#not to mention that fucking uhhhh it was BLACKMAIL???

[lord-squiggletits]

The funny thing about Pharma and the Delphi situation is that that's where the concept of the DJD was first introduced (with the first scene with the DJD at work happening literally the issue afterwards, issue #6) and literally the more you learn about the DJD the more it vindicates Pharma in his paranoia and being convinced that he couldn't ask for help like

In the Delphi issues we learn that the DJD hunts down Decepticon turncoats/traitors/etc and that Ambulon, one of the Delphi staff, was a Decepticon traitor. We also learn that their leader is evidently terrifying in addition to being a t-cog addict, but that's it.

Except in the subsequent issue #6 and all issues with the DJD afterwards, we learn a variety of fun facts about the DJD such as

Several of the members either literally transform into torture equipment or have said torture equipment built into their bodies

Their leader, Tarn, the guy with the t-cog addiction that forced Pharma into blackmail, can kill people with just his VOICE

We later learn that the DJD have a fanatical devotion to the Decepticon cause/Megatron such that they literally worship an idol of Megatron

Even later on, we learn that Tarn's kill-you-with-his-voice powers work both over the phone and via recordings of his voice

Tarn is also very talkative during torture sessions and he seems to find pleasure in his stupid, smug-smart guy persona where he likes to describe to victims what's happening to them and why. And there's no reason he wouldn't apply this to Autobots just as much as he does to Decepticon traitors

The DJD have access to signal jamming technologies that make it so that even if their victim can get a help signal out, no one will receive it until weeks after the fact

Their entire system of hunting people down is based on pursuing them no matter what, isolating them from any help, driving them mad with psychological terror, etc

They're capable enough warriors to slaughter an entire ships' worth of people, apparently without sustaining any meaningful casualties

They're drug addicts that are prone to overdosing and/or losing control and slaughtering people while they're under the influence

So like???

If Pharma was only privy to HALF of the things that we as the audience know about the DJD, it's perfectly reasonable to assume that Pharma probably wanted to call for help at some point, but was convinced that doing so would lead to 1. the signal being jammed/blocked so no one would help anyways 2. him and everyone else at Delphi (including the TRAITOR WHO IS ONE OF THEIR EMPLOYEES) would be horribly tortured to death by fanatical Decepticon torturer freaks.

Like I get that in the text Pharma only says that he did the Red Rust stuff so that he wouldn't be caught/blamed for the t-cog deal and is prideful about how he stopped the DJD from murdering Delphi, but like...... there's no fucking way that Pharma going "oh I didn't want to get in trouble and also I'm better than everyone" was his PRIMARY reason for everything on Delphi. Pharma didn't go from perfectly normal/sane Autobot doctor to raving egotistical maniac because he was always an asshole and he decided to solve the DJD issue in an asshole way. It's bc according to all canon evidence we have of the DJD and the way they react to traitors/Autobots, Pharma had every reason to fear for his life and believe that no aid would come to him.

[hoshigray]

𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇[𝐞𝐫]!! | t. fushiguro + s. ryōmen

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Next time, look around the area before you say you find a serial killer attractive. Because you’re about to see what mess your words will have you end up in — and your clothes all torn up.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: serial killers! Toji + Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! - age gap (the reader is in their early 20s) - porn with plot - oral (f! + m! receiving) - threesome - double penetration; anal (first time) & vaginal - restricted movement (hands tied up) - face-sitting - cowgirl dp positions - gun + knife play - choking - spanking - unprotected sex - overstimulation - degradation (brat, broad, slut, whore) - pet names (baby, dollface, good girl, pet, princess) - blackmail/threats - the reader is in an established relationship w/ Nanami - mentions of blood, tears, spit, and drool.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.6k (told you, porn with plot, lol)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: uhhhh happy Friday the 13th, everybody???? blame @ramonathinks for this idea (jk, don't, she's so amazing, ty for pushing me into this, mona bear ♡ and tysm for beta reading; your thoughts mean the world). Haven't done a fic in two months sooooo go easy on me!! Not proofread, so I'll fix stuff l8rrrr

“No.”

“Oh, come on, Y/n! Just answer the question!”

“You’re so fucking sick, you know that!?” You glare at your friend, who slumps on the booth chair with a heavy sigh. 

A slight breeze tickles your skin through your comfortable sweatshirts as the leaves on the trees slowly change to autumnal colors, and Halloween decor is already adorning every house and every yard. It was a warm and sunny afternoon on this pleasant Friday. Usually, you’d be cozied up in your apartment enjoying yourself, probably catching up on some horror flicks you missed last year. 

But alas, that was not the case. Because you’re a college student. As October has finally rolled around, only one thing prevents you from enjoying this beautiful season — midterms. The thought of it is enough to pull you into a pool of dread. Every day has been one whirlwind after another. Yet, on the bright side, all you have now is one last exam to worry about, and you’ll finally be able to rest this weekend. So here you are, at the diner with your best friend, Shoko Ieiri, completing your papers while eating off your plates to satiate the stress. For the most part, things were going smoothly.

Until the news anchor on the television at the bar relays an announcement… 

“…Once again, everyone, please be on the lookout for these two killers on the loose. Three weeks ago, the two recently escaped from their cells, killed three guards, and are still at large. There have been accounts around the state that reported recent sightings of either or both criminals, the recent one being in this county 27 hours ago. So, please, stay safe. The killers are identified to be…”

And Shoko, being the curious person she is, asks you a question that stops your fingers from typing on your laptop: “Do you find those killers hot?” 

That’s how you two end up where you are now, groaning at the brunette’s persistence in getting your approval to find two criminals — murderers, even! — attractive. 

“Hey, Y/n, I know you hear me.” Shoko snaps their fingers at you while you try to get the assignment done. “Just answer the question: don’t you think those guys are hot.”

“We didn’t come all this way for you to talk about your hybristophilia fantasies.” Facing the Word document, you remind your friend why you’re here in the first place. “Just get back to writing; I wanna finish this and get home.” There’s nothing said afterward for a few seconds, thinking she has finally given up.

However, “First of all,” your eyes close to conceal them rolling behind the lids. “I’m not into hybristophilia; I just know a hot guy when I see one. Second, look at their mugshots. Like, damn, you’ve ever seen anyone so intimidatingly good-looking before? Come on, have a look!”

“You’re such a weirdo,” the click-clacking of your fingertips tapping your keyboard fills the rest of your answer. 

Still, she persists. “Y/n, look at the phoooone~”

No words, only tapping keys.

“Y/n?”

The keys become louder. 

“Pretty, pretty, pleaseeeee~?” 

Louder.

“Y/n!!”

A fist bangs on the booth table as the other closes the laptop shut, sending another glare to the person across from you who holds the phone up. You’ve had it at this point, so you say with a steady breath, “If I look at the dumb mugshots and answer your dumb question, will your dumbass leave me alone and finish your work?” The brunette only puts the phone on the table and slides it your way, giving you big doe eyes and whimpers like a hurt puppy. You sigh with your nostrils as you snatch the phone up, your gaze stationed on the images presented.

The image displayed two mugshots: on the left was a man with raven hair and a scar on the left of his lip. Intense, forest-green orbs contrast the black strands that cover his forehead. The mugshot letter board below him is labeled as "Toji Fushiguro." The one on the right is another man with spiky salmon-colored hair pushed upfront with prominent black tattoos decorating his nose, cheeks, and forehead. The board named him as “Sukuna Ryōmen.”

You look at the pictures intently, examining the men’s features at your discretion. It didn’t occur to you how long you were gawking at the mugshots until you peered from the phone to see Shoko give you the biggest shit-eating grin. Shaking your head, you chew the inside of your cheek before responding.

“….Well,” you cough. “…they’re not terrible looking at all. They are…..hot.”

“Told you!” Shoko slams the table with high enthusiasm, earning another sigh from you as she snatches the phone back. “Would you fuck them?”

You almost popped a vein. What the fuck—“is wrong with you!?” 

“It’s just a question, geez.” She holds her hands up defensively. “Or is that too lewd and raunchy to ask the partner of the trusting, charismatic “Golden Boy” SGA president, Kento Nanami?”

You choke on your spit before you can say anything, and your cheeks dial in warmth. “S-Shut up! Don’t bring my love life into whatever deviant horny thoughts you’re thinking!”

“I’m sorry, I’m boreeeeeeed. I don’t wanna do this paper, ugh.” The brunette whines and bangs their forehead on the table surface; your eyes roll for the fifteenth time in the past three hours. “…Maybe I should get some dick after this.”

“For fuck’s sake, I’m going to use the restroom.” 

You exit the dining booth when they give you a muffled response of anguish, straightening yourself and heading for the back of the diner. As you walked away, you noticed a pair of hooded figures sitting at the booth behind you. Realization kicks in, and you groan internally. Oh, God, they probably heard what we were talking about! But what caught your mind next was that one of them had a black mark on the bridge of their nose. Huh, what an odd tattoo…

After using the toilet, you wash your hands at the sink, but your mind is still fixated on that weird tattoo. Who would get such a thing on their face? Wouldn’t that hurt? I wonder if that’s the only tatt— And then It clicked, you quickly turn off the faucet and dry your hands, exit the rest restroom, and run to your booth. Shoko was begrudgingly typing away on their laptop until she saw you return in a hurry. 

“Hey, you okay?” She asks you, but you aren’t looking at them. Your face contoured to a confused expression as you stared at the booth behind the one you were sitting in, now empty. 

“Did…..The two people who sat behind us, did you see them?” 

“Hmm? No, I didn’t. Must’ve left while my head was on the table.”

“Uh huh…” you say nothing more as you slowly sit back in front of your laptop. Your mind is now clouded with confusing thoughts, questioning your experience up until now. It could be a coincidence, quite far out at that. Regardless, you could’ve sworn you saw that tattoo on the Sukuna guy that Shoko showed you. It was such an uncommon decor, especially since you just saw it on the face of a criminal. Not to mention, the news anchor earlier stated that those two killers were in this exact county…

Needless to say, you didn’t touch your keyboard for about twenty minutes. Your mind was too wrapped up elsewhere to think clearly about your school assignment, and your body harbored a disturbing chill worse than the soft autumn winds.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“…So, why are you researching about the loose killers again?”

“Hm? Oh,” you stop typing on the laptop to attend to the phone call you’re on. Exiting your bedroom, you walk to the living room. “No reason, I was just curious. I saw something about them on the news at the diner with Shoko.”

The person on the other side of the line hums. “You should be careful about stuff like that.”

“Yeah, I know, Kenty,” you open the sliding door to your balcony and close it behind you before taking a seat on the cream-colored swing chair.

“I’m very serious, Y/n.” It was none other than Kento Nanami who was speaking with you. The trustworthy “Golden Boy” of your class year, the circumspect president of the Student Government Association… your loving and attentive boyfriend.

"I know you are."

"And those guys aren't just any usual criminals. They're notorious killers who barge into people's homes at night to steal valuable things. Maybe even kill their victims in their sleep if they have the time. So, be very careful, okay? Can’t trust these streets at night, especially now with those guys on the run. So, don’t go anywhere alone, always have your pepper spray on you, and be sure everything is locked — doors, windows, everything.”

A deep sigh leaves your lips. “Yeah, I double-checked all the locks once I got inside.” 

No one says a word; the rustling of the trees and the beeping of cars from the traffic at the light substitute this awkward silence. Until Nanami says, “….You scared?”

You don’t answer immediately, your mind flashing back to the bewildering encounter at the diner earlier today. Those two hooded men, one with a black tattoo on his face. It felt too surreal to feel like a coincidence, yet it wasn’t too far out of your mind to think as such. The timing was strange, with the news reporter and your conversation with Shoko. The thought of two murderers nonchalantly being in the same space as you rub you off in the worst way imaginable. “…Kinda, yeah. A bit spooked.”

“You want me to come up there and spend the night?”

“No, no! You don’t have to do that,” you hurriedly decline his proposal. “I know you’re busy with homework and student government stuff. I wouldn’t want you moving around so much; I’d feel bad.”

You hear him chuckle on the other side of the phone, and your heart swoons at the sound. “Don’t feel bad; you could never be a burden to me, especially when your safety is my top priority.” Another skip of the beat; it’ll never fail to amaze you how sweet he is with his words.

“Thank you, Kenty. But still, I know you’ve got a lot on your hands. You don’t have to see me right this moment. Besides, isn’t Haibara supposedly dragging you to some party at Geto’s?” Nanami is silent for a few seconds before he groans; a smile creeps up on your face at his reaction.

“Unfortunately, yes. I have to leave to pick him up, and then we can go…But I can cancel and come o—“

“Absolutely not.” You’re quick to interject. “You’ve been so high and on edge with your exams. This is the first party after midterm week. And I can bet my left toe that Gojo — cause you know he’ll be there if Geto is — will be upset you couldn’t make it.”

“…….Which one?”

“Excuse me?”

“You have five toes on your left foot, so which one—“

“Kento.” He chuckles once more for your ears to hear at the use of his real name. “Have fun, okay?”

Nanami hums. “I’ll try. I’ll come by your place Sunday. Sounds good?”

“Perfect. Take some pics for me. Love you!”

Your boyfriend bids you farewell before ending the call, already missing his voice. A yawn creeps out from you, a sign that you are indeed fatigued and need rest. Leaving the balcony, you close the door and do a final check at your door. Confirmed that it’s locked and secured, you turn off the living room lights and head back to your bedroom to get some shut-eye. 

