into your cervix without mercy, playing with your clit, your breasts. Pulling yet another sloppy orgasm from you.

"No more," You heaved. Alastor's assault seeing no end near. "I can't. Al, please." You begged.

You craned your neck over to look back at the demon. You find his gaze no longer on you or your body, but on the papers in front of him. His script. 

He was idly jotting down notes, chin rested on the palm of his hand and a lazy smile on his face. He almost looked bored, but the twitch of his ear as you called out his name showed you he was still paying you some attention. 

"Alastor, please," You tried again. "I am sorry. I won't do it again. I won't leave you again." You sobbed.

The tentacle inside you pulled out to your brief relief, only for it to slam harshly, deeper back into you. It's pace at breakneck speed that even with the tight hold around your limbs, your body was moved with every push and pull. 

"Oh, I'm sure you won't, darling." He finally replies to your pleas, although he didn't even glance your way. He continued correcting his notes, your sweet begging made for a wonderfully sweet background song. "Because why would you ever leave someone as generous as me?"

He ripped orgasm after orgasm from you. Your release dripped and drenched the floor of his radio tower. You begged til your throat was raw for some reprieve, for some forgiveness. But Alastor went about his way around the studio. Fixing this and that. Barely paid you any mind.

It was only when you've stopped pulling against his hold. When your legs had gone slack in the air, and your screams faded into whimpers did Alastor finally approach the control panel again.

"Wasn't that just darling! A wonderful performance, if I do say so myself," He laughed into his microphone. "I'm sure you lewd folks enjoyed yourself as much as our star of the night here, so make sure to keep an ear out for my next broadcast!"

His eyes finally land on your exhausted body. Your chest heaved with every labored breath as Alastor's tentacles finally slowly pulled out of you. A wet shlop of your juices dripping out as it did. 

He slowly lowered you onto the ruined floor, and your dazed eyes locked with his.

"There will definitely be more of where that came from." He said, less of his usual cheer. His tone lower. Threatening—no, promising.

You didn't move—you couldn't move—from the floor. You simply watched as Alastor shut down his broadcast and took his time straightening out and cleaning up his work station. He was humming cheerfully, seeming to be in a much better mood than when the night had begun.

When he was finally satisfied, you watched as he walked to where you were, stopping by your feet as he smiled down at you.

"Well, you've definitely seen better days." A laugh track followed his mockery. 

"I'm sorry." You heaved out. You hoped this was the end of it. You hoped he would just throw you back and lock you in his room again. Anything but stay in this wretched radio tower. "I'm yours. I won't try to run anymore."

Alastor chuckled at your response, moving to rest his cane against the wall before he reached up to his neck. He slowly loosened his bowtie and unbuttoned his shirt. "Oh I know you know that." He said waving off your words as if they didn't matter.

He lowered himself over you, his towering figure blocking out what little light you had. "But I'm afraid I need a bit of a reminder about who you belong to." 

His hand made quick work of his trousers, pulling his hardened cock free.

His claws were at your waist and they pulled your limp body closer to him. Not that you offered any resistance.

"You can do one more for me can't you darling?" He wasn't really asking.

You can't. But you nod your head anyway.

He pushed into you easily. Your previous releases coated him and allowed a slicker entry. 

Your back arched despite exhaustion, and Alastor drank in your pained expression. "There's a good girl. Always ready to ruin herself for her lover." You heard him say. "Don't worry, I won't make this long."

But of course that was a lie. He pulled back so slowly, revering in the way your drenched walls felt around him; how they clenched around his cock like how he saw them do around his tentacle. Then he thrusted himself back harshly into your sloppy hole, forcing what little sound you could still make out from your lips.

He fucked into you, slowly, deeply, maddeningly. Making sure you both felt each and every drag of his heavy cock.

He wasn't one to crave sex as much as most of hell, but when it was with you—his precious partner, he had to admit he didn't hate the sensations all too much. And if it meant reminding you who was in control, if it meant making you owe him, making you dependent on him, making you crave him, then it was all the more enjoyable to see you fucked out and speared on his dick.

One of his hands made its way to the back of your neck, pulling you up into his lap. He fucked up into you as your head lolled to the side, struggling to keep your body upright.

Alastor drank in your expression. Your glazed over eyes, the tear stains that smeared through the mud and blood along your cheeks, the drool dripping from your split lips. Yes, this is what you deserved for even daring to leave him. This is what you needed to be reminded on just how good a partner he is.

He wrapped a tentacle around your hips, keeping you steady as he pounded his cock into you. His free hand now moved between you, to your clit.

Your hips spasmed as he drew quick circles on the bud, but you fought the instinct to squirm away. You wouldn't leave him. 

You can't leave him.

You know that now.

Alastor's grin widened when he noticed your actions. "There's a good girl." He purred again, leaning down to your neck to lick up your skin.

"Let me feel you cum on my cock now, darling. Let me feel how much you want me to fill you up." He whispered, his sweet voice right by your ear as he pressed down harder on your clit.

You whined, tears pouring from your eyes once more as he tore yet another orgasm from your weakened body.

Your fluids drenched his dick, soiling his pants as you came around him. Alastor all but tore your skin as he gripped you tight. His own pace finally picked up.

You felt him twitch inside you, before the hot feeling of his seed soothed your battered cunt. 

"Tell me, would that scum have let you cum like this?" Alastor whispered in your ear. He held you tightly, his head still at the crook of your neck.

"No," You responded weakly. You felt him twitch inside you again.

You tried your hardest not to think back to the poor sinner, ripped limb from limb in a blink of an eye. Their body likely still stomped down into the mud of the forest floor.

"Would any other wretched soul be able to give you what I give you?" Alastor asked again. He playfully nipped at your ear.

"No," You responded again.

"So who do you think can treat you, treasure you, best, my dear?" He pulled back, his smug smile loomed over you as he held your chin for you to keep his gaze.

"You, Alastor. Only you can treat me this good." The words were bitter in your mouth

You hadn't sold him your soul. And he would never ask for it.

But you were his and his alone, nonetheless.

"And don't you ever forget it." He mused, pushing you back down to the floor as he began to fuck himself inside of you again. His previous release slowly pushed out with every slow thrust.

"Be still for me, darling," He whispered sweetly. "Let me have my fill of you for now." 

I don't usually write smut but this request sent me haywire. Hope I didn't disappoint, anon! I loved your demented request ♪

[xitsensunmoon]

He still loves your stupid face

@kandidandi screaming at you

[diejager]

Just the boys and König finding sh scars on reader, and/or helping them stitch a wound? Platonic, if possible

I’m gonna make the assumption (I might be horribly wrong about this…) that sh means self-harm???

Cw: Self-harm, blood, scars, protective behaviour, helicopter parent (Price and Laswell), angst?, fluff?, stitches, tell me if I missed any.

There’s a certain level of… panic in their eyes, the rising waves of fright until it threatened to drown them in a thick and dark abyss, swallowing their minds whole at the single fear of losing you to something they could have stopped; prevention they thought, a plan B in case plan A failed, but if they didn’t know, how could they have time to set it up? König almost had a heart attack when he broke the door at Gaz’s call, finding you slumped against the bathroom door, one hand on the door knob and another - the bloodied one - limply clutching your phone, eyes blinking blearily at them, clouded in confusion and fatigue. 

It didn’t take them long to call the rest, rushing you to the infirmary after your accident, cutting too deep and risking death from your slight slip of the hand. Laswell and Price were called, finding the four of them seated beside you after they stormed into the sterile room. You looked ashamed, not about the act of cutting yourself to feel more than the depression and darkness in your heart, but the act of being caught, letting them know of your… ways to refresh your mind. The shameful tilt of your head downwards, staring with heavy eyes at your bandaged wrist, cleaned and stitched up. 

Ghost had forced your sleeves up, rolling them until your biceps to show the extent of it, the many lines, crisscrossing in old and jagged lines of paler skin, standing starkly from the usual flush. He wasn’t disappointed at you, never, from a person who cut themselves to another, he was more so disappointed in himself from not catching the signs —a dark omen of pain and sorrow, forgetting that he was blinded by your happy smile to catch the tired gleam in your eyes. 

Both he and König knew the pain, the new scars that no one asked for, but kept adding and adding until it would eventually tear your arm off, limb from limb, piece by piece until you lost the will to keep on. He took on smoking instead, as self-destructive as cutting was, but the thicket of nicotine would calm his loud mind, and König had a therapist, someone he was… willing to talk to when things got too hard. They understood and felt, but failed you all the same, despite everything they vowed, they almost lost you because they were too blind to see past your thin mask. 

It was a feeling shared by the two sergeants, the more sensitive and sympathetic of the bunch, more in tune with heartfelt affection and human socialisation than the others, and the two weren’t afraid to voice it. The anger at themselves, the rage that crossed Soap’s face when he curled his fingers, bleeding his palms in the same manner you bled your feelings, hidden and alone in your dark room, bathroom and floor stained in the iron-rich ichor. 

Gaz made a face, lips pulled down, brows pinched and eyes wet, tears fluttering at the edge of his lashes. He was a soft man, feeling and sympathetic, nearing empathetic whenever he wanted to feel what you felt, but in a crisis like this, where the thought had crossed his mind once or twice, but never acted it, he was lost. Confused and afraid, a daze where he thought that - perhaps - was how you felt when he wasn’t there to ease your pain, ignorant of the subtle signs of agony in your heart, screaming for help when your mouth wouldn’t utter a single word. 

Price and Laswell hovered, combat helicopters roaming around you for any danger, watchful and worried, confident in their helping hand, but worried you would need help. Wanting to help, but afraid that needing it would mean something much deeper, and today was just the boiling point of it, the discovery of your sorrow and their dread and disgust at their inactivity. Laswell had made a few phone calls, her voice hushed as she spoke, eyeing Price for corrections and agreements until they came to the same consensus. 

If you hadn’t known any better, you would have considered them your parents, loving and caring, tender and affectionate, just as the rest of them, all friends and teammates you considered brothers. Yet, there was a stigma to it, one imposed by normal people that made you feel a certain way. Perhaps that why you hadn’t spoke about it, the dreadful need to keep it hidden until it was forced into the light. 

“You don’t have to do it alone anymore, luv,” Price promised, his low and rumbling voice that exhumed calm tenderness.

That was all it took you to sob, a dam creaking and breaking, letting your tears flood outwards while you clutched at the lapel of his jacket, hiding away in the familiar musk and cologne of his parental figure.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce

[star1ight0]

Shouta Aizawa, Hizashi Yamada x PLATONIC KID!!

I crave comfort so here

Tw : Ed /sh

Not many people were aware of your relationship with your homeroom teacher and English teacher known as Mr. Aizawa and his loud husband Mic but they were your dad's. In the beginning of the year they both made it clear no special treatment would be given and you appreciated it a lot.

This also came with its ups and downs trying to fight the urge to hug you dad in front of class after villain attacks ect, as much as they'd both fight it they also struggled to accessively check on you when you all moved to dorms.

Having grown up always close to him after they adopted you from a abusive home. had its drags on you all You weren't entirely sure when this overwhelming feeling of despair started but it felt so shitty, you had no reason to feel this way you had a good life. Loving dads, a nice school and a few friends you hold dear to you. It was so long ago why was this still bothering you.

You remembered a conversation you had with your dad, Mic recalling how Aizawa was struggling with mental health and how it wasn't an effect of things around him but rather his brain chemistry. You looked at your phone debating on calling your family group chat to ask them for help but managed to talk yourself out of it resorting to crying on your closet floor.

After a few minutes of crying you managed to pull yourself together grabbing some clothes and deciding this was all in your head and you had no reason to feel so shitty. Heading out your room you feel a tap on your shoulder "it's past curfew kid" you turn around to see you father Hizashi looking around you you look back at him eyes still puffy "Sorry dad, just needed a shower" you say attempting to walk away when you feel a hand in you wrist "were you crying little listener?" You flinch at the childhood nickname your dad had given you "No, sorry just tired" you say pulling away "either your high or you were crying which one is it kid" He says pointing to your eyes "its nothing dad please just let me shower"

You pull away walking away leaving your dad in the hall alone. You took a long shower, trying to scrub off the memories of your past home. You get out the shower and go back to your dorm laying down on the floor ignoring the fact your bed was no more than 3 feet away. You look at your phone to see Aizawa texted you

You okay kiddo?

Yeah sorry for worrying y'all just a bad day

Are you sure

Yeah

If you say so, me and Hizashi are here if you need us. Now go to bed it's late

The conversation was short and to the point but you still felt the need to want to call him and tell him these awful feelings you were having.

A few days passed when you got an email from an all too familiar name, it was your biological mom. The very same woman who had given you physical and mental problems along with nonstop nightmares for 2 years. You had changed everything phone number, social media accounts anything that she could you to find you. Yet her name is in your inbox with a paragraph calling you names and threatening you. Everything felt so out of control like nothing you did to get away from her was enough. But she knew now, she knew what school you went to. 1-A had been on TV after all, you should have known it was only a matter of time. You looked at your phone blankly feeling your body shake and tears fall from your face. You reached for your pocket knife making a cut on your thigh it felt good like you finally had control over how you felt like you had control over something when everything around you was so chaotic. This was bad you knew that but it felt too good to want to care.

Overtime the threatening emails from your mother piled up only feeding the fear she'd find you and harm you, in turn causing more scars to be formed on your legs. You dads had quickly talked notice to you change in dimanar and talked it over amongst themselves and tried to reach out to you but it was all brushed off as a bad week or a bad day.

This began to escalate more than your lack of interest in food came about you seemed so tired too tired to even eat. This is where they drew the line. No kid of theirs would be passing out in training. They just couldn't figure out how to talk to you about this without you shutting down and shutting them out.

Monday morning training came about and you felt exhausted like your whole body was about to give out. This was only further proven when you passed out before training with Todoroki without him even activating either of his quirks. Both Hizashi and Aizawa rushed to your side as another student ran to get recovery girl. You woke up in the nurses office with both your dad's next to you looking worried out their minds.

"Recovery girl said you'd be fine.. as long as you ate and drank probably." There was a silence filled with worry and a bit of anger

"I'm sorry dad-" you were cut off by Hizashi hugging you, "please don't scare me like that kid" he said holding you as if you were gonna disappear. "Talk to us if you need to kiddo. You know we'll listen. "

You hugged him back going back to your dorm early as you were excused from all classes for the day, sitting on your floor you checked your phone to see another email this time from your biological father. Your mom texting you was one thing you knew in some way she didn't have the gut to actually hurt you but your dad, he'd hunt you down and kill you, metaphorically and literally. You felt a wave of fear washing over you and you sobbed standing up hands on your head pacing around your room crying and shaking. You reach for your knife once more sliding down the wall making a cut in an almost fully healed scar feeling that feeling of control comes back. You made a few more before stopping, taking a deep breath grabbing your first aid kit sitting in the same spot on the floor. Yeah, you felt stupid but not stupid enough to not clean this kind of thing. As you were cleaning up you heard a knock at your door

"Kid? It's us can we talk?"

Aizawa says still waiting at the door "Y-yeah give me a minute please!!" You shout rushing to put the first aid kit away and some sweatpants and throw your knife under the bed you wipe your face, and open the door

"Kid are you okay you look a little.. worse than earlier "

"yeah I'm fine just not in a great mood," you said looking at your phone placed in the far end of the bed. They both came Into your room sat on your bed and attempted to talk to you about what had been bothering you. The conversation went in circles before you placed your head in Aizawa's lap. Your dad Hizashi, was standing at the foot of your bed about to leave when he was stopped by a blood stain on the floor.

"Shouta, I think we should stay till she wakes up"

"hm. I mean I'm not against it but why ?"

He points at the blood spot on the floor and Shoutas eyes widen.

"they are knocked out right now so can you look for whatever is being used ?"

He nods looking around your room eyes landing on a pocked knife shining under your bed.

"here, I'll put it in our room," he says showing Shouta before closing it and placing it in his pocket, as he was above to leave he stopped by the light of your phone along with a name he recognized followed by a scowl.

"Shouta I'm gonna check their phone for something"

He gives Hizashi a confused look but unable to move because of your sleeping form he allows him to do so, you trusted them enough to let them know your passwords but they had never not trusted you enough to go through your phone. He opens the email, reading it and seeing ll the others. He made a face of pure disgust and walked toward Shouta showing him the inbox along with one of the emails it had.

Both had decided to stay in your room till morning, planning to talk to you about this night of unfortunate events. But this was cut short by the feeling of you hyperventilating in Shoutas lap. Hizashi gently shakes him awake and they both attempt to comfort you ultimately failing as you wake you shaking tears forming in your eyes. An all too familiar scene for your dad's to witness.

"it's okay kid, your okay" Hizashi whispered patting your head as Aizawa rubbed your shoulder.

"sorry i-"

"No apologies. We know everything so there's no need to hide anything from us anymore"

Shouta says looking up at his husband

"you could have really hurt yourself kid"

"i know I just - "You were cut off by a knot in your throat as you scrambled to find the words "Everything feels so out of control and I can control this you know?" Shouta nodded in agreement.

"Why did you come to us kiddo?

"i- I didn't want you to worry you. You guys had enough going on.."

You said your voice is still shaking between sobs.

"you'd never be a bother to us. It's our job as you parents to check on you and worry for you"

You all had a long talk about possible coping strategies and ways to communicate if you wanted to talk about something without feeling bothersome. A few relapses were bound to happen and they both knew this but did everything they could to ensure it didn't. Even if it meant letting the whole class know you were their kid so you could go in the teacher's wing of the dorms. You began slowly getting better with setbacks here and there, but by setting up a new email and talking more about what your depression episodes felt like, both your dads were able to help you through it

Yes it's messy I wrote 75% of this in one go and the other half after my shower. And it's like 12:58am

Requests are open but slow

Please reach out if you need to to!!

[qiu-yan]

MDZS and asshole victims: thoughts on the second siege of the burial mounds scene

this post is not about morality judgments. this post is about reader sympathies only.

one rather clever rhetorical trick MDZS employs is putting all the more background "surviving victims of wei wuxian's actions" into one big angry mob at the second siege of the burial mounds, instead of letting them crop up anywhere else in the story. it's easy for a first-time reader to write off the guy who lost a leg at nightless city, or the guy whose parents died at nightless city, because both of those guys are being dicks. they're part of an angry mob baying for wei wuxian's blood--unfairly baying for wei wuxian's blood, because this time he didn't even do the thing they're saying he did. by putting these two victims into a mob of not just fellow victims but also unaffected individuals (ie. sect leader yao, who just showed up for kicks), the story can effectively equate these victims' grievances (ie. "you killed my parents") with unreasonable mob rule--even if these two things might not actually be equivalent.

the effect of this rhetorical trick, then, is that the reader can at once perceive the themes about mob mentality MXTX wishes to convey, and also effectively write off the victims' complaints. "yes, i did that to you, but i literally died already, what more do you want me to do? shall i walk on my knees repenting?" becomes easier for the reader to accept. and more importantly--wei wuxian's likability as a moral and just protagonist is not impacted.

ngl tho. it would be a bit more difficult for the reader to write off these victims' complaints if, instead of meeting said victims in an angry mob, the reader instead met these victims almost anywhere else. imagine if, instead of meeting mr. "you killed my parents" at the second siege of the burial mounds, we instead met him getting smashed at the local bar and crying about how his parents are dead. imagine if, instead of meeting mr. "you chopped off my leg" as a member of an angry mob, we instead met him begging for alms on the side of the road because his disability rendered him unable to work in a wuxia-esque setting. or imagine--if either of these background characters, overcome with survivor's guilt and trauma from nightless city, hung himself in his bedroom, and the next day his body was discovered by his 15-year-old daughter.

all of these scenarios are entirely plausible. you could easily include any of them into the story without changing the main plot at all. but suddenly shit just got a lot more depressing.

however, no such scene would ever be included in MDZS. the reason is that, as a work of fiction, MDZS's single most ardent goal is for us the readers to conclude not just that "we like wei wuxian as a character," but also that "wei wuxian is ultimately a morally righteous person." when the narrative focus shifts onto the people who were actually helped by wei wuxian's actions (mianmian and her family, lan sizhui, the few months of dignity the wen remnants were afforded) this becomes much easier for us to conclude; wei wuxian does indeed look like a hero. but the more narrative focus is given to the negative impacts of wei wuxian's actions--the more the "victims of wei wuxian" (whether actual victims or not) are given a face, instead of abstracted away by broad summaries--the more the reader might side-eye wei wuxian instead. every new victim given a name, given narrative attention that isn't just focused on making them look like an asshole, arouses the reader's sympathies in the opposite direction--and thus increases the risk that the reader might ultimately disagree with the novel's conclusion of "wei wuxian is a righteous person."

tbh, this does not seem like a risk MXTX particularly wants to take. instead, she's mastered the art of writing Asshole Victims.

which is an entirely valid writing decision, because imo basically every work of genre fiction out there does this to some extent.

[mobbu-min]

☆ erm, let's not do that ☆

requested by anon! Hi there! So i would like to request The overblot gang with a S/O who likes to pick on their fingers whenever they are stressed and considering what Yuu have to go through, they would have a bloody hand if it werent for the fact they use gloves when they are really stressed out. (They dont wear gloves often because it will look weird when it doesnt fit the outfit but will wear it if necessary). So what are the overblot gang (seperate) reactions when he learns why his S/O pick on their fingers and wear gloves? P.s. you are an amazing writer and i love your work, keep up the good work! Hope you have a lovely day/night!

a/n so it's been awhile... how have you guys been? i've been okay, been dealing with post graduation fatigue and depression. been wondering what the hell am i doing with my world and wondering if things are really worth it. i miss bts, i miss jin and hobi and most of all yoongi. i miss the person i used to be. i miss the person that was my rock for a good few years. i wish this whole life thing wasn;t so hard, but! twst makes my brain go brrrr, so that's good i guess lolol. i'm working on stuff dw! and i'll try to post more, so thank you all so much to those who have been waiting! i love you all!!! <333

characters mentioned: overblot boys!

!tw! blood, would this be considered self harm? (an actual question btw)

Riddle Rosehearts <3

⋆ He’s so concerned. Honestly, when he saw the state of your hands, he gasped like some Victorian man seeing an ankle for the first time.

⋆ He’s not the type to beat around the bush, but he’s gentle about it. He’s quick to voice his concern for your health and if there’s any way for him to help you. 

⋆ Knowing that he is part of the cause of your pain, sorta sends him spiraling somewhat. It really makes Riddle want to become a better person after seeing the after effects of his tyranny.

⋆ Whenever Riddle sees you picking at your hands, he kinda swats at your hands like an angry cat. A disappointed pout on his soft features. He really tries okay. 

⋆ Riddle will patch your hand up. He’s so gentle about it too. Holding your hands as if they were blessed by the Queen of Hearts (honestly there’s probably a rule about it)

⋆ He’s taken to holding your hand when you're together. He stutters out a quick ‘I-it’s to help you!’ before dragging you away to study. When you're alone, Riddle has the habit of kissing your hands, mumbling sweet words. 