You shut off and close your laptop on your desk before turning off the lights. Then, you lift the comforter and finally enter the chilly embrace of your bedsheets.  Usually, you’d scroll on your phone for a little bit until you get drowsy enough to fall asleep. Yet — it could be because of the exam you were doing at the diner — you felt way more exhausted than usual and wanted to sleep right away. And you did just that: closed your eyes, listened to the calming rhythm of your breaths, and soon drifted into an anticipated slumber.

….Three Hours Later….

The next time you open your eyes, you’re not in the room you left yourself in — let alone the bed. 

Instead, you find yourself somewhere cold and dark. Your bed is nowhere in sight, just a lone chair facing you. There are no windows, no desks, just you and this chair with a sole overhead light that almost blinds you when you slowly get up. 

The change of scenery throws you off as one thought after another picks up the pace of confusion. Where am I? What is this place? This has to be a sick dream of mine…Wait a minute. You look down to find your pajamas are shriveled and torn up, pieces of the material scattered all over where you’re lying on the cold floor. Also, what the fuck!? You can’t seem to move your hands and feet, noticing that there’s some rope restricting your limbs from moving freely from one another. No matter how hard you try, squirming does little to no help, yet it confirms that this is not a dream.

What the absolute fuck is going on right now!? It was an appropriate question for this perplexing situation, not knowing where to pick up from to start picking clues as to why you’re here. Better yet, who brought you here?

“Ah, look who’s awake.”

You turn to the sound of a door opening and closing; the direction it came from makes it hard to register the distance of whoever was speaking to you. However, that doesn’t matter because you can hear footsteps approaching you and a figure stepping into the light. And when the face finally comes to your field of vision, your blood shifts into an immediate icy cold.

Standing to you by the chair was a man in a tight black shirt that exhibited his muscular arms and physique way too perfectly, harboring dark and baggy pants. But those weren’t the features that had your breath hitch. No, no. The man before you had raven hair with the length stopped to his ears and strands that covered his brows. They did not even try concealing the striking green eyes that looked straight at you. And the familiar scar at the right of his lip put everything together for you — the mugshot that Shoko showed me, the inmate that escaped prison…!

Toji Fushiguro, in the flesh, takes a seat on the chair with his legs spread while putting on black gloves. He notices your look of realization and smirks; you don’t like how his scar is rooted up with the motion. “Y’re a pretty heavy sleeper, ya know that. But I guess that made bringing you here a lil’ simple.” 

A tiny bit of confidence prompts you to speak with the man. “Whe–Where am I?”

“C’mon now, little girl,” your stomach churns when he scoffs at you. He brings up a hand to help him as he cracks his neck. God, why is he so jacked!!? “Y’re supposed to be smart, right? You know that’s the wrong question to ask me.” 

Okay then, think, Y/n, think… ”…Why did you kidnap me? Is it for money? Because I don’t have much—“ The palm of Toji’s hand faces you to halt you from speaking more, making your nervousness dwell even further. 

“For one, you should really consider locking your balcony door when y’re done using it.” There are not enough words to describe the mental facepalm you gave yourself. “If we wanted to run y’r pockets, we woulda done so earlier.” He casually admits to you. “But that’s not why we brought ya here, so he’ll explain it to ya.”

He? Wait, wait, we??

The other mugshot hits you like a flash before you hear the door open and close again. Of course, Toji isn’t the only one on the run right now. There was another guy with salmon-colored hair and tattoos. The other figure, now wearing a black tank tee and ripped black jeans, came from behind Toji. Your stomach drops to the floor when your eyes land on the prominent black tattoo on his nose — now seeing that he has way more on his face, shoulders, arms, and wrists. The scene from the diner replays until your brain can’t keep up. It was him, no doubt about it.

“Well, well. Did the sleeping beauty finally get their rest?” Sukuna Ryōmen, looks just as [if not more] dangerous as Toji. He stuffs his hand into the back of his jeans pocket. “Listen here, I’ll be asking you some questions, and I expect nothing but honest answers. Got that?” 

You don’t know what possessed you to ask the question. You being scared shitless right now should’ve prevented you from doing so. And yet, you ask, “And if I don’t?”

It happened way too fast; your eyes couldn’t even process it happening. But one moment, the salmon-haired criminal was standing in front of you beside Toji. The next, you feel someone crouched behind you with the cold feeling of something barely piercing your skin. Your eyes widen, and you don’t dare move a single hair. Toji shakes his head at you, the smirk on his face still present. Now you can guess who had fun cutting up your PJs.

“I don’t think you wanna know the answer to that question.” He says it so close to your ear that you could’ve nearly fainted. Sukuna then moves the knife to scrape the side of your neck. “And don’t you ever think you’re in a position to ask me questions. Use that college brain of yours, brat.” 

You gulp — a risky move when you have a sharp object to your neck — and nod. Satisfied, the pink-haired man removes the knife from your proximity and stands right up. “At least you follow things quickly.” He says while walking back to where he stood prior. “Now, question one: do you know a kid named Kento Nanami?” 

The mention of your boyfriend’s name hits you like whiplash. Kento? What do they want with him!?

“…Yes, I do.”

“Good. Next question,” You chew the inside of your lip before he asks you the following. “Where does he live?”

Your body almost shuts down when he says the final word. No. No, no, no! Absolutely not! “I can’t tell you that.”

“Tch, just when you were doin’ so good.” Sukuna sucks his teeth. “And why the hell not?”

“Because I don’t want you hurting him.”

He barks a laugh. “You don’t even know what we’ll do to him! Damn, talk about a loyal dog.” 

The insult sparked a flame in you. It was a small one, but a flame nonetheless. “Why the hell do you want to know anyway? It’s not like he knows you any—Hrckk!”

“What the hell did I say about you asking questions, huh.” A hurried hand meets your throat, black nails digging into your skin as his grip gets unbearably tight. You attempt to keep a stern face despite choking for some air, but you’d be lying that the pain wasn’t getting to your head.

“Alright, Kuna, let ‘em go.” You almost forgot about Toji sitting on the chair until he spoke up. With a displeased click of the tongue, Sukuna releases you and throws you to the cold, hard floor. “For your information, princess, that kid does know us.”

You’re coughing up a storm, but you still listen. Your eyes are watery, and your throat pulses. “Hic…Ack, what—What are you talking about?”

Toji continues. “That little friend of y’rs is the reason why we were behind bars for three years. Fuckin’ kid saw us break into a house in his neighborhood and called the cops on us. For the longest time, we’ve thought about getting out of those damn cells and coming back to rip that lil’ fucker limb from limb. Maybe ransack his whole home and then some.” 

“And now that we are out here,” Sukuna chimes in. “We plan on doing just that. We were sitting right behind you at the diner and heard the brown-haired chick say his name, meaning he had to be around this county. And when he heard that fucking square had a little girlfriend, who better to introduce ourselves and point us the way than you.” 

So much information hits you all at once that you’re not given enough time to process it properly. Nanami called the cops on these guys? Where was that piece of information on the phone call!!? Three years ago, it must’ve happened before the start of freshman year. And then there’s the matter of these murders trying to kill him — the love of your life! 

You immediately try to weigh your options: you could give them a fake address, but that would lead them back to you and have you killed instead. And Nanami doesn’t live at home right now; he’s on campus with you and everyone else. So, sharing these two his home address will just have his family killed in his place! Oh, you wouldn’t handle that guilt; you just couldn’t!!

“So, what’ll it be, little girl?” Toji’s voice snaps you from your rampant thoughts. “You can be a cute girlfriend and be loyal, and we’ll just kill you right here, right now. Or, you give us an address, we’ll put you back to sleep, and you’ll never see from us ever again.” 

Those two options were far from what you wanted to do. You would never want to jeopardize your poor boyfriend’s life and those around him for being a model citizen, especially for these assholes! There had to be a way, something you could do!

“Please, don’t hurt him!” The ropes on your hands and feet have you shuffle to look at the two men from the dirty ground. “He didn’t do anything wrong. Please just spare him!”

“No-can-do, brat.” Sukuna comes down to your level once more, yanking your shirt — or whatever’s left of it, your bra practically out for the whole world to see — to lift your upper body. “Nothing to ease a vengeful spirit than taking care of the problem, right? So do us a favor, will ya.” 

Tears are fighting your control to fall, your body trembling. You’re scared, so so frightened. But most of all, you’ll do what you can to make sure your “golden boy” stands tall for you. “Please, I’ll do anything! Anything you want, I’ll do it! So, please!!” 

Sukuna opens his mouth to bite back, but no words come out. Actually, his expression resorts back to a neutral tone. He then turns to Toji, who looks at him with a quirked brow. There’s nothing but silence between the two, a silent conversation between the two killers that you have no choice but to stay quiet for. And you jerk when the two focus back on you. Sukuna then finally says something.

“Anything, huh?” It’s the worst when he sneers at you. Such a devious man. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Tch. Fucking brat.” Sukuna sucks his teeth before he snatches your chin with a rough vigor, forcing your teary eyes to face him. And it doesn’t help that you now have a gun pointed at your temple. “This is your warning. You better do this right, or you’ll be the first to get a gift with your boyfriend’s head all minced up. Now, use that mouth. Properly.”

Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think you’d end up here. You stood on your knees and hands on the concrete floor, your mouth occupied with Sukuna’s cock, propelling your face to and fro to meet the base. Why the handgun to your head? According to the salmon-haired man, he said: “Try to fight, run, or bite our dicks off, then this whole mag is getting emptied.” So, you’re literally giving the fellatio of your life. And judging by the grunts coming from Sukuna, it seems you’re doing a decent job keeping him going. 

As for the other one, Toji, his hands grabbing onto your asscheeks from beneath should answer that. “C’mon, baby, sit on my face. I don’t bite…” you can tell he has the biggest grin on his face saying that, has you hesitant to follow orders. Regardless, you gently sway your ass down to sit on his face. But impatience gets the best of him before he pulls you down himself, his nose abruptly hitting your clitoris. You jolt despite his hands keeping you on him, forced to feel his tongue and mouth indulging on your wet folds.

So there you sit, bare and nude, for the men to use you as they see fit. Whatever piece of your clothes were torn off you to be fully exposed for them. This is what you choose to do for the sake of your boyfriend: giving yourself off for the night. 

Oh, if Shoko could see you now. Sucking off one of the exact murderers you two were talking about at the diner while the other eats you out? You know you’ll never hear the end of it from her if — by some miracle — she finds out! And you’ll hold onto that miracle for as long as you can. 

“…Fuuuck, hnngh! It’s been a minute since I had my dick on something tight,” Sukuna comments while putting his free hand on your head. His thrusts increase to have your tongue bathe the underside of his dick, and he sighs at you choking when the tip suddenly hits your uvula. “Heh, that’s right. Keep those tears coming, pet…You seem to be enjoying yourself there, Fushiguro. This broad taste that fucking good—Ohhh shit, fucking shit…”

You can feel Toji’s lips curve into a smile from down under, he gives your labia and clit a slow and antagonizing lick before responding to his partner in crime. “Mmmm, man. It’s been a while since I had to do this. Crazy how this princess got with a square like that kid. Wonder if he makes ‘em feel good like this.” And then he returns to your clit to give it a harsh suck. 

Your body continues to be used like a toy. Your jaw loosens to oblige Sukuna’s girth that’s currently hitting the back of your throat every time your lips meet the pubes of his pelvis. His ruts dial-up, and you ball your fists with the constant oral abuse on your face. Drool runs down your chin with every shove of his length, practically choking you with his dick. And the commotion between your leaking vulva and Toji doesn’t go unnoticed either; motherfuker’s tongue is relentless, making sure every crevice and part of your pussy is familiar with him. And the sounds of him slurping your essence are so lewd, so erotic for your ears that you think they’re bound to explode on you. 

“—Ahhh, damn, I’m gonna cum,” Oh, God. Your eyes open to look at Sukuna’s expression, nothing but pure enjoyment looking at your pitiful look. “You’re cute looking all pathetic taking my cock like this, whore—Mmmph!! Shiiiit, keep your head like that.” He grabs your head as his thrusts speed up to an irregular pace, your throat and face becoming numb. Your whimpers are muffled, and tears streak down your cheeks. His groans of pleasure fill the room, and before you know it, his load is released down to the depths of your throat. You’re stuck taking it, mewling on the shaft still in your mouth until he’s finished. 

He removes you when he is, his cock slathered in your saliva and still rock hard. You gawk at it, amazed that you could fit it in your mouth. And you hate to admit this, but it has you wondering what Toji’s is like. 

Speaking of, with a foggy mind, you peer down to see Toji finally done eating your cunt out. “Ya taste good, you know that.” He licks his lips provocately with a smile. You open your mouth to say something, but he cuts you off. “You ready fr’ me now?” He cocks his chin up, and you turn to see what he’s talking about, only to be met with the pinkish-red tip of his sprung erect cock. If you didn’t think you’d be able to have Sukuna’s in your mouth, you’re going to need a diety’s grace to see what you can do with Toji’s. “Heh, think I’m too big fr’ you? How the hell is Kento handling a piece like you?”

“S–Shut up, stop bringing him up!” You shout at him, tired of being reminded of the love of your life whom you’re betraying right now. All for his sake, but still…

He chuckles at your reaction. “Little girl got spark, huh. Fine then, be a doll and put it in yourself.” 