⋆ Overall, Riddle is concerned but willing to do anything to help you.

“If you ever find the urge to harm yourself, no matter how small, I ask you to seek me out. I will always spare you a moment. Afterall, I care about you, please don’t forget that.”

Leona Kingscholar <3

⋆ He noticed the state of your hands the moment he met you, but didn’t mention it until you grew closer. Like Riddle, he doesn’t beat around the bush. But unlike Riddle, Leona is so incredibly blunt.

⋆ After you tell him it’s a habit you’ve picked up after certain events, Leona drops the subject. The both of you are too awkward to keep it going. Afterall, you both knew what events could have led you here. Guilt was quick to snag Leona’s heart.

⋆ He’s not upfront about his emotions. Leona’s quite bad with vocalizing his worries, but he’s always been a firm believer in actions over words anyways.

⋆ Expensive gloves, creams and ointments from his land, heck even fidget toys he’s seen Cheka play with, shows up at your door. Anything he believes that could help you, he’s getting.

⋆ If you’re together and your hands get particularly bad, he’s dragging you to the infirmary to patch you up (he ends up snagging/buying bandages to keep on him just in case after) He doesn’t really talk much, but the sentiment is there.

⋆ Like Riddle, Leona will hold your hands to stop you from picking at your skin. His grip is tight, but not in a way that seems like he’s scolding you or mad, but tight in a way that's comforting. As if saying ‘I’m here.’

‘Oi, stop that… Yeah, I’m aware, but I’m here now. Let’s find other ways to deal with your stress, yeah? (whispering) I think I’ve got a few ideas, if you’re up to it, herbivore~’

Azul Ashengrotto <3

⋆ He beats around the bush. Azul is weirddddd about it.

⋆ On one hand, he’s worried about you. On the other hand, his capitalist side wants to find some way to profit off it. Somehow he manages to quell both sides. (he ends up making hand cream/ointment using like floyd’s mucus thing, rip floyd)

⋆ Azul, despite his incessant need to bottle up his emotions for others, finds it hard to ignore the state of your hands, and likewise state of your health, any longer. He doesn’t know how to approach the topic. Does he ask right away? Should he ease you into it? He, for the first time since his overblot, is lost for words.

⋆ He does eventually get the guts to ask and oh boy, he never knew guilt felt this bad.

⋆ Azul kinda sucks at helping you, he won’t hold your hand (only in private) and he’s kinda frivolous with money (so no expensive gifts) but he’s good with his words. And when he sees you starting to pick at your hands, he immediately starts running his mouth. And he can talk for hours. And he’s entertaining too. Leaving you so enraptured by his words that you forget about the need to pick at your skin.

⋆ He’s always good at always keeping you busy. And no this isn’t some way to get free labor out of you. Typically you help him with paper work, just you and him in his little office.

⋆ Azul may always be boasting about how kind he is outloud, but you both know his true kindness is always quiet.

‘Ah, that’s enough paperwork for today. How about we go to the lounge for a few drinks? There’s plenty more I wish to share with you about the stock market.’

Jamil Viper <3

⋆ He doesn’t notice until you’re hissing in pain from something spicy touching your tender skin (listen i know this does make sense, but trust me, it hurts) He’s confused and worried at first and confused and worried after.

⋆ Jamil scolds you for working without some sort of protection while he tenderly washes your hands.

⋆ I feel like Jamil also has some bad coping habits, so he’s quick to put two and two together. He doesn’t ask, but there is a noticeable shift in his behavior. Jamil is a lot more gentle, not in a demeaning way, but in an awkward ‘I want to help you, but idk how, just please appreciate my efforts’ sorta way.

⋆ Since he still has his duties as Vice Housewarden and Kalim’s aid, he’s pretty tight on time, but he tries his best to spare you a few minutes. And if he can’t, you’ll always find a lunch box sitting on your desk.

⋆ Jamil is always willing to bandage your hands if they get particularly bad. He’ll use healing ointment that smells like home and is as gentle as his voice.

⋆ And while he can’t give you extraordinary gifts or talk for hours on end, Jamil is always ready to lend you a hand to heal your own destruction like how you healed him.

‘Stop squirming so much, I’ll mess up your banadages. -sigh- You really have to start wearing some sort of gloves… Mh? What was that?… You like it when I bandage your hand? E-eh- ahem, well if you like it so much, I might as well start charging you. …Ahaha, I never said thuarmarks, did I?”

Vil Schoenheit <3

⋆ He takes one look at your hand and instantly brings out a 12 step hand routine.

⋆ Listen, he doesn't care if you do it out of stress, he’s going to fix your hands while helping you find better ways to handle it.

⋆ He rubs like this gel liquid thing that tastes bad to prevent you from biting away the skin near your nail (it’s an actual thing don’t worry) He’s pulling all the stops to prevent you from injuring your hands even more than they already are.

⋆ Vil often walks the fine line of being really gentle or really strict about it. And it doesn’t stem from his perfection issues, he is just kinda bad at expressing his emotions in a way that is both productive and compassionate. He does care, you’ll just have to look for hidden meanings in his long lectures.

⋆ No doubt, Vil is getting both of you matching gloves with your signature colors as accents.

⋆ The whole 12 step hand routine actually does become routine for the both of you. Typically taking place at Pomefiore, you’ll both talk about your day. Vil sees this as a way to check off all three boxes.

⋆ He gets to do his nightly hand routine.

⋆ You're improving day by day from talking about your emotions with him.

⋆ And he gets to spend one on one time with you!

⋆ It's a win-win situation! And your hands have never been softer!

‘And Epel just had to prove his point, which ended up with him casting a Zip Tight Spell on him. Despite not even being able to move his mouth, I could tell there was so much anger running though his little body. Goodness, how ridicu-hm? Did my little spudling fall asleep? How rude~ -sigh- Sweet dreams, darling~’

Idia Shroud <3

⋆ It’s Ortho that brings up your problem. Worry evident in his voice as he showed pictures of your hands to his big brother.

⋆ Despite being gaming buddies, Idia really never paid attention to your outer appearance. Too preoccupied in his desire to beat you at every game you both play.

⋆ And poor Idia, guilt grabs him by his long ass hair and flings his lanky body across the room multiple times (not really, but in Idia’s head that what's happening)

⋆ Unlike all of the others mentioned, Idia’s way of help is rather unconventional. He’s not good at talking nor is he good at physical touch, but you know what he is good at? Yeah, making things.

⋆ After a long night, Idia shows up at Ramshackle holding a small box. What is in the box? Well your own personal health robocat! This cat is kinda like Ortho just to a lesser degree (think of the robocat seven made mc!)

⋆ Listen, he knows he’s severely lacking in multiple departments of this whole dating, heck even friend, thing, but he is trying! And RoboCat is the ultimate form of his love! It’s quite romantic really.

⋆ Is Grim happy about the new intruder? No! But your health is more important than his feelings!

⋆ Idia swears he died of pure happiness at your expression. His two favorite things together!? Eek! It’s too much!

‘A-and next time you find yourself in trouble, just c-call for Robocat and she’ll come flying!… A laser beam like Ortho? Good idea! I’ll make sure to add it in her name update!’

Malleus Draconia <3

⋆ His heart aches to see the pain you put yourself through. If it was up to him, he’d simply whisk you away to a place where no stress could muddle your beautiful mind. If he could, he would kill stress itself.

⋆ But alas, he can’t kill something that doesn’t have a physical form, how sad~ (lilia had to convince him not to go after Crowley)

⋆ Malleus is doing everything he can to help you. Just name it and he’s doing it.

⋆ Multiple gloves made of the finest materials? Got it!

⋆ Healing ointment from the farthest land made from an extinct organism? Done!

⋆ The heads of your enemies? Why didn’t you say so sooner!

⋆ He’s so silly ahahaha.

⋆ But seriously, Malleus sorta never feels stressed (he does, just thinks stress is a human emotion that only humans can feel) but he’s always willing to listen to you. Afterall, you’re always willing to lend your ears to him, it’s the bare minimum.

⋆ Advice? It’s so-so, sometimes he comes off vague but that really just because of his faeness. But he tries and is actively trying to be better, trying to be more intune with your emotions and his. (lilia has been great help, and surprisingly enough, watching silver and sebek on a more friendly level has also helped him be more in tune with emotions)

⋆ You shouldn't have to suffer in silence and he’ll make sure you never will for as long as the universe will let him.

‘You’ve been such a good companion, my dearest child of man, so please let me return the favor. Allow me to see the deepest parts of your soul, of your mind and heart. If you fear that I will cast judgment, do not. I could never judge the soul that has welcomed me with an open heart.’

[moonstruckme]

could i req any marauder finding r’s sh scars and being loving about them? going through hell rn. it’s okay if u cant, love u mae

Wishing you all the best sweetheart, hope you're doing what you can to support yourself and let others around you support you too <33

cw: past self harm

modern au

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

“Did his wife cheat on him?”

“Why would you think that?” 

“I mean, if not, why does the mother-in-law hate her so much?” 

Remus shrugs, a secret smile playing on the edge of his mouth. His knuckles run over the skin of your shoulder idly as he keeps his eyes on the laptop screen. “Suppose you’ll have to wait and see.” 

You huff a laugh. “What’s the point of watching with someone who’s already seen it if you won’t tell me anything?” 

“It’s only ever really fun for the person who’s already seen it. I get to watch you go through the agonies I did.” 

“The agonies.” You roll your eyes, leaning deeper into his side. You could be a bit more convincing about holding this against him, but Remus’ bed is almost as comfortable as Remus himself, and you’ve found it impossible to pretend at being any less smitten with him than you really are. He sees right through you every time. “If you’d mentioned the agonies in your pitch, I might not have agreed to this.” 

“You’ll like it,” he promises, leaning back on you in turn, your shoulder pushing into his arm. 

The two of you are having the laziest of afternoons. What had started as a coffee date had turned into a trip to the bookstore across the street and then a walk in a park, and when it had gotten too warm out for the both of you Remus had invited you over for lunch and somehow you’ve ended up here, sitting on his bed in a borrowed pair of sweatpants while you watch a film on his laptop and he touches you like you’re a fascination he’d like to spend years studying. 

It’s an indolent, distracted sort of touching. Almost like he’s mapping you out in his subconscious, so that someday he’ll know you by instinct and memory but he’s in no hurry to get there. Like he’s got time. It’s also hypnotic. As captivating as Remus’ film selection is, you’re having a difficult time keeping up with the plot when your eyelids are so, so heavy. 

His knuckles stroke over your neck, the bare skin of your collarbone, down the slope of your shoulder. You don’t realize your shirt has slipped off the top of your arm until he does.

You freeze, Remus doesn’t. His fingers continue to graze lightly over the neat rows of scars, slowing as though losing momentum. You close your eyes. 

Emotion rises like a gag reflex in your throat. Apprehension and shame and a guilt you don’t quite understand. Like you’re wrong for ever having had the audacity to hurt, like this is something you’re doing to him, somehow, even though it’s long over and was only ever a misguided attempt at making yourself feel better. It’s nonsensical, and you feel it anyway. 

Remus is quiet for a long while. 

His touch moves back up your shoulder, to unmarred skin and safer territory. He asks, “You okay?” 

You swallow. “You mean, like, presently?”

“Yeah.” There’s the faintest hint of teasing in Remus’ voice. He sweeps his thumb over the back of your neck, an attempt at soothing you. “Or in general, whatever suits you.” 

“Yeah, I’m okay.” 

“I’m sorry if I overstepped just now. I didn’t know.”

“No…no, you’re alright. I wasn’t…” You rub your lips together, taking in what you hope is a subtle breath through your nose. “You’re fine.” 

“Does it bother you to think about them?” he asks. You can feel him looking at you, now, but you keep your eyes on the screen. It’s the only way for you to have this conversation. 

“Not really. It was just something I did for a while, you know?” 

“Yeah,” he says softly. “Yeah, that makes sense.” 

You sit there for another quiet minute, you watching the movie and Remus watching you. The coil of apprehension in you starts to loosen. Your breaths come easier. 

“Sorry,” you say, not bothering to force lightness into your tone, “I didn’t mean to spring that on you. It’s not a secret, but it’s not something that tends to come up, like, casually.” 

“No, hey, you’re fine.” Remus sounds serious enough that you turn to look at him, and you find him with a hard notch between his brows, a surprised sort of frown on his lips. “If anyone sprung anything, it was me. You haven’t done anything wrong. I don’t imagine it’s an easy subject to broach.” 

“It’s not a big deal to me anymore.” You’re beginning to sound almost as if you’re pleading with him. 

“Alright.” 

“And it was a long time ago now.” 

“It’s okay, love.” 

“I just know people sometimes get freaked out, and I don’t want you to worry—” 

“Hey.” There’s a tenderness to Remus’ voice as he cuts you off. His honey-toned eyes are soft. “It’s okay. Can I hug you?” 

You nod mutely. The hand currently resting by your neck slips down to hug your ribs, and his other arm comes around your front, palming your bare upper arm. He rubs up and down comfortingly, seemingly mindless of the faint lines under his touch. 

Remus’ lips touch to your hair. When he pulls you tighter against him, it feels almost like you’re rocking. “You’re alright,” he murmurs, to you, to himself. “You’re alright.” 

“Sorry,” you whisper, self-conscious now of your nervous blithering and slightly stunned by the way he’s touching you. 

“For what, sweetheart? Don’t be sorry. If you want to talk about it—about anything—I will always want to hear it, but you don’t owe me any explanation, alright?” 

“Yeah.” Your lungs deflate a little, a relief you hadn’t known you needed. “Thanks.” 

“Don’t thank me, either.” Remus is teasing again, the press of his lips to your hair at once firm and fond. He lets you go but keeps his arm around your waist, dropping his head to rest on yours again. “You’re just fine, yeah?” 

“Yeah.” You snuggle into his side, somehow safer than before. “I’m good. I’ve been good.” 

His thumb sweeps over your side. “And you can tell me if you’re ever not. You’re perfect regardless.”  

[betweenblackberrybranches]

Hanahaki comic Part 2

Part 1 Part 3

Sometimes the one thing scarier than than being rejected is being loved back

Stay tuned for part 3

[radio-writes]

I Don't Know if I'm Real Without You

— Part 2 of 2 (Read Part 1 here: What is Left of Me Without You)

Synopsis: He didn't love you, but he needed you—that's what he said, at least. He needed you to show him just how deep your devotion to him really was.

Warnings: abusive relationships, power imbalance, some misogyny, heavy manipulation, gaslighting, murder and violence, physical injury to reader, major character death(s), angst

Tags: married, one sided romantic love, Alastor x Reader, female!reader

MDNI

"Why, just the other day a green fuzzy caught sight of another stiff by the river! Poor green egg went green in the face!" A laugh track followed the voice on the radio.

Alastor sat on the couch as he riffled through his briefcase, making sure he had everything he needed today.

"What poor taste," You commented absentmindedly from behind him. "Is that really any way to start off a Sunday morning?" 

Alastor let out a distracted hum at your words. He hadn't really been paying you much mind. A lazy smile simply played on his face.

Just one body? Seems they missed the other two friends it had in there.

"Well, it takes talent to entertain, my dear. Something these hacks clearly lack," He said casually, waving a hand at the radio's direction. 

"And speaking of stiffs! We've got a fresh one today, folks—" The host's voice was chipper as it came from the radio.

Alastor sat a little straighter, as if on instinct.

"Darling, do you mind fetching my script?" Your husband spoke over the hack radio host. "Seems I might have forgotten it in our bedroom." 

"Not a problem, dear," You replied almost instantaneously. Your hand landed on his shoulder, giving it an affectionate squeeze before you left the room. 

Alastor stood up, cooly making his way towards the radio as he turned the volume down slowly. 

"Glue stuffed in his mouth, chilled off, and absolutely tattered by nails, people! Brutal new body found behind the local—not so secret—juice joint!" The radio continued, but Alastor's smile remained calm despite the gruesome news.

His eyes stayed at the doorway you left through, making sure you had actually gone.

There was no need to sully your little ears with useless chatter like this. You were much more use to him all oblivious and naive, so he'd prefer to keep you that way. 

When the radio host finally finished talking about his the most latest victim, Alastor turned the volume back up to how it was. He made his way back to the couch, hands gathering his script neatly into his hands from the top of his briefcase.

He chuckled to himself before calling out to you. "Never mind, dear! The little bugger was at the bottom of my case this entire time!" 

He wasn't the type to forget these things. He was always so organized, sometimes to a fault.

And you knew that.

And Alastor knew that you knew that.

But he wasn't worried. You'd never doubt him. Whatever pesky little thought you had related to him, you'll just brush off easily.

He'd made sure of that.

Alastor heard you playfully scold him, your soft laughter rung through his home.

"—I guess you can say he really nailed that Chicago overcoat!" The annoying little shit on the radio joked just as you entered the room.

Alastor spared it one quick glare before his sight fell on you once more. You didn't seem to care for the joke much, but your eyes did linger on the dials of the radio for a second too long Alastor thought.

"Does the radio seem a bit louder to you, Al?" You asked him.

Ah, he must have turned it back a tad bit too far.

He looked at you with faux confusion. "'fraid I don't know what you mean, dear. Why would it be louder?" He stood up, closing the briefcase in front of him and straightening out his collar. "But I do have to split now, darling, or the ol' big cheese would have my head."

Your eyes met his warm chestnut ones. Alastor could practically see the way you brushed away your silly concerns in your head, a soft smile once again gracing your lips. 

He knew you were confused as to why his boss supposedly needed him at work on a Sunday.

He knew you wanted to ask why.

He knew that, at least some part of you, didn't fully believe that he was headed off to the radio station. 

If you were smart you'd have listened to it.

But you were his wife. 

So you simply nodded in understanding, moving closer to where Alastor stood. You made to grab for the suit jacket that still hung on his arm but the tall man was quick to pull it high above your reach.

"Not so fast there, darling." He teased, smiling down at you.

"It's cold out, dear. I'll help you put your coat on," You insisted, small, delicate hands reached up for the jacket.

Alastor stepped back from you, briefly tapping his fingertip against your nose. "And who said I was in any hurry to cover up this lovely new shirt my wife got for me?" He teased, snapping the suspenders he wore against the crisp white shirt.

He simply adored it when he made heat color your soft cheeks. He loved seeing proof of his effect on you.

His eyes drifted to the clock behind you, his smile straining just a tiny bit when he realized what time it was.

He'd miss his mark if he wasted any more time here.

"In any case, darling, I really do have to dash," He smiled back at you, already heading towards the door before you could say anything else. "But do keep yourself free, baby. I'll be back before you know it." He shot a wink at you.

He grabbed his hat from the coat rack and plopped it neatly on his head, then he was out the door in a second. 

Alastor let out a short, tired breath.

Sometimes, he did find your love to be a bit tiring. But he supposed, at the moment, it was still worth much more than the hassle it caused him.

He hurriedly strolled down the street, smiling and greeting everyone that passed by him politely. His ego stroked just a little bit with every flustered dame.

He didn't care for any of them, but he never grew tired of knowing the charming effect he had on people.

Alastor tried to clear his head of you as he hopped into a taxi. He laughed as the cabby recognized him almost immediately, but he didn't pay the man any mind as he yapped about how much of a fan he was.

Instead, he found that his thoughts have annoyingly strayed back to you. He's found that you've been so persistently present in his mind lately.

One would think that sounded so romantic, that he was a cold man finally falling for a sweet little thing.

But in reality he was weighing his options.

You've always been so behaved, so meek.

He found you endearing, that much was true.

You were great company, after all. You loved the same music he did, kept up with his dancing, and sang so beautifully along whenever he tickled the ivory keys.

You dressed up to compliment his style, even if it wasn't to your comfort. Smiled at all the wretched people, even as they gossiped behind your back. Perfectly prepared and happily ate every dish he liked, even stranger ones you found hard to stomach.

Because you shaped yourself to be his partner. You did everything and anything that you could to gain his approval.

And that was indeed endearing. The lengths you went to, just to hear a simple praise from him.

Alastor used to wonder if there was ever a limit to it, but as the times flew by he realized you were just too happy to rewrite even your own logic just to stay by his side.

And it was also true that you were a brilliant cover.

As a taken man, there were much less people prying into his life as opposed to when he was an eligible bachelor. And no odd rumors ever spread about him thanks to how behaved you were.

People saw him as soft, gentle, caring. Because a violent, murderous, psycho could never keep a delicate little thing like you as his wife, could he?

Yes, you definitely had your perks. That much he already knew.

But you've been so restless lately. So oddly, insistent on being by his side more. 

He'd tried to talk it out of you. Whispered how he was so lucky that you weren't like other wives. How you trusted him and respected his space. How you didn't nag him like a terrible partner would.

And it worked...for a while.

Until you've been fixated on getting the darn basement door open, at least. Somehow, you had it stuck in your brain that opening that stupid lock would have proved your worth to him.

You've been visiting that mug of a shopkeep at the locksmiths so often that Alastor just simply had to get rid of him already. He returned the useless tools he sold you last time too of course. He didn't quite like others making a fool out of what was his.

Only he could do that.

The cab stopped by a rather classy bar, the driver letting out a low whistle, going on about how they also wished that they could live up the big life.

Alastor tipped him generously, bidding him a great day as he stepped out.

He tossed his jacket on quickly before he adjusted his bowtie in the reflective glass window of the building. This was, he thought, his second favorite part of it all.

For such a detached man, Alastor loved many things.

He loved meeting his victims for the first time in person. The thrill of so many eyes on him as he clasped their clammy palms in greeting.

He loved talking to them, watching their eyes light up as he mentioned what they wanted the most. That moment where he knew he had hit the nail on the head and found out exactly what made these scum tick.

He loved using it against them, luring them to a false sense of security.

And, his absolute favorite part, he loved dragging the sharp edge of his knife against the skin of their necks. The lovely shade of red bleeding down their stiffening bodies.

He just can't help but love—

"My darling?" A voice—your voice—rung out in the dark alley. 

There wasn't time. There was no time to hide the body, toss the knife, flee from the scene.

There was no time to come up a with a story, a lie, a cover.

Because you were right there, standing in the alley with him. His blood stained hands and the corpse by his feet plainly in your view.

Even with the blood smudged on the lenses of his glasses, he could see the fear in your eyes, the gears turning in your head as you tried to process the scene in front of you.

It's a real shame. Earlier today he had decided that you still had more purpose to serve him. That he could still put up with you. That he would still be able to stomp out whatever stubborn will riled you up lately.

Clearly that wasn't the case anymore.

"Now, now, dearest," He started, hand reaching out to you as he held the knife still in his hand.

Your feet moved, but to Alastor's shock you ran to him.

Your panicked eyes took in the violent red that stained the pristine white shirt as you took his outstretched hand in both of yours.

"We should go," You hurriedly whispered, fearful eyes met his confused ones. "You can't be seen here."

You tugged him along the streets, careful to keep yourself in front of him as you tried to hide most parts of him stained with red.