Cold sweat slides from your brow. Me? I’ve gotta put that shit in on my own!? But you have to. You know you do. So, with anxiousness pooling in your stomach, you bring your ass up and use your hand to align his cock to your wet cunt. 

It takes a lot of mental motivation for you to continue, but slowly and surely, you push the folds of your cunt onto his glans. The pain you experience makes it excruciating to bear, but with steady breaths, you push the tip in with every exhale. And when it finally enters your vulva, a gasp erupts from your puffy lips and a hiss from the man with the scarred lip. “Mmmm, slow down, baby, slow it down…” That was probably the only words he’s ever said that you could trust, so you anchor your ass down, taking in every inch of his length with his hands guiding your ass down. When you reach the base, you give yourself a few seconds to adjust to his girth within your velvety walls. “Fuck, ya feel so nice and tight, princess.”

“Is that so?” Sukuna walks from behind. “Can’t wait for me to have a go.” You couldn’t even comprehend the meaning of that sentence because the salmon-haired one kicked your back. You are now mounted on Toji completely, the two of you facing each other while Sukuna crouches behind your ass. “Get ready, I’m putting it in.”

“Huh?” Wait, both at the same time!? “Ho–Hold on, I’ve never done it in my ass bef—“

“Doesn’t sound like a problem to me; guess I’ll be the first then,” he shuts down your argument and then bends down to use his fingers and spit to ease your asshole. It feels so gross and repulsive that you could puke right now. Not that it would matter to Sukuna because he’s already set on doing it — his fore and middle finger pushing in and out of your anus. When he feels you’ve loosened up, he’ll remove his digits and substitute them with his cock. 

And he doesn’t warn you either, fucking bastard; he nudges his dick in his own countdown with no regard to how you’re feeling. Gripping onto the raven-haired man’s black shirt, Sukuna’s cock puts you through pain worth traumatizing, evoking screams that scratch your throat until he gets the whole thing in your ass. Nanami would never put you through this much pain. Never!

“Aww, y’re making the pretty girl cry,” Toji teases condescendingly, chuckling at the sight of you burying your head in his chest to shield the embarrassment. 

Sukuna hums while grinding his hips to your ass, a tiny bit of blood painting his shaft. “Hmph, good, makes my enjoyment worthwhile. Now,” you shriek with the sudden snap of his hips to your ass. “Let’s get this show started.”

When Sukuna moves, Toji follows right after, and you’re left to fend for yourself in this unsteady tempo from both your holes. You start seeing stars from the unusual stimulation, and your mind and vision become so blurry that it hurts to think. Hell, it hurts to try and concentrate on one dick at a time! One is currently scraping the wells of your walls in a way that your slit clenches around him, while the other churns your insides from the back that almost takes your breath away. More drool and tears seep into the black shirt you use to disguise yourself from them. This shit is already humiliating as is!

“C’mon now, baby. Show me that pretty face of y’rs.” Of course, Toji uses one hand to nudge your head to look at him. Your face is such a wet and hot mess, the sweat on your body making you sticky. The attempt to make sentences is beyond you, relying on moans and choked sobs to express your disorganized emotions. “There ya are. Good fuckin’ girl.”

Toji then takes your plump lips with his, his hand snaking to the back of your head to deepen the kiss. It was one thing letting them use your cunt and ass as they see fit; now, they dare to kiss you in a time like this. Oh, this is the absolute worst! How can you speak to Nanami ever again after this!? These lips are now sullied by the lips and cock of other men. You can’t ever go back and say that you were his, and it’s because of these assholes!!

…And what’s worse, you were starting to find enjoyment in what you were doing, sinking into Toji’s kiss and moaning into his scarred lips.

“Haahh…Mmmph…Damn, this slut is so fucking tight.” Sukuna watches your back glisten in the light while your ass quaked under his unstable momentum. He sneers before slapping your asscheek, resulting in a rushed moan and a twitch from your pussy. Toji breaks the kiss. “Hey, keep doing that. Think they like it.” 

With devilish glee, the tattooed other doesn’t hold back. He gives you another smack to the ass, and more loud purrs and shrieks fill the space between you three. Fast ruts to your soaping slit and ass coincide with the strikes to your butt, catching you off guard and leaving a stinging sensation every time. 

It’s apparent now that your hips start to move on their own, riding out your own high while preparing for your orgasm that’s climbing up. And the raven-haired man notices as he puts your hand on your aching buttcheeks. “Goin somewhere, dollface?” 

Oh, for fuck’s sake, let me come already!! “—Ahhnn, ooohhhh!! I’m about to cummm—I’m gonna break—Eeyahhh!!!

“That so?” You want to wipe that smirk off his stupid, dumb, handsome face. “Then go ahead and get dirty, princess. Ring us up.”

Your arousal staggers up when both of their thrusts fall into a unity, the tender spots of your gummy walls from your ass and cunt being hit and abused prompt more ecstatic moans and your head pounding with every jab. Almost there, almost! Please, please, I want it!! And you are finally given what you want; your release crashes into you in a hard swoop, the shocks crawling up your body while your holes contract around both men’s cocks. Your brain falls into an erotic trance; you only care about the euphoric sensations tingling around your body. Dizziness overtakes you, and your head descends back on Toji’s chest.

“Hmph, you really a pathetic pet.” Sukuna grinds his pelvis into your sensitive ass. The aftershocks from your release still make your body react to their movements. “Chasing for your own orgasm, huh. We outta fuck that selfishness right out of you, damn brat…”

You don’t say anything — more like you don’t have the energy to. Your ass and chasm are too stuffed to keep your mind active, and your eyelids feel too heavy to keep up. It probably was from all that crying and screaming. All you want to do is go back to sleep in your bed at your cozy apartment. But that must be asking for too much. Just please end this nightmare…

Kenty…Please forgive me, I’m so sorry….

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You can’t remember how sleep found you that night. But your eyes open to the ray of sunshine that peaks through the binds of your bedroom. Wait, my bedroom!?

You shoot up from your bed, the soft comforter and sheets peeling off your skin, and the cool air from the air conditioning welcomes you back to your personal space. Everything untouched, everything where it’s supposed to be — where you’re supposed to be.

A deep breath is the first thing you do when you wake up, following a long exhale. Was I dreaming? You would’ve accepted that delusion had you not looked down to realize that your figure was covered with one of your oversized shirts, remembering that your old pajamas were cut and torn up. Flashes of last night return to haunt you, and shivers travel down your spine from realizing what transpired at those ungodly hours. You quickly check your sheets for any stains — Thank God, none. Funny how a pair of serial killing assholes have the decency to clean up your body. 

And then a sudden feeling of dread crawls up after hearing your phone vibrating on your nightstand. You hurry to check the screen to find out it was a text message from Nanami. It’s a Saturday, 9 a.m. He’d usually be sleeping in until noon. Curious, you unlock your phone to check what your boyfriend is texting you about.

Recent Message from: ♡ my bby nanamiii ♡

Hey, Y/n. Hope you slept well and everything’s okay. I’m coming from Geto’s place after picking up Haibara, who is going through the worst hangover right now. He said he wants to see you and that you make the best meals for his hangovers. I don’t want to intrude if you’re not up for guests, so please tell me so I can take him somewhere else. But otherwise, we’ll be there at around 30-45 mins. Let’s just relax this weekend, okay?

Reading the text as you fall in love with him all over again. After what you’ve gone through, knowing that he’s safe and sound from any trouble, all you want right now is to be around him and hold him close. To be with him and forget about everything that’s happened. 

You send a heartwarming reply saying you’ll be waiting for the two of them. Then, you remove yourself from the bed and stretch out your fatigued muscles. Ugh, I should probably shower before Nananmi gets here…

However, before you lift your shirt and head for the bathroom, you notice a glass of water and a bag full of pills. Huh…I definitely didn’t have that there when I went to sleep before I was taken. And next to the glass was a folded piece of paper. Curiosity got the best of you this morning as you picked up the material to read its contents. 

And this is where you knew your life was changing, for better or worse. Your legs give out, making you fall to your knees with a shaky breath, the hairs of your body standing, and your heart on the verge of leaping out of your mouth. What you read crushed your whole being, leaving you cold in this world — worse than the autumn breeze.

Yo, thanks for the great time last night. Keep that up, and your pretty boytoy will keep standing. Here’s water and birth control, and keep that bag safe. Wouldn’t wanna end up losing it for the next time we fuck you dumb. See ya later, pet.

SR + TF

♱ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2023 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly <3 header art by rororgi mogera + dividers by the amazing @/cafekitsune!!

[gojorgeous]

"sure thing"

pairing: target!gojo x assassin!fem!reader summary: you've been hired to kill the satoru gojo. how will you pull it off... and what will you do when he figures it out? content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, darkish content (all is well in the end), no established relationship, assassins/organized crime, blackmail, mention of a “suicide mission”, attempted murder (uhhhh), hidden identity, intended use of sex as a means to an end, mating press, unprotected sex, p->v, creampie, oral (fem!receiving), praise, pet names (gorgeous/sweetheart/baby), slight aftercare. a/n: me 🤝 describing gojo as having dimples welcome to my second 1k followers event fic! At this rate tho i’m going to hit 2k before i finish the 1k event LMAO. not that i'm complaining hehe. thank you for being patient and for all the support on my recent works! i really appreciate every ask, comment, follow, reblog, everything. they mean the world to me. check out the rest of my 1k event here. enjoy and remember that ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! creds: twitter template by @cafekitsune wc: 7.8k

“Who?!” 

No fucking way. There’s no way he just said what you think he said. 

“You heard me,” he scowls. He glares at you from across the desk. His seat is one of those cushy little office chairs, of course. Yours is plastic– cold and hard.

“Are you fucking insane?” you hiss. There’s no other explanation for what he’s asking you to do. He’s lost his fucking mind. 

“We have a client willing to pay big money for this. Big money for just an attempt,” he answers. 

You laugh, but there’s absolutely nothing funny about this conversation. “Oh, I’m sure you do. Probably because he’s practically invincible. I’ll never even lay a hand on him.” 

Your “boss”, for lack of a better term, only scowls harder, the wrinkles forming near his eyes etching deeper in his skin. “Well, you’d best find a way to make it work. You’re taking this job. That’s final.” You scoff. Maybe you should recommend he see someone… “No. There’s no way. I’m not doing this.” You stand, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “Get someone else to go on your suicide mission.” You take a couple strides toward the door before two very large men move to block your path. 

“Not so fast,” your boss calls. You pause, eyeing up your competition. You could definitely take them if you needed to. You sense only a very faint amount of cursed energy coming from each of them– not even enough to make you blink– but something in your boss’s tone makes you turn back. 

“Yes?” You cross your arms over your chest, fingering a blade hidden in your breast pocket. 

He fiddles around in his pocket, pulling out a cigarette and lighting up right there in his office. You don’t try to hide the way your nose scrunches up. “You want to do this job.” 

Your eyes narrow. Something tells you you’re not going to like what comes next. “And why’s that?” 

He takes a long puff, letting the smoke flowing out of his lungs with a slow exhale. “Because otherwise that little brother of yours is gonna be…” he pauses to give you a smile that makes your stomach churn. “Hmm… a lot smaller, shall we say? Maybe in several limb sized pieces?”

You think your heart stops. Time halts as ice runs through your veins. Nobody knows about your brother. At least, they didn’t. 

Your boss’s smile grows even wider. In all your time as an assassin, you’ve never wanted to kill someone more. But you know you can’t. Just an attempt on his life will end your brother’s. 

“Don’t worry. He’s all tucked away and safe at home where you left him.” Just a tiny piece of your heart thaws with relief. “But try to run with him, or run yourself, and he won’t be safe much longer.” Your pulse pounds so viciously you’re sure everyone can hear. A bead of sweat rolls down your neck. “Now, will you accept the assignment?” 

Your jaw clenches. He got you. In all these years of working for him you’ve been careful, meticulous about hiding every piece of your personal life to avoid situations just like this. But he still got you. He got you. 

“Yes,” you breathe. You have no choice. You will either kill Satoru Gojo or you will die trying. 

“Good,” is all he says, and then you’re being escorted out of the office wondering where the hell you went wrong. 

~

It’s been three weeks since that fateful meeting with your boss. True to his word, your brother has remained unharmed, but you see his lackeys lurking around every corner. Neither you nor your brother are truly safe and you never will be again unless you can pull this off and then put together some plan to escape your boss’s clutches. 

You’ll fail. You know you will. The thought eats you up inside with every waking moment. 

You’ve done your best to learn every possible piece of information about Satoru Gojo in the past two weeks. You know you can’t tail him closely– he’d pick up on your cursed energy and notice your incessant presence, so you’ve had to study from a distance with only minimal moments of proximity. You know where he works, who he works with, what restaurants, bars, and clubs he frequents and what days of the week he tends to visit. You know what his order is at his favorite ramen restaurant, where he lives, what time he wakes up. Hell, you know what fucking brand of dish soap he uses. He lives a surprisingly… predictable lifestyle. He makes no attempt to switch up his schedule or cover his tracks. In any other situation he’d be every assassin’s dream, but this is Satoru Gojo and Satoru Gojo doesn’t need to worry about assassins– assassins need to worry about him.

It took you the first week to come up with a plan. You had no clue how you were going to get close to him, much less kill him, and his infinity technique was going to prove particularly problematic. How were you supposed to kill him when you couldn’t even touch him? You had to get him in a situation in which he would willingly let his guard down for you. 