Alastor's eyes were wide, his long legs working on their own as he tried to understand what exactly was happening.

"Dearest?" He whispered to catch your attention. "I just chopped off a man, you know that, right?" 

Your steps didn't falter as you hurried along, but you didn't turn your head to look at him either.

"Yes," You responded. The tight knot against your throat kept you from saying anything more.

"I sliced his throat open," Alastor continued to prod more. "His blood is all over me, in fact."

You whip your head around in urgency. You meant to shut him up. You meant to warn him not to talk so loud, that you couldn't be too sure who could be around to overhear.

But when your fearful eyes met his calm, warm, sweet, ones you ended up swallowing against your dry throat. Adorning a shaky smile instead.

"And I'm sure you did it to keep yourself safe, dear." You said, although it seemed as though you were trying to convince yourself of that.

It was as if a light bulb lit up in Alastor's head. He finally understood what was happening. He fought against his own body to keep himself from smiling as he stared into your uncertain eyes.

"I knew you'd understand," He feigned a sigh. His hand, that was previously unresponsive in yours, curled its fingers to hold onto you. "I knew I would be safe with you, my darling wife."

Alastor noted the way your stiff shoulders slacked at his words. As if you were waiting for his praise; as if you were waiting for that little bit of confirmation to fully push away all those pesky, silly, little doubts you held.

As if you were begging to have the slightest bit of reason to cling onto, to prove that there was no cause to leave your spot beside him.

"If anyone asks," You said softly, your hand reached out to wipe away the little bit of blood on his cheek. "I'll tell them you came home early to me. You did promise that you would come back quickly, anyway."

Alastor smiled down at you, letting himself lean into your touch as you seemed to love it when he does. "I am so lucky that you love me, doll."

You continued to lead him down the streets, sticking to less lit areas as you did so.

Alastor couldn't stop the grin from spreading widely across his face.

Because you did love him. You loved Alastor with all your sanity it seemed, but he was, unfortunately, far too happy to take advantage of that.

It was a huge weight off his shoulders really. 

Alastor enjoyed the hunt, the kill, but the clean up? Not so much.

While yes, he did enjoy tricking people into eating up his stories, misdirecting them this way and that, silently mocking how clueless they were. It was still such a pain to have to constantly make sure his stories were air tight. 

He didn't have to do that anymore, though. Not when all his darling wife had to do was smile shyly at people and hint that he was back home all night busy with more usual pleasures.

It wasn't even that hard to convince you to let him stay out late, hunt to his heart's content.

It was all just bad, terrible people. Scum of the earth. Dangers that could hurt you, or others. And Alastor, the dashing, selfless, secret knight in shinning armor was willing to dirty his hands if it meant keeping people safe. He'd taken on the burden so everyone else didn't have to.

Your husband, a great, tragic hero.

And besides, it's not like he asked you to kill someone. All you had to do was lie a little. Nothing grand, nothing elaborate—he wasn't so sure you'd be able to handle it after all—just smile, and hint, and spread a few insignificant white lies. 

It was easy enough, wasn't it?

And your little love for him did everything else. Your own lovesick mind fought your instincts without Alastor even doing much of anything else.

You convinced yourself so quickly that all this blood, all this violence, all this murder, just made your husband an even greater man.

Ah, he truly did love the way you loved him.

You were with him now down in the basement—Alastor conveniently finally figured out how to open the stubborn padlock—and if he was being honest, he never really imagined you joining him here.

Well, not alive anyway.

You watched him as he neatly packed the most latest body into a bag and burn the gloves he used during the act. Going through his simple routine to make sure he could continue to get away scot-free.

Alastor noticed how your eyes always averted from the corpses, insistent on staying on his form instead. He didn't really mind it, but oh did he enjoy that little spark of fear you worked hard to stomp down whenever your glance landed on a limb or two. 

He heaved the bag over his shoulder, before finally fully turning to you. "Well, let's get a move on, shall we, darling?" He smiled cheerfully, motioning with his arm for you to head up the stairs first.

You were glad to do so it seemed, you always were. You didn't have to watch your husband dispose of bodies, but Alastor found it rather cathartic how you've now started to cringe away from the basement door, after weeks of pestering him over opening it.

A little lesson, he thought. Well deserved. 

And look how behaved you were now again.

The walk to the nearby woods was uneventful. Silent. Routine.

Unlike the first time around he dragged you along. You kept wondering and wondering until you finally asked out loud how Alastor knew the streets so well. How he knew where to go where no one would see him. The man you saw him kill was the first one, wasn't he?

He laughed at your unsure smile, brushing your worries off with the flimsiest excuses. How he'd been home late so many times already because of work. How he just preferred to take the quieter roads so as to decompress from all his adoring fans—fans who weren't you.

And it was enough.

Because you foolishly trusted him. You wanted to believe him, and so you did.

Alastor hummed cheerfully as he continued to shovel dirt over his most recent victim. He was certainly far enough into the woods not to care too much about being overheard, anyway.

A sudden soft beeping noise joined his melody, and he looked down at his—rather expensive—watch.

"Would you look at the time! I hadn't realized it was already so late. Time surely flies when you're saving the world, right, darling?" He looked over his shoulder at your unsure form.

You stood hunched over, your back against a tree, and your arms wrapped around yourself, a fair distance from the man burying a body.

Your eyes avoided the hole in the dirt as you painted a strained smile on your face. 

Saving the world.

Alastor could practically see the way you tried to remind yourself that that is what your husband was doing.

"It's hard to keep track when you've got a lot do," You vaguely answer, choosing your words carefully.

It's not that you worried Alastor would do anything to you. But you were, unknowingly, cautious of any single thing that could trigger any more silly concerns within yourself.

Alastor hummed in response, his eyes staring at the mangled corpse he threw in the ditch. "They'll be looking for me at work if I don't show up soon, though." He thought out loud. "But I can't exactly leave this rotten stiff like this, can I?"

He sounded troubled. He looked troubled, with that wrinkle between his brow.

A good wife would soothe him.

A good wife wouldn't stand around watching her spouse do all the hard work.

He didn't need to say it though, not that he had any mind to. You heard his voice in your head regardless. 

Your timid, unsure voice spoke up. "I...I could stay behind and continue burying it?" It sounded like a question.

One that it seemed like you hoped the answer was no. 

Except you'd be a horrible wife for thinking that. You should be praying that he'd say yes.

After all, a good wife would do anything to help her husband.

Alastor froze for a second, his eyes catching yours from above his glasses before he adjusted them up his nose. 

Then you were rewarded with a smile.

"My darling wife, always so helpful," He cooed, walking towards you. He dropped the shovel to the ground and wrapped his arms around your waist, almost lovingly.

Alastor could feel how fast your heart beat in your chest, almost fighting to get out. "But I could never ask a lovely doll like you to do such a dirty job like this." He tsked as he looked down at you.

"I can handle it, my dear," You responded, eyes bright with stars at his praises. It was almost as if you'd forgotten what exactly it was you were agreeing to.

Alastor pretended to think for a moment, but his eyes caught sight of the watch on his wrist and decided he didn't exactly have time to enjoy playing with you more.

"Only if you promise not to get caught, my darling." He smiled down at you, and you quickly nodded, promising you'll do a good job and meet him at home.

He pressed his cold lips chastely against your forehead, and left you with a corpse in the woods to bury.

But it's just that, anyway. Nothing too much to ask for.

It's not like you killed him.

And he was probably a horrible person to begin with.

Right?

You brushed away the heavy, gnawing feeling, as you met the glassy unseeing eyes of the corpse in the ground.

Alastor surely knew what he was doing. And you loved him enough to do this simple thing to help with that.

Just as you shoveled in one patch of dirt to cover the man's eyes, you heard a loud gun shot echo through the early morning woods.

You jumped out of your skin, cold hands gripping the shovel as the sound rung out.

Your heart was at your throat as goosebumps littered your skin. 

Alastor.

You ran. You barely registered your own body moving until you felt the cold air whipping against your face as your legs carried you to where your husband went.

Worry. It all but consumed you, as your blood rushed loudly in your ears and your heart pounded.

Please be okay. Please be okay.

Please—

You didn't know what you were doing. You didn't recall it. You didn't feel any of it.

You remembered seeing your husband's body collapsed and bloodied on the forest floor.

You remembered seeing someone with a gun standing panicked over him. 

But no, you didn't remember when you ran at the culprit.

You didn't remember the feeling of stabbing the shovel into their side, nor the warmth of their blood as it splashed on your cold skin.

You didn't remember bashing the steel against their skull with all your might; the metal dented and morphed as it disfigured the man's face.

You didn't remember screaming until your throat was raw. You didn't remember the tears scrolling down your bloodied cheeks. You didn't remember the horrible, unbearably cold, ache in your chest.

You didn't remember staring down the barrel of a shaky gun.

You didn't remember dying.

All you remembered, was the feeling of Alastor's warm arms embracing you as he pressed his welcoming lips to your forehead. 

And how you knew you'd never feel it again.

At least, you didn't think you would.

You blinked in confusion as you stared up the man—thing?—that caught you in their arms like a bride.

"I guess someone ought to rewrite those wedding vows because death didn't seem to do us part!" It laughed. Its voice sounded as if you were merely listening to it from a radio.

No, wait. Sure the thing that caught you also laughed, but you could have sworn you heard a whole crowd do so as well. Strangely, almost like a laugh track.

It's sharp yellow teeth showed proudly as it grinned down on you, and you couldn't help but cringe away a tiny bit from fear.

What are you? You wanted to ask, but you knew better than to be blunt.

You wouldn't want those nasty paper folk to catch wind of Alastor's little wife being rude—

Except. Were you still his wife? Where was he anyway? Where were you?

The thing that held you laughed cheerfully as it gently set you down onto your own feet. "Darling, I will never get enough of how easy you are to read," The thing said, twirling it's cane—microphone?—in it's hand before it leaned on it to study you. 

You got a strangely familiar heavy feeling in your gut, but before you could think much of it, your arm was looped through its as it pulled you along to a shop window.

"It seems you're a tiny bit confused, my darling," It said with a bright smile. "It's alright, you weren't always the brightest bulb in the room, but you certainly made up for it with your passion." It chuckled, once again a laugh track following its words from seemingly nowhere.

You felt the tip of its microphone at your chin, tilting it so that you'd turn your gaze from him to the shop window.

You almost jumped away, like an animal not recognizing itself in the mirror.

It took you a minute to realize that you looked at your own reflection.

You even waved your hands around and tilted your head to make sure it followed your movements. To make sure this was real.

You looked nothing like yourself. Hell, you looked nothing human.

"Truthfully, I'm a little offended, dear." The thing beside you spoke up, now turning to his own reflection as he adjusted his bowtie and dusted off his red pinstriped suit. Something oddly familiar.

"It took me less than a second to recognize you, and you still seem to not even know who I am." It said, glancing at you from the corner of its bright red eyes.

Your gaze trailed up to the top of its red hair, seeing two small horns—at least that's what you thought they were. 

"The devil?" You asked cautiously, still confused. "Am I in Hell?"

It let out a hum at your response. "One of two. I suppose it's one of your better shots, my dear." It said.

It turned to face you, suddenly leaning down close, so as to have it's mouth right by your ear. Your body freezes on instinct as it spoke.

"Must I really bed you again for you to remember me, darling? Or would watching me bury another body be enough to jog your memory?"

You leaned back, only enough to catch a look at the thing's face. The knowing eyes that seemed so warm, so inviting, so charming, despite how monstrous they looked. The smile that seemed incapable of falling.

The familiar feeling that brewed in your gut.

"Alastor?" You asked, your now clawed hands reached up to caress his cheeks, and the thing—your husband—leaned into it. His eyes briefly closed.

"Took you long enough, really." He said, a joking exasperation in his tone. 

The thing—your husband, you had to remind yourself again—abruptly pulled away, his tone bright and cheery as he began to drag you along the streets with a heavy clawed hand on the small of your back. "Now enough of that! Time for more important business, darling!"

"Wait, Alastor? How? What?" You stammered, attempting to pull away to take a second to breathe and clear your head.

The hand that guided you slid to the side of your waist, pulling you tightly against it's Alastor's side. "Ah, my darling thing. Always so slow on the uptake." He shook his head as if he found it adorable. "We're in Hell, dear!"

The words rang loudly in your ears, your heart sinking to your stomach.

"And we have important business to take care of, yes indeed!" Alastor continued, not letting you process a single thought. "And for this, I'll need a partner I can trust! I'll need a partner who I can rely on! I'll need someone absolutely devoted to me." His eyes met yours but he saw how the alarm still outweighed his words.

His eyes narrowed, lowering his face abruptly to yours, to the point where you could feel his breath on your skin. He wanted your attention, all of it, and didn't really care all that much about what else you had to think about.

"Hellooo? Anybody home?" He joked, tilting his head as he saw your eyes come back to focus on him. "Ah, there you are, dear. Thought I lost you for a moment."

You supposed you could think things through later. Even if Alastor looked terribly different now, this was still your caring husband after all. And he needed something.

A devoted parter? Was that what he said?

"Well, you know I'm always here for you, Al. Whatever this plan of yours is." You tried to paint a smile on your lips as you always have.

"Oh, but how exactly do I know that?" Alastor stood back up to his full height, his head tilting as he smiled down at you.

Your brows furrow. You don't quite know how to tell him that. You swore you've done so much for this man, and yet when trying to think of an example, none came to mind.

You cooked and cleaned and looked pretty for him? Spent time with him? Loved him? Lie for him? Hide a body for him? That's just what a good wife would do.

But you supposed—you think—you killed for him.

"I avenged you?" It came out more of a question than an answer. "I killed for you."

Alastor didn't blink as he responded. "Then do it again."

Your mouth ran dry.

Had you heard him correctly? Was it a joke?

You waited for the laugh track to play but none came.

"What do you mean...exactly?" You asked with a nervous laugh, your lips straining to keep the smile.

"Kill for me again," Alastor casually said. He turned, eyes locking onto a random demon further down the street you walked along on. He raised his microphone to point at them, turning his head—unnaturally—to face you again.

"Like that one. I suppose he'll do." His tone was still as cheerful as ever.

You follow to where he pointed, eyes hesitantly looking at the creature. 

You quickly looked back up to meet your husband's gaze. That feeling was there again.

And you weren't sure if it was the fact that you just died, or the sheer lunacy of the request, but you finally realized what it was.

Doubt.

You doubted Alastor.

"Why?" Your voice was small. "Is he a bad person too?"

Alastor rolled his eyes. "Hell, if I know dear. I've only just seen him now. But we are in Hell, you know?" His shoulders casually shrugged as if he didn't really care. "So, maybe?"

You tried to hide the tremble in your voice. Tried to hide how you doubted him. "But I already killed for you. Why do I need to prove my devotion even more?"

"You killed out of passion, darling. It hardly counts." He laughed, as if you were being so silly.

You're left with even more questions when Alastor grabbed your wrist, and you melted into shadows before re-appearing right in front of your supposed victim.

"What the fuck?" They exclaimed, jumping back.

"Good day, good fellow! The name's Alastor! Pleasure to be meeting you, quite the pleasure!" Your darling husband stepped in front and forcibly shook the confused sinner's hand.

Alastor waved a hand in your direction to showcase you. "This right here is the Mrs., and she'll be killing you now."

You flinched as Alastor's voice further distorted.

Black tentacles wrapped around the now thrashing demon. And to your horror, you realized they came from your still-grinning husband's back.

His red eyes now consumed by black as he looked down at you expectantly.

"I...I don't have a knife." You avoided his eyes and looked away.

Alastor's head tilted. "You have claws now, dear."

You felt bile raise to your throat at the idea of ripping some stranger apart with your own hands.

"It'd be terribly difficult if these clothes get stained. Who knows where I could get new ones in...Hell." You had to spit the word out. "A-and, we're out in the open. Anyone can see us, there might be police here o-or their friends and family."

"You won't do it." Alastor cut off your rambling, more of a statement than a question.

You didn't meet his eyes.

You heard him sigh in dismay. "Well, it's alright, my dear. I suppose I knew your love for me had its limits."

Your eyes widen in shock, head whipping to look at him in panic. There was disappointment in his gaze as he looked away from you. Even as his smile remained painted on his lips, you could see how he seemed to shrink away from you.

"That's not true!" You half yelled, ignoring the struggling demon still held off the ground. "I'd go to the ends of the earth for you. I'd give up my life for you. I followed you to Hell, even! How could you even think that my love for you isn't boundless, Alastor?"

"Because it isn't." He sighed, his clawed hand gripped his microphone tight as he started to walk around you. "You say you'd do anything for me, that you'd give everything up for me. But I'm asking you for something so simple, and you couldn't even do that."

Your shoulders stiffen, you try to turn your head to follow him around. "This is not simple, Alastor." You said, a tinge of hysteria creeping into your voice. "You're asking me to kill someone for you, again."

"Wrong." Your husband said in a rather, sing-song manner. A jarring buzzer effect played at his words.

"I'm asking you to kill someone who is already dead." Alastor explained, barely paying mind to the sinner who now just looked very uncomfortable. "And you're already in Hell."

He looked at you as if you were stupid not to have put this together yourself. "He won't lose anything. You won't lose anything. There is nothing to give up with this tiny request of mine."

He stopped walking in front of you, but a greater deal of distance away now than when he started.

"And yet you can't even do that, my love."

You glanced down at your hands—your claws—in uncertainty.

That persistent feeling—doubt—swallowed you whole as you stood there willing your body not to move.

You should stop.

Run.

Never look back.

But instead your body moved toward the sinner; sharp, shaking, hands hesitatingly sinking into their flesh.

Once. Twice. Thrice. You couldn't be useless to your husband.

Their muffled screams sounded so far away from you, even as they yelled right by your ears.

You felt it.

Their skin giving way and the blood dampening your clothes each and every time you sank your soft, delicate, clawed hands into him.

The feeling of your long claws coming into contact and tearing through whatever bone or muscle stood in their way.

The awful, gut wrenching, guilt that swallowed your chest.

You hated it.

Alastor's hand clasps affectionately at your shoulder as he watched you cheerfully. Enjoying the conflict in your eyes as your heart died with every drop of blood that spilled from your hands.

"I think I may have just fallen so deeply in love with you, my dear wife." He cooed into your ear.

And your chest didn't flutter, or grow, or skip a beat like you had thought it would at those words.

But it's probably just the guilt, right?

It's just because so much has happened that you couldn't process anything.

Because you still loved Alastor, didn't you?

You loved him with your very soul, but he was a liar, and you may have finally started to see it.

Taglist @lil-bexie / @mizukikyong / @amurtan / @fokrilove / @fairyv-ice 

[veren-cos]

Bachelors (sdv) x gn!reader

Bachelors and self-harm comfort

TW mentions of Self Harm and suicidal ideation.

If you struggle with either of these, I strongly encourage you to reach out to someone and get help. You are not alone.

These are not super graphic, but definitely more graphic than my other fics if you have read those. So please read with caution.

These are all assuming you are in an established relationship.

Sam

• This was a long standing issue for you. You knew Sam would find out eventually one way or another, so you made it a point to tell him rather then him accidentally finding out.

• But when you did tell him, it was pure panic.

• He doesn't know how to help you, he didn't know how he never noticed! Does he tell anyone? Does he call anyone? Why didn't you tell him until now??

• Once he gathers himself a little bit, he asks for more details.

• He knows that you need him, and not to make it about him by breaking down.

• He starts keeping an extra eye out for if you are acting any different, or if he sees any warning signs.

• He tries really hard to be there for you, and knows he won't be perfect.

• Makes a trip to Harvey's to ask how to help 'someone' who struggles with sh and suicidal ideation.

• Harvey suggested that Sam brings that 'someone' to the clinic with him to have a little chat.

• You and Sam head down one day and you all make a plan on what to do when things get really bad.

• Mostly involves extra support, and you getting into a therapist on a semi-regular basis.

Sebastian

• Sebastian I think would be the most aware of the signs besides Harvey?

• So when he sees you avoiding him a bit, or not letting him touch you when normally you're all over him, he knows something is wrong.

• "Babe, whats up?" He gentle grabs your arm. "What's wrong? You've been acting different for a while now. Are you okay?"

• He isn't accusatory or anything when you tell him. He just pulls you into a tight hug.

• He just wants to be there for you. Self Harm is a really difficult topic, both to experience, and to witness. He tries to get to the cause of why you do it, but you honestly don't even know.

• You know you shouldn't, but sometimes it feels like all you can do.

• After talking about it for a long time, you eventually go to sleep in his arms.

• When you wake up, he already had some sort of breakfast made because he knew you'd be too tired.

• He left out some super old books about mental health he had (Aka like one from high school) and offered to look through them with you.

• Checks in with you frequently, and isn't one to dance around the topic. Yes, he handles it gently and shocking calmly, but he knows you can't avoid talking about it.

Alex

• Not going to lie, the way I see a relationship progressing (Aka kinda intense and fast paced) he would find out before intimacy.

• You were already a little nervous so you completely blanked on your old scars and relatively new self harm.

• So when he saw, you panicked, and then he panicked because you were panicking, and all around it was chaos.

• Nothing went to plan that day because you just ran to the bathroom to cry.

• ...

• He knocked on the door, "babe.. Could you come out please? We should talk about this."

• "I don't want to"

• " Babe come on." He tried the handle and it opened.

• "It's okay. You're okay. I'm not mad, now can you talk to me about this?"

• You opened up and told him everything. With Alex being the most stereotypically attractive out of all the Bachelor's, you'd be very nervous about letting him see scars.

• But he doesn't care. He thinks they are proof of how strong you are and how far you have come.

• "Babe I just want to be here for you. We don't have to rush anything. I don't care if you have scars, you're beautiful. I love you, and you will get through this."

Harvey

• Harvey finds out during your first physical.

• This I feel would be just after you started dating.

• But he asks the dreaded question of "have you had thoughts of hurting yourself or others?"

• You knew you had to tell him. No matter how awkward or emotionally taxing it got, it was important both in your relationship and for your personal health.

• So you did.

• He let his little doctor mask slip because he thought he already knew all your medical business, and that this was just a formality.

• "Dear..?" He looked so sad for you. "Why haven't you told me this?"

• Legit starts tearing up, because how on earth could you hate yourself? And to the point of hurting yourself?

• You start apologizing for not telling him sooner, "Harvey we had just started dating, I didn't want to put too much on you too soon. This is my problem to deal with!"

• And then he takes a few deep breaths, and collects himself to do this in a more professional manner.

• "My love, you do not have to go through this alone. I need you to tell me if you ever feel like.. hurting yourself. Okay? Call me. Call the clinic. Get me if I'm home. I will be there for you."

• "Even if we weren't dating, I would still be there for you! So no matter how much I care for you, because I so deeply care for you, this is my job."

• Sets you up with a therapist in the city, because he knows that even if you know you can talk to him, it's good to have a non-personal professional to be able to talk to.

Shane

• You helped him, now it was his turn to help you.