You’d been on the subway when it hit you. Sex. You’d get him to have sex with you. If you could get him to take you home, he’d have to turn infinity off for at least a short time. That would be your time to strike. 

You’d spent the next two weeks primping yourself. You’d bought the most expensive dress you’d ever owned, got a mani-pedi, whitened your teeth, and spent a small fortune on makeup. Considering your circumstances, you thought your plan was quite a good one. You knew when he’d go out to the bar with his friends, which bar he’d go to, how long he’d stay, how he’d get a taxi home. You also knew when you’d arrive, how long you’d stay, and how you’d get a taxi with him– everything planned perfectly to best catch his attention. But for all your planning, there was still one thing you didn’t know. What kind of woman did Satoru Gojo go for? Someone submissive? Teasing? Aggressive? Playful? In all your time tracking him you’d never seen him take somebody home. It struck you as… odd. He was Satoru Gojo, renowned for his power, wealth, and good looks– surely he had women falling at his feet. Maybe he was just a little more… selective. If that was the case you’d have to be even quicker on your feet when you finally met him. And that time is now. 

You’re in your bathroom, checking your makeup one last time before heading out the door. Your brother sleeps soundly in the room down the hall, safe for the time being. You’ve contacted a friend, one who is at least willing to try to get him out if– when– you fail. You doubt it will be enough.

You make your way to his room. A quick peek inside reveals he’s snuggled up with a plushie elephant that he carries around like they’re attached at the hip. You creep inside, a sad smile on your lips. This may very well be the last time you see him. You brush a stray lock of hair from his eyes and press a kiss to the crown of his head. With one last whispered ‘I love you’, you’re out the door. If you linger, you won’t be able to go– and you have to. For him. 

The streets of Tokyo are cold tonight, like the weather knows what you’re about to attempt, like it’s preparing for death, for failure. For your failure.

The club you arrive at is upscale, and one where you’ve already tipped off the bouncer to let you bypass the line. You hear a few groans from the people behind you as you saunter straight inside. 

You’re conscious of every little move from the second you step inside. At any moment, he could see you and it could make or break your entire plan.

You press your shoulders back. You have a plan– stick to it. 

You make your way over to the bar, weaving your way between groups of people who are somewhere between giggling a little too loudly and tripping over their own feet. 

You find a free space at the bar and lean up onto your elbows, your eyes screening the bartenders. You smile when you see a familiar face. 

“Hey, Dean,” you call.

He turns and the sight of his friendly green eyes sets you a little more at ease. 

“Oh, shit. Hey!” He slings a towel over his shoulder and comes to stand across from you. “You’re back,” he says. You nod and smile softly. Ever since you’d determined this would be the place you’d been coming periodically, chatting up the bartenders. The last thing you needed was to stand around in a corner alone with seemingly no friends. That wouldn’t attract anyone, much less Satoru Gojo. 

Out of all the bartenders, Dean was your favorite– and you’d been oh so happy to learn that his schedule put him on every Friday night. 

“Yeah. Long day at work.” 

A smile pulls at his lips, but there’s a hint of sympathy in his eyes. “The usual, then?” 

You nod solemnly. “That’d be great. Thanks.” 

You watch him prepare the drink for you, feeling a little bad that it’s all a lie. There’s no bad day at work, you didn’t just happen to come in here one day and strike up a conversation with him. All of this is premeditated, planned, and it feels… lonely. It feels lonely to know that on what is probably your last night on earth you are surrounded by people who only think they know you. 

“So, anything new happening?” Dean drops your drink in front of you and you have a feeling it’s filled with a little more vodka than he’s supposed to put in there. 

Your eyes shift around the bar as subtly as you can manage. As much as you want to seem like you fit in, you also need to find Gojo. It’s a fine balance. 

You shrug. “Yeah, I guess I just feel like a lot of things are going to be changing for me pretty soon.” 

His brows pull together and the look he gives you is one of genuine interest and concern. It makes your heart wrench. “How so?” 

You swallow. “Dunno. Just… everything.”

There’s a moment of silence and then the tapping of a finger on your glass. “Damn, girl. Drink up. You need it.” 

You can’t help but smile. You have a feeling that Dean would have been a good friend of yours in another life. 

You take his advice, though, and bring your drink to your lips and force a smile. You can’t be moping– not tonight. 

The next twenty minutes are spent with Dean. Even when he’s making other drinks he’s still chatting with you, still being a good… friend. You dread leaving your little haven at the bar. The time is coming when you’ll have to seek out your target.

You’re shocked when it’s the other way around. 

“Hey, gorgeous.” There’s a light brush on your shoulder and you turn. It takes all you have to keep your features schooled and calm. Satoru fucking Gojo just tapped your shoulder. 

Nothing prepared you for how handsome he is up close. All those days of research, of tracking and tailing– none of it does the real thing justice. Even with those stupid sunglasses inside… he’s fucking beautiful. “I’ll pay for all of your drinks tonight if you let me skip this hideous line,” he whines. 

You give yourself no more than a second to recover. You school your features into a smirk. You glance at Dean with an ‘is this okay?’ look. He just smiles and shrugs. 

You turn back to Gojo, bracing yourself this time for the beauty you’re about to face. You meet his gaze and know you could get lost in it. “Be my guest.” 

His smile nearly blinds you and his dimples nearly make you pass out. Still, you keep your cool. 

“Yesssss!” He looks like a puppy just offered a bone. 

He spills his drink order to Dean and it’s far more than could possibly be just for him. He’s here with his friends, then. Probably the blonde man who always looks too tired to be here and the girl with the brown hair who always seems like she’s just along for the ride. 

You bite your lip to hide a laugh when he orders himself two strawberry daiquiris. Somehow you still catch his attention. 

“What?” he pouts. You can’t help but feel a small stirring of surprise in your gut. He’s far more… relaxed than you’d expected him to be. He’s almost… childish? 

You press your lips together and shake your head. You’ve reached the point where your research can’t take you any further. From this point on, it’s up to you to discover what Satoru Gojo likes in a woman. 

You debate how to answer. Play coy? Tease him? Stay silent? Any option could be as correct as the next. You didn’t know where to start… so maybe you’d just start by being yourself. 

“Just, um… not the order I was expecting,” you laugh. It’s halfway genuine. With the way he’s acting, it’s hard to remember that he’s the most powerful man alive. 

His pout only intensifies. “Well, what’s your order?” 

His question is answered when Dean sets another cosmopolitan in front of you. You laugh. “Never said I was judging, just that it wasn’t what I expected.” 

Another smile tugs at his lips and something stirs in your gut that you try your very hardest to ignore. This was a job. There was no room for actually enjoying it. This man was probably going to kill you later, in a matter of hours. 

There’s a beat of silence, and then a slight shift in his demeanor. He leans closer and you see a twitch of his lips. Your heart jumps. 

“You’re a sorcerer,” he says. 

You hold back an exhale of relief. You thought he might be onto you. If he is, he’s choosing not to reveal it yet. 

You nod and take what you hope is a casual sip of your drink. “And you’re Satoru Gojo.” 

A brow arches high enough for you to see it over his sunglasses. “You know who I am?” 

You force a chuckle, smirking despite the pounding of your heart. “Who doesn’t?” 

You’d decided long ago to tell him that you knew exactly who he was. It would seem more suspicious for a fellow sorcerer to have no idea what the Satoru Gojo looked like. 

He flashes you a smile full of white and stupidly fucking perfect teeth. “That’s true, heh.” You press your lips together to avoid a smile. Not too humble, then… 

“So, what’s your technique” 

You shoot him a glance that questions his sanity. Asking a sorcerer what their technique is… is personal. It’s not information you give out to a rando at the bar– even if it is Satoru Gojo.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You take another sip of your drink, trying your hardest to remain somewhere on the border or interested and casual. 

“Bet I could find out.” 

That makes you turn fully, angling your body toward his. “Oh yeah? You challenging me to a fight?” You smirk and shake your head. “I’ll pass.” 

He pouts again, but you see a hint of a smile peeking through. “Aw, come on. That’s no fun…” 

You chuckle and take another sip of your drink. You’re not sure you’re sipping just for appearances anymore. You think you probably just need a little liquid courage to see this thing through. “Sorry. I value my life.” 

You watch as he slides his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, just enough for you to get a glimpse of what’s behind. You nearly choke again and this time you don’t manage to hide your nervous swallow when he smirks. 

“You’re so sure you’d lose?” His voice is teasing now and you hate that it’s actually having an effect on you. Job, job, job, just a job… 

You clear your throat. “I like to think I’m not stupid enough to think that I could win.” 

His eyes are blue– so fucking blue– and you feel like he’s seeing straight into your soul. Can he see? Can he see your filthy intentions? Your plotting? The rottenness of what you’re going to do? “What if I promise to take it real easy on you?” 

Your drink is forgotten now. You’re lost in what he’s saying– in him. “No thanks.” Your voice is growing lower and you feel like there’s some magnet forcing you to lean into him, to seek his warmth. 

“So you like it rough, then.” The trance is broken and your blood runs hot. Holy shit. This man is flirting with you and you hardly even had to try. He's trying to take you home. Little does he know, you’re a sure thing. 

You watch as he throws back the rest of his strawberry daiquiri with a pleased “ahhh” at the end. When he turns back to you his eyes have a certain spark in them that makes your thighs press together. “You wanna dance with me?” 

Fuck. This is going too well to be real. But you’re not about to pass up a good deal. 

“What about your friends?” you ask and eye the several untouched drinks still left on the bar. It’s risky– giving him an out, but you can’t seem too eager.

He follows your gaze only to bounce his eyes straight back to you. “I’m sure they’ll get a look at ya and understand.” 

The smirk he’s giving you is making electricity shoot straight between your legs. Damn. You really wish you didn’t have to kill him– or at least try to. 

When he extends his hand you only hesitate for a second. Your heart leaps when you feel his skin on yours, knowing he’s let infinity down. He pulls you onto the dancefloor and it’s not long before he’s running his hands all over you– groping your ass, pinching your thighs, nipping at your neck. Pretty soon the dancefloor evolves to a dark corner of the club with his lips on yours and goddamn he’s a good kisser. You’ve got your fingers in his hair and his hand way too close to your boobs when he whispers those fateful words– “let’s get out of here.”

You can only hide your swallow and nod before he’s pulling you through the crowd, leaving the club behind. He hauls you both into the backseat of a taxi and the door’s barely closed before he’s all over you again. You think you hear the taxi driver mutter something about ‘staining the seats’ but you’re too far gone to give a shit. 

Fuck, he feels good. He’s kisses you like he’s starved and your lips are the fountain of fucking life, like he’s never felt something so good and now he can’t get enough. And, god, he’s handsy. You’re forever grateful to your past self for discreetly hiding your blade in your bra– he would have felt a holster on your thigh at least ten times over by now. 

He groans when you arrive at what you know is his apartment building, though you don’t let on that you recognize the place in the slightest. The look on his face makes you think he’s feeling actual physical pain at the prospect of having to peel away from you for even a second. Nonetheless, he tosses a wad of cash at the taxi driver and pulls you straight inside.

He can’t even wait for the elevator to come, groping your waist right there in the lobby and then when the elevator finally does come, shoving you up against the metal wall a licking stripe across your collarbone. 

You can’t deny how nice it feels to be so desperately… wanted. Never once has a man made you feel this way– so consumed by him, him, him. Once again you curse the universe that you’re here with a mission other than getting laid. 

You find yourself giggling when he pulls you out of the elevator and presses his palm to a fucking scanner to get into his apartment. You try to pull yourself together, but when he laughs with you, you can’t help but melt into him a little more.

As soon as the door clicks shut behind you, he’s got you up against another wall with your legs wrapped around his waist and his face buried in your neck. His sunglasses are long gone and you pull at his shirt, popping the buttons straight off the fabric until you slide the shirt down his shoulders and onto the floor.

“That was Versace,” he whines. 

You plaster your lips to his. “I don’t care.” All he does is chuckle. 

“So gorgeous…” he breathes and your head slumps back against the wall, giving him better access to the soft skin of your neck. Any minute now. Any minute he’s going to start stripping your clothes off and you’re going to have to let this charade crumble. You don’t want to. He’s practically worshiping you. It’s perfect, it’s amazing, and you don’t want it to end. 

His fingers dig into the flesh of your ass and suddenly you’re moving again– moving, moving, moving until your back is bouncing against the softness of a mattress and you’re fucking giggling again like a lovesick idiot. Maybe you’d had a few too many sips of those cosmopolitans. 

He’s smiling as he crawls over you and the sight makes your heart flutter with both lust and terror. Lust because he’s so fucking beautiful and terror because you know that any moment now you’re going to attempt to end that beauty forever. 

A lump forms in your throat and you try unsuccessfully to swallow it. You have to do this, have to try. There’s no other way, no other option. Not for you.

Your thoughts must not have been as perfectly concealed as you’d thought because he quirks a brow. “Something goin’ on up here?” His lips slide across your temple in a touch that feels far too tender for a hookup. “Don’t worry, baby. It’ll fit.” He snickers at his own joke before burying himself in your neck. His hand slides down your side, pressing you up into him until you can feel every curve and cut of his muscles. 

You bite your lip. You’ve already slipped enough for him to notice your nerves– you can’t let it happen again. You have to do it soon. Now. As soon as you see an opportunity you have to strike. You have to. 

You arch up into him, scratching your fingers down his back, trying to seem as invested in the moment as you can. He gets greedier, leaving open-mouthed kiss down your neck, across your collarbone. You nearly freeze up when he kisses low into the valley of your breasts– as low as your dress allows. Then he moves over your clothes, kissing down your stomach as his hands rub your thighs. 

Now. Now, while he’s not looking.

You slide a hand into his hair and another up to your chest, trying to play it off like you’re touching yourself. You sneak your fingers into your bra, feeling the cool metal of your blade glide across your thumb. Now. 

You fist your fingers in his hair, holding his head down as best you can while you arc the blade toward his neck. Just one good hit, please… 

You think you’re going to strike true– you’re so close– and then a firm hand wraps around your wrist, stalling your attack just as it was about to land. 

Fuck. 

He doesn’t look up right away, but you hear him sigh, feel his hot breath fanning over your thighs and stomach. When he finally does look up it’s with the eyes of a teacher who’s disappointed his student didn’t do their homework. 

“Come on now, baby. I was really hoping you’d forget about all this and we could just have a good night together…” He’s pouting, whining, like a child who’s been told he can’t have dessert before dinner. Your shock stills you long enough that he easily maneuvers the blade from your hand, throwing it with a thwack into the wall to his right. It lands perfectly. 

This is it. You’re going to die now. But not without a fight. 

You spring up from the bed, kicking him a couple times in the process. You’ve missed your only chance. Now, if there’s even the slightest chance of escape, you have to take it. 

You bare feet hit the carpet. No time to find your shoes. You dart for the door and hear him groan behind you. For a second you think you might actually make it, but you should know better. 

He appears in front of you, straight out of fucking thin air, and his pout has transformed into something a little more sinister. “Come on, gorgeous. Let’s talk it out, yeah?” 

You take a shaky step back, but you know it’s no use. He’s got you. It’s over. 

You swallow and lift your chin– you at least want to die with a little dignity. “Just make it quick. Please.” 

He sighs again and slides his hands in his fucking pockets, like this is just a stroll down the street. He stalks toward you, forcing you back until you’re pressed up against another wall. This motherfucker really likes walls. 

His pout shifts to a smirk that borders far too closely on a grin. “Oh, no. I’ve always had a thing for taking it slow.” 

You nearly snort. He certainly hadn’t had a thing for taking it slow just a minute ago. His arms cage you and your world grows infinitely smaller until it’s just him and those blue-ass eyes staring you down. Some distant part of you thinks you might not mind if it’s the last thing you ever see. 

“Damn, I really thought you might give it up and just let me fuck you,” his pout returns. “So disappointing…” he sighs. 

Your lips part. “You knew?” 

That lights his face up like a Christmas tree. “Sensed you tailing me these past few weeks. Started on theeeee– 21st, no?” 

Fuck. You’d been so careful. You’d only tailed him in public spaces, where your energy would be more diluted by the crowds. You’d stayed far enough away that he should only have caught mere glimpses of you, even suppressed your energy. He should not have been able to sense you. But he was Satoru Gojo– things people were not supposed to be able to do came easily to him. 

But you have one thing on him. 

“The 18th,” you whisper. “Started on the 18th.”

There’s a beat of silence and then his smile is growing wider, wider, wider, until it’s practically blinding you. “Well, shit,” he laughs. “You’re pretty good.” 

You let a tiny smile slip through your terror. “I try.” 

His eyes travel up and down your body, his pout slipping away to a frown. “What to do with you… hmm…” You lift your chin, taking shallow little breaths through your nose. You’re looking death in the face, but you’d never thought it would be so beautiful. He sighs. “I guess I could let you go.” 

You freeze. He notices. 

He quirks a brow, another smirk sliding across his lips. “What? Didn’t think that was an option?” You stay silent. No way he’ll let you go. It’s a bluff. A cruel trick. “It’s not like you could try again, gorgeous. I know your energy now and what you look like. Sorry, but your chance is gone.” That was fine by you. Your breaths come a little heavier, hope pulsing in your veins. “But–” shit. “Letting you go is so… boring. Especially after where we left off, yeah?” 

Your jaw drops. “You cannot seriously be suggesting that we–” 

He cuts you off with a kiss, one that makes your toes curl in the carpet and your stomach clench in anticipation. 

“Oh, yes I am,” he chuckles. You feel his hand sliding down your hip, cool and calculating. “I know you weren’t faking the whole thing, gorgeous. Nobody makes out like that when they’re faking it.” You feel your cheeks heat. “And nobody gets this wet-” his fingers snake beneath your skirt, pressing to the wet patch on your panties. “When they’re faking it.” You gasp and reach out, hands clasping onto his shoulders for support. He only chuckles. “No worries, gorgeous. No need for any more faking tonight. I’ll make sure it’s all real.” 

Somehow you’ve got your legs wrapped around his waist again and you’re headed to the bedroom– again. It’s like a replay– a redo. 

“Let’s keep it less killy this time, yeah?” 

Your back hits the mattress, your body bouncing lightly on its softness before he’s crawling after you. It’s simultaneously the best and worst deja vu you’ve ever experienced. 

His hands slide down your body again, fingertips hooking beneath the hem of your skirt and shimmying it up your thighs until your panties are on full display. 

“Shit,” you breathe. He’s moving so fast, like he’s desperate to go further, to get his greedy hands all over your bare skin. 

You can’t say you blame him. You feel the same.

His thumbs hook under the fabric of your panties and you know it’s over for you. You can feel his warm breath skating across your thighs, feel the calluses on his hands scraping against your skin. You reach a hand down, tangling it in his hair, and you nearly faint when he smirks and looks up at you with those blue fucking eyes. 

“I think I’ve seen this film before, sweetheart.” He tilts his head, resting his cheek on the plush of your thigh. “No more knives hiding anywhere, yeah?” 

You clench your jaw, trying to control your pounding heart. You can’t believe you’re doing this. Why are you doing this? You wish you had a better answer than he’s beautiful and sexy and just a glance at him makes you want to rip his clothes off and climb him like a tree. 

“Silent, hm? Guess I’ll just have to check myself…” 

He’s pressing up the hem up your skirt, more, more, more, until he’s pulling your dress straight up over your arms and running his hands down your bare sides. 

“None there…” His fingers cup your breast and you gasp, unable to contain your shock and the jolt that just rushed through you. He traces the outline of your bra. “You had the last one in here, no?” Your chest heaves under his touch, pressing the flesh of your breast up into his fingers. He smirks. “Best check again.” You feel an arm slide beneath you back and then your bra loosens before it’s completely gone. 

There’s a beat of silence, of admiration. He gazes down on you and you see his snark falter for just a moment, replaced by a sparkle in his eyes. It makes your skin heat. His fingers brush the swell of your breasts, thumb trailing down over a nipple. You arch and gasp again. 

“Fuck. Quit teasing so much.” 

He chuckles and the sound washes over you until it settles in your bones. “Sush. I’m not done checking for weapons yet.” 

You scowl but before you can even move to open your mouth he’s sliding your panties down your legs, hooking them around your ankles and tossing them somewhere on the floor.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you watch him settle himself down between your thighs, eyes never once leaving your center. “Don’t see any knives here, either, but maybe I should double-check…” he breathes. 

He hooks your legs over his shoulders and you shudder, your breaths shaky. Fuck. You were supposed to kill him tonight but if he keeps going like this you’ll be the one deceased. 

He meets your eyes when he takes the first long lick along your folds. You swear he’s smirking.

Your head rolls back and a pathetic sounding groan slips past your lips. You hadn’t realized how much he’d worked you up. Just the slightest touch feels like heaven.

His tongue nudges at your clits and your legs clench, tightening around his head. He laughs into your cunt and his warm breath skates up and over your tummy. Your fingernails scrape his scalp.

“I think you like this, gorgeous.” 

Each word sends little puffs of air against your folds. It’s driving you crazy. You stare down at him, letting a smirk pull at your lips. Your eyes dart over his mouth, wet with your slick, and you don’t fail to notice the way he’s struggling to hold your gaze, eyes flickering back down to your cunt every second. Your smirk grows. “I think you’re liking this, too.” 

He licks another stripe, from you pulsing hole to your throbbing clit, and this time he’s the one groaning. “Damn right I am.”

He eats you out like he kisses you– like a starved man, like he’ll die if he stops for just one second, like he can’t live without your juices on his tongue. 

You whine and bury both hands in his hair, tugging desperately when his lips wrap around you clit and suck. It’s so much, too much, and yet it’s just right. 

Your hips buck and squirm, but he’s got his fingers pressed deep into your flesh, holding you down to take whatever he gives. You think you see heaven when he slides two fingers into your walls, curling them into that gummy spot that has an unbearable heat building deep inside you. 

“S-Satoru-” you stutter and you hear him moan and mutter into your cunt like he’s unwilling to leave it for even a second.

“Fuck, yes. Say my name, sweetheart.” Who are you to deny him? You whisper, whine, and whimper his name with every thrust of his fingers, every lick of his tongue. It’s delicious. Every so often he swaps his mouth and hand, thrusting his tongue as deep inside you as he can while his fingers rub dangerous little circles on your clit. Whenever things get a little too filthy he laps his tongue across your entire cunt and along your inner thighs, cleaning up every stray drop. You don’t know how much longer you can last under such a complete and total assault. 

“S-Satoru, ‘m gonna-” He licks a thick stripe through your folds that makes your sentence end in a whine, his lips settling to suckle on your clit again.

God, it’s messy. It’s fucking disgusting. His whole chin is covered in spit and slick– and you love it. “Cum for me, baby,” he breathes. 

You don’t need to hear much more. You let the heat inside you release with a whine, thighs trembling on his shoulders. Your walls pulse and throb around his fingers, sucking him in and never wanting him to leave. His tongue continues to rub lazy circles around your clit, working you through your high and making it last so long you think you might pass out.

Warmth spreads from the top of your head to the tips of your toes and your muscles tense and clench with each pulsing throb. You swear to god you see fucking stars.

It seems to go on forever, leaving you limp and shaking when the last waves finally slip away. 

He presses a final kiss to your clit, one that makes your hips jolt from the overstimulation before he’s lifting himself up. “Wow. That looked like a big one,” he chuckles. He runs a soothing hand along your thigh and you don’t even have the energy to give him some sort of snarky reply. There’s hardly even a pause before something shifts in his eyes. “Let’s see if we can get one that’s even bigger, yeah?” 

Before you can even process what he’s said you feel strong hands slide under your thighs, pressing them tightly to your chest as he settles himself close to you

You grasp at the sheets, hearing the clinking of a belt buckle and then the familiar pitch of a zipper being undone. 

“Fuck,” you mutter. He’s big. Long and pretty and with a perfectly flushed tip. Your eyes are rolling back just thinking about having him inside you.

A strong hand smooths along your thighs, folding you in a way that feels more vulnerable and exposing than anything you’ve ever done before. He pauses for a beat, just staring down at you silently.

“Gorgeous,” he finally mutters, and something in your heart squeezes. His hand grips your hip firmly, holding you in place and you gasp when you feel him prodding at your entrance. It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. Big bad assassin turned simpering little bitch over some good Gojo dick. 

“Just relaxxxxx, baby.” His hand rubs soothing little circles into your side and it’s so divinely distracting that it catches you by surprise when he starts pushing into you. You gasp and he only chuckles. Asshole. 

He’s big– really big – and the stretch is somehow both painful and perfect. You groan into the air, struggling to take him. Every inch feels like it must be the last, but then there’s more. Your walls clench around him on instinct, trying to force him out. 

“Fuck, baby. What did I say about relaxing?” You hiss when his hand skates down your tummy to rub messy circles on your clit. The relief is instant and you moan when you feel him slide in a little further. “There we go. Good girl.” 

He continues feeding his dick into you, inch by inch, until his hips finally press to yours and you think you can feel him in your fucking throat. You hear him exhale, like it’s a relief to finally be fully inside you, like he’s been waiting for ages. 

You expect him to not hold back, to let himself go and pound into you relentlessly, but he doesn’t. He only leans down closer to you, settling in when he starts a pace of slow, sensual thrusts. His brows pinch, his eyes hardened in concentration.

“Ah, fuck. You’re so tight.” 

You want to shoot something back at him, but you’re hardly remembering to breathe with how deep he’s sliding into you. Instead, you just end up holding him tighter, your eyes fluttering shut. 

Lips dust across your cheeks, just below your lashes. “Keep your eyes open, gorgeous. Wanna see you.” 

You blink, thinking that it’s a notion that feels a little too intimate for a hookup. Regardless, you do as he wants, opening your eyes and holding his gaze.

A smile splits his lips and he presses his forehead to yours, picking up the pace of his thrusts. It’s not long before the sound of skin on skin fills the room and you’re both panting. His breath skates across your skin, hot and heavy, hitching with the groans and whines that spill from his chest. You can’t help but pull him closer, raking your nails down his back hard enough to leave marks. The action makes him emit a noise you can only describe as a desperate whimper. “Fuck, baby. Yes.” 

His lips press to yours in a kiss that’s all desperation and teeth and tongue. You kiss him back with equal intensity, your body rocking with each heavy thrust. He’s pounding into you now, frantic for more, more, more of you. You want him to take it, take all of you. 

A familiar heat pinches in your stomach and you know it won’t be long before he’s pushing you to another release. His dick drags in and out of you, prodding at the gummy spot inside you with every thrust and brushing so deliciously against your cervix that you can’t stop the moans spilling from your lips. It has you seeing stars again, has you clawing at him and panting into his mouth. 