• Found out a morning he woke up early and you forgot to close the bathroom door. Not a fun scene to wake up to.

• I don't want to say he got angry, but he shouted,

• "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?"

• It was more out of sheer panic and distress rather than anger.

• You panicked, dropped everything, and basically burst into tears on the spot apologizing.

• Then he freaked out even more because he yelled at you and ran to give you a tight hug.

• Shane tried to calm you down, but it took a really long time to get you to stop hyperventilating.

• Eventually, he helped you clean everything up, and although it was really hard for you, he took you to Harvey's.

• Shane knew that he wouldn't be able to give you all the help you needed, he was still recovering himself.

• But he tries really hard to help, the same way you do with him.

• He helped you set up going to a therapist. You go to the same office as he does.

• He will be there for you every step of the way. Won't let you go.

• He truly understands, and just wants the both of you to feel better.

Elliott

• He would feel guilty for not noticing the signs.

• "My love..?" He is just so confused when he sees. "My love what did you do?"

• Doesn't exactly panic but is just dumbfounded. How could you hate yourself? How could you not like yourself? Why on earth..?

• He helps you clean up, though is a little queezy with blood.

• He would keep himself relatively strong in front of you, but you hear him crying for you when he thinks you're asleep.

• He is there for you, he asks Leah because he trusts her (though would not actually bring up your name. Would make it under the guise of a situation in his book)

• He wouldn't invade your privacy. But he just would check with you a lot more.

• He loves you, and just wants to see you love yourself.

An* Once again, if you struggle with self harm or suicidal ideation, please reach out for help. Helplines and resources are a quick Google away for your area. You are not alone. I promise things will get better.

Masterlist

[ymechi]

Who is the real Creator?

Sorry this took so long I have so much to say but I have no idea where to start. I hope you guys are okay with how it ended and the decision I made. This is a yandere au but with Nahida it is platonic (and the rest of the underage characters).

-TW: cult au, yandere, impostor au, mentions of being hunted down, mentions of trauma, self harm (nothing major)

-Gn reader and darling (please tell me if I mess this up message me and I will fix it)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, this is part 5, part 6

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

Reader began to unpack their stuff, it was mostly clothes and books, everything else like cooking utensils was unnecessary as there were attendants who would handle stuff like cooking and cleaning. Reader guessed that was the perks of being an Archon.

The room was a bit of a mess the large doors were open and the boxes littered the floor with various trinkets and Readers personal belongings. 

One should not look down on how much stuff one can gather, even in a foreign world. Soon they would be able to write poems with how well their vocabulary had gotten.

Reader took out a shirt and folded it neatly putting it inside the nicely carved wardrobe. They felt a little out of place in the spacious and very fancy room. Yet there was a certain charm towards it, Reader especially loved the tall glass windows that let the sunlight in.

"I see you are already settling in."

"Oh, Nahida! I did not see you there, yeah I thought it was best to do it while I could."

"You know there are attendants if you ever need help, please don't feel too bad it's their job after all."

"Well if you put it that way. . . I guess I could use a hand with the rest of the clothes." 

Reader had underestimated how many clothes they had, it was boring to fold them and sort them all. They had bought most of their clothes and personal items as both Nahida and Reader did not know the extent of the tension that Darling's reveal would cause.

They looked through the boxes and one object caught Readers eye. It shined as the sun reflected on it. Reader took it out and observed it. This was a gift Darling had given them, it was a Fanoos that was intricately carved and made out of polished gold. The lantern's glass was made out of various colors in geometrical shapes. Overall it was very beautiful something Reader would like.

Speaking of. . .

"Nahida what will happen to Darling after. . . you know?"

Nahida watched the lantern that was in their hand without saying anything and then looked at Reader with a smile.

"It was decided that they would go to an isolated temple in Inazuma for their own safety. Even if they are innocent we can't be too careful what others might do."

Well, at least Darling would be safe there was no need to worry after all they had the Raiden shogun. Inazuma would be far away though.

They looked at the Fanoos, it would be pretty to add it near the nightstand. . . There was already a lamp there, so they decided to put it on a bookshelf instead.

"It looks very nice on the shelf there," said Nahida.

"Yeah, I am glad you think so too," replied Reader.

Reader saw a familiar hat figure silhouette from the open door. It was Wanderer as they had expected, curiously he was carrying several moving boxes as well.

"That is right I forgot to tell you Wanderer decided for extra security to move in here as well, I saw no reason to turn him down."

"O-oh but is it fine for him to just move like that because of me?"

Wanderer must have heard the conversation as he turned to look directly at them. He nodded toward Reader who gave him a small wave. After the status of Readers creator-hood was revealed Wanderer had taken to being polite to Reader but after some more nagging on their part, he had mellowed down a bit. He did tease them from time to time as was normal between them.

Reader hoped with time they could go back to the usual scowling Wanderer who did not hesitate to say what was on his mind.

However, that did make Reader ponder why he turned polite while Nahida stayed the same.

Reader must have been staring at Nahida as the Archon looked at them with a tilted head.

"I see you two are talking behind my back, not very nice I must say."

"We were just talking about your new living arrangements," she looked at Wanderer with an innocent look, "you know, it made their grace feel really bad."

Reader snorted at Nahida's jab at getting into Wanderer.

Wanderer looked surprised but sighed looking at Reader with a sincere expression they did not expect to get today.

"There is no need to concern yourself with that I chose to move out of my own violation, no one forced me to."

Reader gave an awkward smile and wrung their hands together.

"Alright, but I still feel bad-," Wanderer sighed at Reader, "let me finish! I feel bad so if you need any help come to me okay?"

Wanderer looked like he was about to turn down the offer until Nahida interjected.

"Actually since you both are moving in how about we all take a shopping trip to buy decorations, you can then ask Reader for advice on what to buy, two birds in one stone."

"A shopping trip sounds nice," Reader said and looked at Wanderer with hopeful eyes.

Wanderer closed his eyes and sighed.

"It seems you won't let this go, fine then let me put these stuff down and we can go down to the market."

Nahida and Reader looked at each other with a smile. It was going to be a fun trip.

.

.

.

The sunset this day was a bright crimson and was fading into orange at the horizon. There was no cloud in sight. the people were gathered near the central temple in Sumeru. One of the Creator's temples. Reader grimaced.

They adjusted their hood once again feeling nervous not to get caught. Wanderer held their hand more tightly and they gave a squeeze back feeling thankful.

Soon one of the heads of the religion came out near the podium.

The people were confused and some were curious but it was clear soon everyone would find out what the gathering was for.

Nahida stepped up as well, and she began to speak. Then the priest took over and Reader watched everyone's face turn to shock and outrage.

Impostor.

Reader clenched their jaw and held Wanderer's hand tighter. He did not flinch or let go.

Nahida and the priest calmed the people down in the end but there was still much tension left.

By the end of it Reader and Wanderer left the place.

.

.

.

They met Nahida outside of a meeting room. She looked exhausted and Reader's heart ached. With clumsy hands, they took out a juice bottle they had.

"You look tired, please take some."

Nahida gave a small smile and nodded.

"Thank you."

Her voice was small and a bit hoarse no doubt from all the talking. Once again Reader felt awful not being able to do anything, especially since Nahida was a dear friend.

"Please don't worry about me I am fine, as an Archon this is one of the many duties I must attend to," her face turned more serious looking at Reader, "I am afraid we are not done yet this is your turn now."

Reader's shoulders squared and they nodded. Right, it was their turn now. No more running away and this time they were not alone either. Reader looked at their friends and gave a reassuring smile.

Nahida smiled and nodded at them before turning and opening the door.

It wasn't as intimidating as they had imagined when they entered the room. It was decided for Reader's sake they would ask the acolyte and Archons who would be able to attend to come and not tell anything of the importance of the meeting. Naturally since the recent announcement from the church most would be busy, only those who had time would come and it would not be a large group. It was better for Reader to start off small Nahida had recommended and they agreed.

The Archon’s that were able to attend were unsurprisingly Venti and Zhongli. Yet most people in the room would be unaware of the importance of such figures.

As they entered Nahida stepped in front of them while Wanderer walked behind them, they felt rather safe this way.

The others who had arrived were Diluc, Lisa, Cyno, Kujo Sara and Chlorinde. Quite the cast had come. Now all of their eyes were on the trio but mostly on Reader as they stood in front.

Nahida stepped up to speak but Reader beat them to it putting a hand in front of her, all while still looking at their audience.

The sky outside was just as red there was an odd silence in the wind. The shadows on the acolytes' faces deepened and their eyes became glaring embers of accusation evident on their eyes.

Impostor.

They had thought a lot about what to say, and there were many words and accusations they wanted to scream at the top of their lungs until Reader's voice became hoarse and dry. Yet what were words when actions could speak louder?

They took out the same kitchen knife from before on that day from their pocket. They did not bother to look at their reactions. Reader took out their palm and cut it and watched as it bled a brilliant gold. They were still unused to the sight themselves and took a moment to admire it.

They heard a sharp breath. Before anyone could speak they threw the knife onto the table.

Reader then left the room.

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Taglist: @resident-cryptid @probablynoposts @esthelily @mitsukashi @charming-mage @chaoticfivesworld @irisxiel @dulcedelechenginamo @yu-ulda @samohxt2-0 @pinkpainc @vianitry

[call-me-copycat]

Hey! Idk if you still write fics but if you do. Could you please write about Aizawa having a daughter who selfharms, but he didnt knew until one day he entered to her room and find her doing it?.

Its kind of an emergency so i would really apreciate if you wrote it 🩷

Hi! I'm really sorry for the slight delay, I've been bouncing between school during the day and work at night, so even though I saw your ask I couldn't physically write it due to exhaustion (⑉ ᷄ ⌳ ᷅ )ก

That being said, even though it's been a couple days I didn't want to leave you hanging! I got some rest and wrote as much as I could in one sitting!

I really do hope this helps, feel free to message me anytime if you need to vent or such ₍ᐢ‥ᐢ₎ ♡

What I Owe To You

*I listened to this on loop while writing*

➤ Welcome - Introduction and Request Rules (Requests are open + Some info about me)

▶ Characters: Just Aizawa and Reader

▶ Genre: Comfort + Slight Angst

▶ Summary: As the ask states

▶ Word Count: 2925

▶ WARNINGS:

- Self harm

- Depressive thoughts

- Overall lots of angst

Please don't read if any of this makes you uncomfortable!

The cycle always went on.

At this point you were afraid of what was to happen next. At the same time, the thought was pushed away by the constant emptiness that filled you through. The sticky tar-like hands of this unknown void ravaged your mind, shredding it apart piece by piece.

Leaving you constantly feeling... Hollow. It was difficult to describe it as anything else.

You walked to school everyday and went to your classes. You sat next to your classmates as they animatedly discussed the usual topics of training and what to do after school.

On the weekends, you slept. Sometimes went shopping with your father. Maybe you'd get visited by your Uncle Mic, other times you'd train.

There wasn't much variety. It was suffocating. These feelings had no place to spawn from, as your life wasn't much different from everyone else's. There didn't seem to be a reason, for all you knew. But it was there, no doubt about it. It made itself known.

-

It was a usual Friday night. You had completed all your classes and had the weekend to yourself. It felt pointless, there wasn't much to do. Nor did you have the energy for anything either.

Sitting in your room, you jumped a bit at the unexpected knock on your door. You had been gazing out of your bedroom window for who knew how long, zoning out as far from your mind as you could. You vaguely remembered that a storm was to come soon.

"Dinnertime. Wash up and come to the table when you're ready."

Your father's voice never failed to comfort you, and in a way he was one of the main beacons of light in your dark and foggy world. An unchanging pillar of strength, he held on tight to your cracking mind.