“Satoru… harder,” you breathe. You need more– more of everything, of him. 

He groans. “You got it, gorgeous.” 

His hips slam into you and it’s so perfect that you can’t help but whimper beneath him. It only gets worse when you feel his fingers on your clit again, hand pressed between your bodies. “Cum on my dick, baby.” Your eyes roll back, that coil inside you rolling tighter. You feel his muscles tensing and shaking above you and you know he’s close, too. “Where do you want it?” he asks, and from the pinched look on his face you can tell exactly where he wants it. You know you’re an idiot for feeling the same. 

“Inside,” you breathe. He groans so loudly it rattles in your ears.

“That’s my girl,” he says, but it’s nearly a whisper with how strained it is. His hand continues at your clit, rubbing perfect little circles that make your legs tremble where they’re pressed against your chest. Your jaw hangs open, but you don’t dare close your eyes. Satoru is still holding your gaze intently, desperately, like he needs to see you. The thought throws you over the edge.

You cry his name, clawing at his shoulder and shaking like a leaf as you feel yourself gush and pulse all over his dick. For the second time that evening you feel the heat inside you swell and burst, washing through you in waves that nearly consume you whole. It’s a struggle to hold his eyes, to not let them roll back into your skull and give into the pure ecstasy of your high– especially when he’s cumming, too. You can hear him moaning in your ear, feel him twitching inside you, feel his hot cum coating your walls and there’s just so fucking much of it. You swear he cums for a minute straight before he slumps down onto you, burying his face in your neck as you pant. 

You’re shaking and so is he, breaths heaving in and out. Reality slowly starts to seep back in, even with his dick still softening inside you and his cum leaking down your thighs. 

You tried to kill him. You failed. You had sex. Now what? Would he really let you go like he’d said he would? You wanted to believe it, but life hadn’t taught you to be that trusting. You should move, untangle yourself from him and escape before he has time to change his mind. 

“You assassins are always thinking so hard,” He mumbles into the curve of your neck. “Maybe you should try to relax for once.”

You swallow when you feel him pressing his lips to your throat, trailing up to your jaw. It’s… tender, gentle, and it feels so nice. You can’t help the way you melt into the touch a bit. You feel him smile into your skin. “There we go.”

His hand settles on your waist, rubbing soothing little circles that send a jolt of urgency up your spine. No. You’re enjoying this– being close to him, laying here with him, breathing him in. That’s not what this is supposed to be. 

You tense again, shifting to get away from him, but he only sighs and presses his weight onto you. 

“Come on, gorgeous. No need to leave so soon. Just stay for a bit, yeah?” He nibbles at your jaw, but it doesn’t work this time. You have to go. You’ve failed your mission. You don’t know what that means for your brother. You’d never thought this would have an ending besides your death. 

“I have to go,” you mutter, pushing at his chest. 

He chuckles, but you don’t miss the strain and… hurt? “Got something more important than trying to kill me?” 

You clench your teeth, trying once again to shove him away. “Yes, actually.” 

He finally pulls back to meet your gaze, brows slightly pinched. “Like what?” 

You push in earnest now, anger and panic rising in your gut. You have to go, have to check on your brother, have to figure out what you’re going to do. “That’s really none of your business,” you seethe. 

You go for another shove, but strong hands clasp around your wrists, pinning them to the bed. His expression has gone flat now, serious. “Actually, I think it’s completely my business. You going to report your failure? Should I expect another assassin soon?”

You scowl, tugging at his grasp and trying to free yourself. “Yeah, probably. He’s an insufferable idiot. I told him it wouldn’t work and it didn’t, but I don’t doubt he’ll send another.” 

His face cracks, his brows pulling together again. “If you knew it wouldn’t work then why’d you take the job?” 

You struggle again, less angry and more desperate now. “Because he’s got my fucking brother at gunpoint and I’ve got to figure out how the fuck I’m going to save him!” you shout.

There’s silence for a long moment– a long, uncomfortable beat of it– and then his expression softens into something… tender. It sends a chill up your spine. Satoru Gojo was never supposed to be tender with you, and that’s all he’s been. 

“I’ll save him,” he says. Your heart jumps and his grip on your wrists loosens, allowing you to slip free. 

“What?” you breathe. He sits back, allowing you to prop yourself up into a slightly less vulnerable position. 

He exhales slowly, but you don’t miss the way his hand settles on your bare thigh, a comforting weight. “I’ll save your brother and then I’ll take care of your boss.” A smirk creeps across his lips. “What? Don’t think I can do it?”

You stare blankly, lips parted. There’s no doubt he can do it, but that’s not the question swirling in your mind. 

“Why would you help me?” You’d tried to kill the man. You couldn’t make heads or tails of a reason why he’d go out of his way to help you. 

He chuckles. “Well, in case you didn’t know, I’m a hero of sorts.” You have to fight not to roll your eyes. “And… there’s something I want from you.” 

There it is– the catch. He wants something. You have no idea what you could possibly have to give him, but you’re willing for it to be just about anything. You narrow your eyes. “What?” 

He grins, but you can see the glint of mischief in his gaze. His hand slides further up your thigh, up your side, over your shoulder, until it rests at the nape of your neck and his face is only inches from your own. “What’s your number, gorgeous?”

taglist (dm me or send an ask to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina, @fushironi, @enchantedsylveon, @keiva1000, @complexivelovely, @httpstoyosi, @bbyxxm, @6kabuki.

link: 1k followers event

please consider leaving a comment, sending an ask, or reblogging! interacting with authors is the best way to support them! thanks for reading ♡

[myafterlifeisbetterthenyours]

Stella with owl demon S/O (The finale)

(This is the last chapter in the secret lover mini-series. If your just finding it, go back and read the full series. Its a fairly long story.) Hope you enjoy~

Years of meticulous planning. Manipulation, blackmail and manoeuvring. And all for this one day.

It had almost been a year since Stolas cheated on Stella, almost a year since You and Stella had become a less than secret couple. And today you were going official.

It had been simple getting information on Stolas.

A few cameras here, a tapped phone line there, not to mention half the staff was on your pay roll. They gave you all the information you could need, you taking any information, no matter how minor.

Honestly, Stella coming to you was a pleasant surprise. You did have this grand plan in place, a plan to split the family at its seams.

And in an instant, Stolas' incompetence had saved you months of work. And so Stolas' arrogance, shall be his undoing.

Over the last year, youd had dozens of visits. Spending months carefully prodding the couple, if you could still call them that. You pushed the wedge between them deeper and deeper, all for today.

You strolled into the palace like it were your second home, a small wicker basket hanging from his arm.

Navigating the halls, you found yourself in the palace kitchen, or at least the one the family had used the most.

Grabbing a set of glasses, you turned to find Octavia sitting at the table. 'Octavia, dear, how are you.' You asked, sounding as overjoyed as you felt.

She looked up at you with dead eyes, 'How do I look.' She asked sarcasticly. And honestly, the girl looked like she hadn't slept in a week.

Sitting down you gave her a sympathetic look. 'Fight?' You asked simply.

She just nodded, taking a sip of coffee.

You sighed, placing your hand on hers. 'What about the white noise machine I got you, that help any?' You asked hopefully.

Octavia sighed 'It helped a little, but they both managed to yell over it.' She told you, rubbing her face.

You sighed again, reaching into your pocket. You pulled out a fist sized stone. 'Here' you told her, handing her the stone.

Octavia stared at the stone for several moments, before looking up to you, blinking heavily a few times, 'Uhhhh... thanks?' She said, clearly confused.

You let out a chuckle, resting your head on your hand. 'Your welcome.'

The girl stared at the stone, before looking back at you 'what is it?' She asked simply.

You laughed again, 'Well it was going to be a birthday present, but it would seem you need it more now.'

Picking up the stone you gently tapped its top, a complex Web of symbols growing across it. Tapping it once more the symbols disappeared.

Octavia looked much more interested now, as you explained it to her. 'This bad boy, is what you'd call a noise sponge. When activated, it basically sucks all the noise out of a room.'

Octavia stood up, 'Really?' She asked seemingly excited. With a smile you told her 'See for yourself' you told her before tapping the top of the stone.

Octavias mouth moved, but no noise seemed to leave. She spoke again and again, each time seemingly getting louder and louder, before taking a deep breath.

Her mouth stretched and her body moved as though she were screaming, but there was no sound whatsoever.

Tapping the stone, sound noticably re-entered the room.

Octavia panted, before giggling like... well a school girl. Picking up the stone, you handed it to her.

Octavia stared at the stone, getting up, you followed her. 'Now remember this. That's not a toy. Its a powerful artefact, so don't use it longer than needed, and no sound can be heard when activated, be careful where you use it.'

Octavia just nodded her head, her eyes never leaving the stone. 'Thanks (y/n)' she told you giving a big hug.

'No problem kiddo.' You told her patting her back and planting an affectionate kiss atop her head.

Leaving the room you reflected on your growing friendship with Octavia.

She truly was an amazing young woman, a spitting image of her mother, if a bit cynical. She had a deep fascination for the occult, something you were more than happy to help her explore.

The two of you had actually become pretty close, having talked and met up dozens of times. You acted as a confidant, and a suspected, only friend for the girl.

You didn't like manipulating the girl, but it was quite easy to sour her relationship with her father, you really only had to bring focus to his selfish nature.

Of course, that didn't mean she was running to Stella's side, but her trust in stolas was cracked.

So with some pep in your step, you made your way to Stella's study, giving polite and playful little bows to the palace staff.

Youd worked hard to become beloved by the staff, acting as sort the "good noble" that looked out for them. At least for the ones not ready on your payroll.

You found her study. Giving your outfit a once over you knocked on the door. Stella snapped back, telling you to go away.

You released a bitter-sweet laugh, you opened the door, 'Are you fucking d-' Stella yelled before cutting yourself off.

'Hello darling.' You said calmly. In an instant she got to her feet, rushing over and wrapping you in a hug.

You pulled her into a kiss, locking the two into a passionate embrace. Breaking the kiss, you asked her tenderly 'How are you doing, my love?'

You'd gotten very good at telling when Stella was upset and when she was trying to hide it, and now she was certainly upset.

'How am I doing? Oh you know, I've had to deal with my slut of a husband and that... fucking Imp! For months now.' She growled, taking several heavy breaths before turning back to you. 'Other then that, I'm fine.'

You gave her a sympathetic smile, before remembering why you were here. 'Well, then I have just the thing.' You told her, giving the basket a little shake.

You pulled her towards the door, Stella resisting. 'Lets go play' you tell her playfully.

'No, I can't' she tells you, resisting your pull 'I have to much work to do.' She said clearly upset at the reality of royal responsibility.

Pulling her close, you looked her in the eyes before firmly telling her 'Do you trust me?' You asked her sternly.

That seemed to surprise her, before she just nodded her head. 'Then we should do this... trust me'

Stella conceded, letting you lead her out of the palace.

Walking out the back of the palace, you passed the field she had once burnt to ash, now regrown into a healthy and lush lawn.

Taking her into the clearing, you layed out the blanket you'd brought in the basket.

Sitting down, you pulled out the bottle of wine. Pulling the cork, you poured you both a glass. Sitting there you both fell silent, a weight hanging over your head.

You turned to her, looking deep into her eyes, you told her calmly. 'Stella, theres nothing in this world I love more then you...' taking your hand, you placed a kiss atop it.

'I'm sorry... I'm sorry I was never good enough for you...' you told her, emotion growing in your voice.

She looked deeply concerned, asking you 'what do you mean?'

You shook your head. 'The truth is. All I've ever wanted was to be with you...' you looked at your hands, 'I had such plans to Get you back, to prove I deserved you. But stolas seems to have ruined everything... You deserve better and I'm going to give it to you.' You looked up at her, 'I love you Stella.'

Looking at Stella, she looked distraught, teary eyed as she pulled you close. 'I love you too (Y/N).' There was a long pause before she whispered in your ear, 'I wish I had been with you... all those years ago'

Her words put everything together, a wave of determination flowing through you. With your purpose secured, you pulled her into a passionate kiss.

The two of you became more physical, your hands roaming her body. Stella's arms wrapped around your neck. You becaming more passionate, Stella matching your energy at every step.

It was as you undid the back of her dress that you heard it... he was here.

Giving her another kiss you asked her, 'Do you trust me?' Your breathing still raged.

It took a moment, but Stella responded 'Yes, Yes I trust you...' With that you kiss her again, carefully readjusting her dress.

It took another moment, but you heard him. 'Well, well, what do we have here?' The voice was cold, clearly unhappy.

Breaking the kiss, you looked up to find a very angry looking Stolas staring down at you.

You carefully pushed Stella off, giving her a more innocent kiss on her cheek. 'Go play somewhere.' You whispered, standing up.

You turned to face Stolas. The prince was absolutely livid, tapping his fingers on his forearm.

'Stolas! My what a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?' That was a lie. You specifically picked this spot, at this time because you knew he would see the two of you.

All according to plan.

Stolas spat back, 'Don't talk to me like that you bastard. Trying to fuck my wife. In my own home, do you have no shame.'

You couldn't help but begin laughing. You gripped your legs, laughing so hard it was hard to breath.

Straightening up you looked at Stolas, allowing years of venom to show. 'Shame?' You asked incredulously, 'Your asking me if I have shame?' You chuckled again. 'Pot meet kettle.' You spat at him

Dusted yourself off. 'Shame...?' You spat, through gritted teeth. 'Youre asking me if I have shame? You speak of your lust before your child. Plastering the hellnet with your lust for that satan-damned Imp, Fucking that Hellspawn in the bed, you shared with your Wife. You know nothing of shame, you harlot!' You finished almost screaming.

Stolas grit his teeth, his hands dropping to his side. The weather began to shift.

The once clear sky quickly being replaced with a ocean of grey clouds.

'You think you can take my wife?' He asked seriously. Your smile grew, taking a few steps towards him, smugness growing across your face. 'Think? My good man... I already have.' you tell him simply.

With a flick of his claw Stolas manifested his Grimoire.

In a flash you reached into your coat, pulling out a silver lock and throwing it at the Grimoire.

Almost immediately on impact, dozens of silver vines shot out, wrapping around the book.

Stolas, initially shocked tried to open the book, the lock on its cover not budging against his grip.

He looked up at you, pissed and clearly expecting 'That little item,' you began 'ensures that your little book won't affect the outcome of our little fight, Stolas.'

You smirk at him 'Now' you began 'you'll just have to fight me like a man.'

Stolas seemed both concerned and enraged by this, throwing the book to the side. 'You think I'm scared of you?'

He reached for his cloak, dramatically throwing it to the side.

You just chuckled, cracking your knuckles, the demonic Prince charged, swinging at you.

You easily dodged.

'My, how impressive!' you said, mockingly.

Stolas swung again, and again, missing each time. 'Come on I don't have all day!' You called at him smugly.

Stolas went for a violent haymaker, missing again. This time you retaliated with a hard punch to his nose, hearing a crack apon your fist meeting his face.

He stumbled back, blood dripped from his nose as you taunted him further.

'You know I had such an elaberate plan, Stolas.' You told him, taking out a shiny set of knuckle dusters from back pocket. 'I had every step perfectly worked out, all to turn your family against you.'

Stolas, became enraged, blindly charging at you. You easily dodgeing him, giving him a violent crack to his face.

'And then you, you fool... you did most of the job for me... half my plan, unneeded because you were a selfish, arrogant fool.'

Stolas made it to his feet, his left eye already swelling. He widened his eyes, likely intending to turn you to stone, but before he could, you reached into your pocket and threw a handful of dust at him.

The silver dust shone as it flew through the air, his reaction was instant. Falling to his knees clutching his face.

You chuckled, leaning on your knees for a second, 'When Judas betrayed jesus.' You began.

'He received 30 pieces of silver, as such its toxic to demons. And now it's your payment for all suffering you've put your family through.' You told him, blankly, no emotion in your voice.

'Years, Stolas. I've been preparing for this fight for years. I've played this moments out hundreds, thousands of times. Nothing you can do I havent prepared for.' You wiped your lip, standing up straight. 'Your going to lose.'

You were taunting him now, relishing seeing him suffer.

Reaching down, you grabbed his hair, pulling him up. It was as you were about to taunt him again that you were suddenly punched in the face.

Stumbling back, you found stolas getting to his feet. Wiping his eyes he glared at you, 'You think I'm some push over? I'm a prince! I am a Goetia, I'm not gonna be taken down by some retched lowborne.' He screeched, raising his fists.

You just smiled back, wiping your cheek 'Finally... a real fight.'

The fight was a brutal, Stolas, despite his lanky figure and privileged upbringing, could pack one hell of a punch.

But you were prepared for this.

For every hit Stolas landed, you hit him twice. Every use of magic was thwarted with an item or counter spell. You were almost perfectly matched.

Almost.

You stood across from each other, fists bloody, clothes filthy and torn, bruised and battered.

Still a smile adorned your face. Chuckling, you began 'you've put up one hell of a fight, Stolas.' You said as though remembering something. 'But even if you beat me, I still win!' You told him smugly.

Stolas cocked his brow, 'what are you going on about.' You smiled again, before reaching into your jacket before you pulling out a long white feather.

'Stella, your uh, "wife"...'you ran the feathered across your nose, taking in her lingering scent. 'We've been fucking for the past year now.' You chuckled again 'we fucked everywhere, her study... your bed, and man... can she scream.'

That set him off, he charged you, releasing a desperate a d furious, battle cry, swinging like a mad man.

You dodged the swing, and with one final uppercut the demon Prince stumbled back. He looked at you shocked, before smacking into the ground.

You couldn't help but laugh. The piece of shit fell like a sack of rocks.

Turning around you found a very concerned Stella. With a smile you walked towards her, stumbling over your battered legs.

Stella ran to your side, helping you keep up right.

You chuckled, pulling her in for a kiss. 'I have something for you.' You told her, your voice course and worn.

Reaching into your coat, you pulled out a small black case.

Breaking her grip, you stepped back and fell to your knee.

Taking several deep breaths you began, 'Stella. You are my light in the darkness, the love of my life. There is nothing I wouldn't do for you.'

Opening the case, you showed the sparkling diamond ring. 'Stella, my love. Will you marry me.'

Stella looked shocked, tears coming to her eyes as she covered her mouth.

It took a moment, but she nodded her head, 'Yes... yes I'll marry you.' She said, her voice thick with emotion.

You just smiled.

Everything was perfect.

Just as you planned.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Human!Freddy Krueger x Fem!Reader || Oneshot

Title: What The Fuck Now, Freddy!?

Notes:

This is not inherently romantic, at all. Or sexual. Just... Freddy being a bastard, and you are caught in the crosshairs- and are forever linked with him because of it.

I've been listening to Lizzie, a lot lately- and this is inspired by 'What The Fuck Now, Lizzie!?'

Also- I'm thinking this will have a part 2. Due to the ending not being quite enough. Maybe a part for the court proceedings!

Plot: Many will know the story of that terrible day Krueger essentially snapped- killing his wife, Loretta Krueger. She saw the basement, they say, and he didn't like that. Their daughter saw the whole thing and suffered a traumatic response to seeing the sight of her mother, strangled to death, by her father- and forgot the whole thing.

But if she were to remember something, one day.

She may remember something no one knows about that day, aside from Freddy himself.

She may remember, that someone else was there.

She may remember you.

//

Alternatively- you're being blackmailed by Freddy who found out you, another supposedly Plain Jane in Loretta's 'mothers club', is cheating on your husband and calls you up to help deal with the mess he made. Because who else did he have?

Warnings: Okay lemme see, its basically a potluck of triggers. Hm. Murder, swearing, cheating (You, on your husband. Not with Freddy), getting rid of a body, a child gets traumatised (Obviously, Kathy/Maggie), Freddy himself, mention of the basement and all that entails, reader with a very questionable moral compass. Look, I think if you can watch Freddy's Dead, you're good here.

I'm just heading out the door, to go grocery shopping - or, at least, that's the story I tell my husband. When really I don't do the grocery shop until the day after tomorrow. He never notices... - when the phone rings. By very nearly tripping over my feet in my endeavour to catch it before the ringing stops, I manage pick up the phone with very little injury besides an achy, slightly twisted ankle. "Hi! Hi, sorry, I'm here. Hello?"

Pouting, I sit down at the kitchen table; Rubbing my poor ankle to sooth the pain, which would soon diminish anyway. Still- I'm sorry, ankle. I'll try to chill.

When the voice on the other end reveals who it is who's called the house, I lose all need to be pleasant. Damn. I really need to memorise this goddamn number... so I can not answer it. "Whatcha wearin'?"

"Thank god Harrison didn't answer this, you fuck." I deeply roll my eyes. Thank god Har's out. No, this is not my mister, not the man I was going to meet just now- but its bad, enough. In an entirely different way. Its stupid, blackmailing, son of a... hundred maniacs. "What do you want?"

"What a way to answer the phone, Y/N. Gee, seems like every time I we talk, I'm learning how you really aren't in the right place, are you? Cheating on your poor husband, swearing... These aren't really signs of the perfect suburban house wife, is it?" Gritting my teeth, I keep from lashing out. I've learned, if you stay real quiet, Freddy wont have anything to pull from and will get bored quick. "Why so silent, hm?"

"... " Oh, fuck me. I cant help it. "Wondering where you get off judging me on being 'suburban', actually."

"Anywhere I like, thanks."

Oh... oh. Gross?

He doesn't see the disgust tearing my face into two perfect halves right now, but my silence must be enough as he laughs. The sound is directly into the phone, and harsh on my poor eardrums. Ugh... "Oh for gods sake... What are we? Fourteen years old?? Come on- why'd you call?"

"Uhhhh... " Quickly, midway through that drawn out 'um' sound, Freddy's voice transitions, and gets a whole lot darker. Something deep in his chest dislodging, to make it so. Perhaps, his heart. "Well... you might wanna come and see for yourself."

"Uh, I don't think so. I have somewhere to be right now- "

"Oh well you don't, anymore." And its clear what he isn't saying- or else I'll tell Harrison about Carter and set your life on fire. "Tell your boy toy you're takin' a reign check for the day. I think you'll last. In fact... after you come over here, you might be out of the game for a couple a hours at least- maybe days."

Hold on, hold on Freddy what the fuck- "What!?"

"... Believe it or not, I didn't actually mean for that one."

Moron.

~

Nevertheless, no matter how just... off setting, Freddy is, I had to when he asked. I had to jump when he said so.

Because if not, then he would tear my life apart.

So here I am, about to knock on that big red door he lives behind, wondering what I'm walking into. Where's Loretta? Where's Kathy? How long will the visit be? I told Carter I'd be an hour or two late- any longer and I wont see him at all today. Which would absolutely suck.

Just after my knuckles come down on the wood the first time, a hand comes down on my shoulder and I immediately jump out of my skin... then slowly look around.

There's Freddy, a cheeky grin on his face. It does nothing to set my nerves at ease. "Ugh... Why are you out here?"

"We're going to the backyard. Lets go." Taking me by the shoulders, he marches me around the side of the house, instead of through it for some reason, and into the familiar backyard. I've been here numerous times, as Loretta likes to hold our club meetings here - Barbecue's, tea's... that sort of thing. Just to let the kids play together and so the adults can enjoy some adult conversation. Its a nice yard... but depending on what her horrid husband is about to show me, it may not be considered as such anymore... - , but I'm now starting to develop a sick feeling in my stomach.

Honestly- I don't know much about Freddy at all. Yes, I went to school with him, but that doesn't mean much when he was a freaky loner kid the whole time. I remember he killed the class hamster once- that's about the only splash he ever made in the news pool; But it definitely stuck.

Yes, Loretta cleaned up his image a fair bit since getting married, but now he's blackmailing me, and as far as I know I'm now alone with him.

Suspicious of him suddenly, I slip out of his grip with a dirty look flashed his way. Don't touch me.

He just rolls his eyes, leading me around some hedges.

And then everything stops.

Him, me, the air; The air around me, the breeze, the breath in my throat.

There lays Loretta, on the ground. If I was really really naïve, I could imagine she were sleeping... or passed out, at least, due to the way she's sprawled out. No one would lay down like that willingly.

But... her eyes are open.

For a moment I'm tempted to kneel down; Take a closer look. Find out how, myself. Is she bleeding anywhere that I cant see now? Are her lips turning blue? If I moved some short red hair out of the way- would their be marks on her neck yet?

But then I come to my senses...

And freak. The fuck. O u t.

"What, the fuck, did you do!?" I whip around, looking at Freddy now which entirely new eyes. I mean, before I sure wasn't fond- but now I'm filled with something new, looking at him. Something a lot worse, something that makes me want to run. Run, and hide, and stay there.

And all these, even though he hasn't really changed. He still wears a mischievous smirk, stony blue eyes eating up my reactions... like always. But this time its just so so much worse. "Made some dead weight- now you're gonna help me get rid of it. So!" Finally, though its been only a matter of seconds, he turns his gaze off of me and I'm glad. That gaze is far too heavy. "Ideas?"

Only for a moment am I lost for words, struggling to push anything out. "I... I'm sorry??"

His gaze returns to mine, but this time my eyes are hard as his are dark. "Help. Me. Get rid of her. Fucking. Body. Or do you want your dirty laundry aired for the whole community to hear?"

Before I can help myself, I let out a sharp laugh, only succeeding in making Freddy's scowl deeper. "Freddy- this secret's a lot bigger, then mine. Sure, I might get divorced- but you're going to prison!" Does he get that? He's g o i n g to j a i l. Crossing my arms, I try to avoid looking at my ex-friend's body. I cant. "I'm sure as hell not gonna be in there with you, for being an accomplice."

I really cant look at her... I can only focus on Freddy. And that takes a lot of energy- its taking everything in me, in fact. Everything I have. But I have to. If its him or her, there's no choice.

But... then a creepy smile spreads across his face- a vast polarity to the frustrated glower of before. It makes my blood run cold.

"Ohhhh..." He looks almost ferocious, even in his composed state. Like a monster. Like any moment a fanged, inhuman creature is going to burst out of him and I'm going to wake up, and this will have been a nightmare. A horrible nightmare. The kind where that creature haunts me for a long time, after its over. After this over.

He's going to haunt me.

"You must think this is my first time... " My heart turns to ice, mouth hanging a little open... what the fuck have I found myself a part of!? Suddenly all the children's disappearances on the news lately come to the forefront of my brain... "Sweetheart, give a man his dues. I'm a hard working kinda guy... " I watch his gaze flicker to a door - the back door? No... The basement door, - and when a filthy smirk pulls at his mouth, my heart flies up into my throat. God, it makes me feel sick. I want to be violently ill. "My first was my adoptive Dad... pretty sick, huh?"