Slowly, tiredly, you made your way out of your room. As you passed by Aizawa, he couldn't help but sigh in response to your barely-there smile at him. You had a habit of doing that, possibly to keep him from worrying.

Truth be told, Aizawa always worried about you. Ever since you were young, he was on guard every second, trying to keep you from falling and scraping your knees, to keeping an eye on you during training.

Though recently, he had noticed some... changes. Your eyes began to grow dull, and their usual energy faded with each passing day. The bags under them grew more prominent, and in turn your hair began to be left more of a mess. Slowly, little things were building up, and he couldn't tell why.

It worried him sick, since the only thing he had in mind for you was for you to be happy and safe. Seeing your condition worsen with each day made him nauseous, as it was the last place he wanted you to be at. He wanted to help you, the best he could.

So that's why before you even sat down to eat, he began to question you.

"Are you feeling okay, [Name?]"

Truth be told, he knew you'd say you were fine. He just needed to soothe his frantic mind.

Looking up at him, you gave him another smile. He couldn't help but grimace at how forced it looked.

"Oh, of course I'm fine." You clenched your jaw at how unenthusiastic you sounded, but it would have to do.

Aizawa only felt uneasy. Too many things added up and gave him a weird taste in his mouth to leave it at that.

"Look at me, [Name]."

The unusual tone of his voice brought you out of your foggy state of mind as you looked up at him fully. Once you met his eyes properly, Aizawa took notice of the... Saddened expression that filled yours. He knew someone was wrong, but it was being covered.

"You'd tell me if something was wrong, right?"

He needed to know if you trusted him. He needed to be the one person you trusted in life. This was all or nothing.

Your eyes went wide for a split second as your breath hitched, but you quickly shook it off. His bluntness was what caught you off guard.

"Really, it's nothing Papa." You tried smiling once more, raising a hand out a bit in an attempt to calm him. You knew it was a pitiful attempt, but you didn't have the energy to make it convincing. Alongside that, Aizawa was generally a very tough man to fool. It'd take a lot to actually pass anything through him.

Aizawa's eyes narrowed in response as he saw your reaction to his question. Your body language indicated how uncomfortable you were, and he didn't want to push you too far past your limits.

It was tough, but he decided to give it up in the end and hope you'd come to him whenever you were ready. You always shared everything with him since you were young, and he had gained a large amount of trust over you in turn.

-

Dinner was eaten in silence, and as soon as it was over you bid your father a goodnight before heading off to your room.

Aizawa stayed seated at the kitchen table as he watched you walk off, wondering what was happening to his child. He couldn't bear the thought of you struggling with something alone. He had been there your whole life to help you get through everything you passed by, so why weren't you letting him in now?

After much deliberation, he got up from his spot at the table and made his way to your room. He needed to finish this conversation, and he needed to know what was going on. His mind had been sprawled all over the place for the last few months, as he'd been observant enough to catch on to the smallest changes you went through. Seeing you go into such a decline was like a punch straight through to his heart.

His mind was in such a haze that he threw open your door without second thought, seeing as he normally takes care to knock first. The room was pitch black, but based off of the startled gasp that came from you and the clanging of metal hitting the ground, Aizawa felt his blood freeze in fear.

Quickly flipping on the light, his eyes widened at the site that laid in front of him. You didn't have any time to cover yourself, so Aizawa saw it all.

The bandages laid out.

The blades.

And most importantly, your cuts.

You felt your eyes water at the expression on your father's face, guilt and self-loathing bleeding into your mind.

Aizawa was stuck in shock for a moment. It felt as though all time was warped as he saw what was his worst nightmare laid out in front of him. He was quickly snapped back to reality at the sound of your sobs that echoed throughout the room.

He swiftly made his way towards you from across your room, and in one smooth movement he pulled you into his lap, hugging you tightly to himself.

He had known something was wrong, felt it deep in his heart, but he didn't realize how serious it truly was. His heart ached for you as his grip only grew tighter around you. Aizawa didn't want you to hide these things from him, and in a way, he felt disappointed at your lack of trust towards him. All his disappointment and anger quickly dissipated, leaving him to face his worry and guilt.

"[Name]..."

He could hear his voice tremble, but couldn't care less.

"Why? I-" He was stuck in shock. It was something he never thought he'd run into. Looking down at you, his worry for your well-being grew tenfold, but he gathered the willpower to overcome the sudden surge of emotions he was feeling.

"I want... I need you to promise me you'll never harm yourself again," He looked down at you, cradled in his arms, "I don't think I could ever bear the pain of losing you..."

He knew this was only one step of many. That it doesn't start like this. That it grows. Although he couldn't pinpoint what might've started it, he at least needed to confirm you'd be safe. He just needed this one thing to give his already worn heart a little bit of ease.

You couldn't help but recoil a bit, bringing your arms to hug your torso. As much as you wanted it to be that easy, as much as you wanted to tell your father 'okay!', you knew it wouldn't be done so fast. And in a way, that only worsened your resentment towards yourself.

"I... don't know if I can.." You avoided his gaze as you faced the ground, hating how saddened he was and much rather preferring him to be angry. It'd lessen the guilt a little bit, at least.

He needed something.

"[Name]... I can't make you promise me you'll be able to stop right away. That's foolish to believe." Heaving out a sigh, he put a hand atop your head. "But I just need you to know that I'd be devastated without you. I can truly say from the bottom of my heart, I'd never be able to live a normal life again if you were gone."

Looking up into his eyes, you saw a heaviness that swirled in them. This was coming from a man who had seen it all - numerous deaths in ways he wished he could unsee.

You hadn't realized just how much you meant to him. It never popped up in your head. The all-consuming void had blocked any sensibility or logic from getting to you, and the more you thought about it, the more you realized just how much it would affect your father. He always told you your pain was his to deal with too.

Settling your face in the crook of his neck so you wouldn't have to see the hurt in his eyes anymore, you tried your best to explain everything to him.

"It feels..." Closing your eyes, you tried imagining everything that has built up. "Like I'm running a race, yet getting nowhere. That everything I do has no effect... I'm tired."

You stayed silent as you felt your father put a hand on the back of your head. Aizawa watched as you carefully pieced your words together, and saw the true effect of everything you had been dealing with. His heart ached to relieve you of your pain, his fatherly instincts screaming at him to help save his child.

"[Name]." His grip on you tightened ever so slightly. "I want you to get this through your head, alright? You are not a failure. You're going through a lot, and it's weighing down on you. And I understand you're under a lot of pressure, but-"

Aizawa was cut off when he began to choke up, the thoughts too much for him to bear. As much as he tried to keep his composure for your sake, his walls were beginning to crack.

You heard your father pause and looked up at him, only to be brought into shock at the sight of your normally stoic father tearing up. You felt ashamed for forgetting about his pain, tearing up once more at the guilt that ravaged your mind.

He could see how surprised you were, but he couldn't help it. He always struggled to contain himself when it came to you, especially whenever you were hurt. He hated seeing you in pain.

"Do you have any idea what it would do to me if I lost you? I- ... [Name], if anything happened to you, I don't know what I'd do anymore, I'd-"

He truly couldn't help it. All that Aizawa wanted was for you to be happy. Seeing you in so much agony... seeing your only escape being to harm yourself... He felt that he lost a part of himself.

You cried out loud this time, seeing your father so torn over you. It was heartbreaking, but oddly soothing at the same time. To have someone to deeply care about you that they felt intertwined with you. He cared.

You could feel his arms engulfing you, and you allowed yourself to be swallowed in his hold. It was warm and soothing... A stark contrast to the cold you constantly couldn't escape from.

As he held you, Aizawa couldn't help but be more shocked at himself than anyone. He normally was able to easily retain his composure, so as he felt tears flowing down his face he couldn't help but stiffen. Quickly getting over it, he held you close. The room gradually began to get quieter, the both of your emotions slowing down.

You couldn't help but feel... Secure. It was a stark contrast to the constant void you felt. You felt... Warm.

Yeah, warm.

It was a nice feeling.

Closing your eyes, you finally allowed your body to relax. Aizawa rubbed your back as he gently rocked back and forth.

"I just want you to breath. Don't think about anything else."

Following his word, you kept your eyes closed and settled your breathing. You quickly noticed how much easier it was to think this way. Nothing else was getting in the way, no unwanted thoughts or fears, and you felt safe. Safe and comfortable.

The world around you normally was so chaotic. It seemed everyone was in a rush, always somewhere to be. You couldn't have time to yourself either, constantly getting pushed to and fro. There never seemed to be a place to stop. Nowhere to rest. An unchanging race.

But here you were. The world has stopped, giving you a break you so badly needed. You couldn't describe it, but such a simple hug from your father seemed to dull everything that pained you.

"I understand what it's like."

Aizawa would be lying if he said he was never in your place before. Too many nights he was kept up, worrying about working on himself. Scared of the changing future. Feeling like nothing was changing for him while the world moved on. It was isolating.

Over the years, he got better. The world's rush blurred to background noise, and he learned to appreciate his own speed in life. It was his own life he was living, after all.

Looking down at you, he saw a mirror image of himself.

"Y'know, it's not fair..." You looked up at him as he brushed away a lone tear from your cheek with the pad of his thumb. "You allow me to laugh with you in your happiest moments... So why do you lock me out when you're at your lowest?"

You had never heard it phrased like that before. You did enjoy having him around whenever you had something good to share. Whenever you were proud, or amazed, or just plain happy. But you understood, he wanted to be a part of it all. Every smile... And every tear.

Your voice couldn't find you, but Aizawa didn't mind. To you, he was always a hand outstretched. A guide to help you through the fog and the dark. It made the terrifying a little less daunting.

"Please talk to me when you can. Tell me whatever you'd like, I just want to know how you're feeling."

You nodded, looking at him directly. Your heart rate had gone down significantly, and you didn't know how much time had passed. If you listened carefully, you could hear the distance rumble of an oncoming storm, thunder booming on the horizon.

There was a pregnant pause before he started once more.

"Tomorrow, we'll need to get your injuries looked over-"

Seeing a look of fear cross your expression, he was quick to calm you.

"I'll be with you. The entire time. You won't have to deal with living life alone. I understand it's frightening to look at, but let me hold some of the weight you own."

You watched as Aizawa stretched out his hand, offering it to you. Looking at it, you thought back to all the times he'd helped you in the past. Every time he's offered his hand out to you.

All the times you were too scared to cross the road when you were little. Every time you felt too suffocated by the number of people surrounding you. Or even when it was just the two of you, silently walking home together in the warm afternoon sun.

He always offered you support, for every little thing life had to throw at you. Aizawa's expression softened when you gently put your hand in his, no hesitation in your movements.

Clasping his fingers over yours, you saw how your hands intertwined. And you realized, he was always there to take some of the pain from you - acting like he was a part of you.

"You get it now, huh?" Looking up into his eyes one more time, you thought you saw a sparkle in them. "Whenever you bring pain to yourself," He squeezed your hand a little tighter, "you're hurting me right alongside with you. I need you in one piece, kid."

You breathed out, everything a little clearer now. There was so much more to do. So much to go through. It was a formidable thought.

But as you looked up into your father's eyes and as you felt his hand in yours, you realized;

You weren't alone.

You really did owe him the world.

During my lowest moments, Aizawa was always a huge character I relied on to get me through it. I will always write comfort for him to anyone who asks.

I hope you have a lovely day, and I hope things get just a little easier for you, you definitely deserve it (*´艸`)ﾌﾌﾌｯ♡

➜ Please let me know if I missed any warnings/triggers in the tags or in the opening!