The fact that he didn't say anything about the basement, makes my imagination go wild. I swallow it down, though.

I just need to get out of here, and never think about this again.

And to do that I need to help Freddy get rid of this goddamn body- and... probably... testify at court... As the panic starts to finally rise up in my, right up to fill my throat, I immediately take in a deep breath and slowly let it out. "Okay... " No time to freak out. Now's the time for action.

Gaze flickering to Loretta again, I try to acclimatise to the sight. I think its a lost cause, though. "How did you get rid of him? Your Dad?"

"No, that's not gonna work. He was a drunk dead beat, and I just had to tell the police some guy's he owed money to came over to the house." Freddy grins happily at the memory, but then just as quickly, scowls at his poor deceased wife's body- that certainly cant fight back. I just tack this onto the long list of reasons I hate him. "Lore's such a goddamn goody goody- we cant do the same thing. You don't think I woulda thought of that??"

"Hey." I snap, hands braced on my hips as I flash a glare his way. "This is not the time to get defensive!"

"Whatever... "

Then- suddenly, something occurs to me. Confused, I look around; A deeply horrified feeling disturbing my stomach. "Hold on... Where's your daughter?" Seeing no sign of her anywhere, I definitely start to panic again- especially when I look to Freddy and just see a pert look in his eyes as he looks back at me, a smile that strikes something horrid inside me. My eyes narrow. "You sick fuck- where the fuck is she!??"

"Under the bed."

"What the fuck does that mean!?" I exclaim, frustrated and freaking out. He did not- he did not! Killing your spouse is one thing, but the kid?? Your own kid??

I don't wait around for him to be cryptic some more, and rush right into the house to look for her. Under the bed, under the bed, under the fucking bed...? Which fucking bed!? Forcing ferocity out of my voice, I carefully call out to Kathy. Hoping to god she answers. I try to sound normal. Maybe a little bit cheerful; Excited.

But my voice wobbles.

"Kathy?? Sweetheart, its Y/N! Are you hiding? I have something for you... " ?? You have something for her, Y/N?? God... now you have to figure out some kind of treat.

You know what? Whatever. We'll figure that out later.

Lets just hope we aren't searching for a corpse. I'd definitely be sick, seeing a child... the way Loretta is...

Shaking my head and clenching my fists, I try to focus on Kathy.

I check under the bed in the guest room because it comes into view first and she isn't there, then her bedroom and she isn't there either... and get a sick feeling as soon as I enter the last bedroom. Freddy's and Loretta's.

God, I've never been in here before but its like a museum peace now. A horrible one. Like if you would walk into the Titanic... or the Borden house.

"Kathy? You in here?" Flicking on the light I kneel down on the ground, and check under the bed.

And something immediately crashes over me, as the sight of her covering her eyes down there. It isn't exactly relief, because this whole situation is still phenomenally fucked up for her, but I am selfishly glad to not have to see her body... crumpled, just like her mother.

"Hey sweetheart," My voice quivers slightly now, but I quickly swallow. No. No. Now, you must be strong Y/N. "Its just me. Your Daddy was looking for you, and couldn't find you! It got him worried!"

"I... I don't wanna see Daddy. He hurt Mommy." Kathy doesn't remove her hands from her face, and stays firmly by the wall- too far away for anyone to grab. My heart sinks.

Slowly straightening up again, I try to take that piece of information in. Turning to the doorway, I see Freddy there. he must have followed me. I didn't even notice. Slowly, and quietly ferociously, I say; "She saw?!"

He has the good sense to look embarrassed, even if it is just to make fun of me. "It was spur of the moment... " He shrugs. "I didn't have time to get a babysitter!"

What a fucking excuse. For gods sake.

I'm definitely dealing with a psycho- if that was even a question before now.

Swiftly, I look down under the bed again, because I'm afraid that if I continue to engage with him- I'll scream, and I'll lose my breath, and I'll scare Kathy even more. She's at the forefront of my mind; That's all I can think about.

But what to do with her after I get her out from under this bed, I don't know. I cant give her back to her father... but I cant hand her over to the police either because that would involve telling them about Loretta, and... Freddy will definitely kill me, for that.

This is a nightmare of a situation.

I'm just opening my mouth to say something - what, I don't know yet, - when she speaks, instead. "Is he there?"

"... Yes." I wont lie to her; That would be treating her with not nearly as much respect as she deserves.

When she takes a deep breath and rubs her eyes, as if just trying to keep herself together, my heart clenches. God... and to think I might not have picks up Freddy's call today. I would have been leaving her with this. For the first time today, I'm morbidly glad I came.

She speaks in that loud, hissy way that kids think is a whisper. "Can he... can you please make him go away?"

Immediately I straighten back up and look to Freddy again, my eyebrows raised halfway up my forehead. Like well? "Get out."

"I don't think you're in a position to make demands here, bi- "

"Do you want Kathy to live down there now!??" I snap, trying not to be scared. Not really feeling scared, actually. Just happy to have a reason to tell him to get the hell away from me.

A deep frown creases his mouth, deeply unhappy about the situation, but steps back. I only hear him step out of the way of the door, but its good enough. Quickly, I get up and close the door - fighting with myself not to slam it, - and lock it.

Then I return to the floor, and see this time Kathy has uncovered her eyes. She looks so small, smaller then she actually is, and she looks like she's shaking. Little red bows and piggy tails in her hair are messy from crawling under the bed. "He's gone, sweetheart. And I locked the door."

She just nods, so I take the silence as a chance to offer my hand to her. "Take my hand, sweetie? Come on out from under the bed. Its cold down there, and no one wants you getting sick." I need to upkeep the family friend bit, I need to sound caring and collected. I need her to trust me.

Her big eyes, not Loretta's colour or Freddy's, look nervous as hell. And she shakes her head.

Taking a deep breath, and I conjure all the sincerity as I can. And mean it. My eyes soften and I try really hard, to resent myself as someone trustworthy- which is hard, seeing as I've never really been that. I mean, I'm cheating on my husband. I told Carter today the same lie I told Harrison when i knew I was going to be late. The only person I think who knows the truth behind all my lies is Freddy. That says something about a person, that the only person who knows them is a psychopath.

But I want to, I need to, be good for this little girl. And there's no time for me turn my life around so it has to start with this. How fucked is that?

"... I promise, I'll take care of you. He wont hurt you."

After a few whole minutes, in which I stay silent because yes she's a child, but she's still thinking, she crawls over and takes my hand, letting me lead her out. Crawling into my lap as I cross my legs under her, she buries her face in my shirt- hiding. "You promise?"

Taking a deep breath, because I've really done it now, I offer my pinky for her to see if she turned her head. I know Freddy's listening to all of this through the wall, but I try not to freak out. "Pinky swear?"

"Pinky swear." She peaks out from my shirt, and curls her little finger around mine. Okay... "Y/N... I'm scared."

"Yeah... Me too, sweetie."

What am I going to do?

[transsexualhamlet]

sherlock holmes reactions part 4 (?) ive lost count already but unsurprisingly ive grown even more attached to him

using this as the cover image because i made him a playlist. cause im awful

no legit this is gonna need a read more because it's SO LONG SHIHEWIESHEFSHIEWHF

Had three mental breakdowns this week and realized i do in fact kin sherlock motherfucking holmes. this does not bode well for anything in my life mentally I've diagnosed him with so many things

Oh boy lol you want the list I think hes autistic (undisputed honestly) plus also adhd but on top of that there's the manic depression and uhhh the bpd lmao I dont even think that's it those are just. the obvious ones

But yeah man's a fucking mess and a shit person but in the same way as me so 👍

Some highlights I thought were very funny:

watson: we are in fact going to be waltzing into a place where people are Shooting People you do not have your gun. this is a problem

sherlock: don't worry watson I have my trusty stick!

watson: visible pain

This clearly happens like every day or so with them

but yeah there were some really honestly sweet scenes with them at the apartment and why am i getting soft over the crusty man being gay

have you considered tho. have you considered them

have you considered sherlock, who usually only plays absolute garbage on his violin serenading watson to sleep when he was tired and in pain and watson being so fucking in love with the man and waxing poetic about falling asleep to his music and waking up to see him fallen asleep on the couch next to him and oh my god them

They're just really sweet together for such a completely dysfunctional couple so much of the time lol I just. Sherlock being like.

Sherlock half of the time: watson you're fucking stupid. no i won't take care of my personal needs stfu. watson get a goddamn life. watson shut up. watson no one cares about your goddamn opinion. no i need to disturb you in the middle of the night it's for science. hey watson mind if i manipulate mansplain malewife

Sherlock the other half of the time: HELLO SIR YOU ARE MY FAVORITE MAN TO EVER MAN HELLO MAY I SPEND THE REST OF MY DAYS WITH YOU HELLO I WILL DO ANYTHING FOR YOU WE ARE PERFECT MATCHES I LOVE YOU AND I NEED YOU YOURE SO MUCH BETTER THAN ME PLEASE MARRY ME

They're... they certainly are.

ALSO OH MY GOD.

THIS ONE TIME WHEN SHERLOCK WAS JUST PACING AROUND THE ROOM AT 3 AM GOING "IT DOESNT MAKE SENSE >:(((" AND HUDSON LIKE BARGED IN TO COMPLAIN AND THEN WATSON WAS LIKE DUDE YOU GOTTA STOP DOING THIS AND PROCEEDS TO SAY THE LINE "YOU ARE KNOCKING YOURSELF UP, OLD MAN"

BAHGHSFHGRHEWHEWHIFEW

BRB SOBBING

CALLING HIM AN OLD MAN???? KNOCKING HIMSELF UP?? I DONT KNOW WHATS FUNNIER

The main highlight of this part was I have now gotten to see him have a great time watching his homo homie get married

Its so fucking funny.......

I was prepared for a funny reaction by yuumori sherlock's face when he said it lol but. Damn i was really not prepared tbh

watson: I'm engaged!

sherlock: *pained groaning*

watson: do you... not like her?

sherlock: no she's fine she's great you'll be wonderful together bUT I HATE IT WHEN PEOPLE ARE HETEROSEXUAL WATSON DO I HAVE TO MARRY MYSELF THEN WATSON? ARE YOU GOING TO MAKE ME MARRY MYSELF.

watson: yeah... yeah... fair, I feel really bad because you did this whole case and I got a girlfriend out of it and all you got was me leaving you alone fuck man im sorry what are you gonna do without me

sherlock, highly sarcastic: dont worry watson I've always got my handy cocaine! *pulls it out and gets high in front of watson just as he's about to leave*

watson: *in fucking agony*

sherlock: good for you!

I DONT EVEN- THIS SCENE KILLED ME MULTIPLE TIMES OVER WHAT

ITS SO GODDAMN NONCHELANT ABOUT IT SHERLOCK IS JUST LIKE YEAH I WILL IN FACT NOT BE MENTALLY HEALTHY IF YOU ARE NOT WITH ME 24/7 BUT WHATEVER YOU DO YOU /S

I'd like to apologize to watson on sherlock's behalf lmao. man is being a bit too codependent on main

The last thing about sign of four I do need to address is yeah, there's the Horrific Amounts Of Racism in that one and the whiplash hearing it is just ridiculous because they seem to be so knowledgeable in all other areas and fairly... politically correct, taking sherlock's original misogyny as a purposeful character flaw, but then they just mention someone indigenous once and suddenly its all parrotting racist propaganda and just... really awful shit. There's no way I'm gonna speak for the group that just got absolutely hate crimed here but anyone can tell the author just has no clue what he's fucking talking about and it's physically painful.

And I don't know, it's just so bad it seems out of character? Doyle's making these motherfuckers say shit that honestly, Sherlock would know better about. And especially Watson. Come on, you cannot tell me watson is mentally capable of being prejudiced against someone. Please do not make him that way.

I'm not sure how to handle it specifically, or what's the proper way I should handle something like that in a media I otherwise like. Is it ok to say Doyle was clearly a piece of shit on the matter and separate those characters from his bias or is that insensitive?

I don't know, I was Not a fan of it and I'm glad to see they've at least finally shut up about the guy

But anyway yeah, uhhhh onto the short stories because I'm trying to read those before I get to the final problem

Scandal in Bohemia was a fucking ride, first of all, before we even get to Sherlock's girlboss arc we have to discuss how gay the whole situation was and how Doyle's attempt at making them less gay failed spectacularly

Like he's all "ah yes I need to marry off watson and uhhh make sherlock ummmm interact with a woman so they dont look gay" but he does it SO BADLY that it makes them look EVEN GAYER

cause i mean, even the conversation they had about watson getting married back in sign of four was gay af, but how Doyle handled things afterward was in no way straighter.

Cause you know, the man kind of wrote himself into a corner with the fact of Watson narrating these stories. So Watson has to be around to witness them, and to witness Sherlock's own thought process rather privately, so he has to be around sherlock at night, a lot. But trying to come up with a reason for that happening just... it didn't occur to Doyle. He just went. Ah yes this makes sense. And it's Watson just like Sleeping Over At Sherlock's like every other goddamn day and every time his wife leaves town and having them basically still live that cute domestic home life but they have absolutely no excuses for doing it anymore. It's quite funny

Like it was gay already the way they interacted when they officially lived together but it was like, a necessity for them. Now it's not, Watson just comes over because he goddamn wants to, and it's hilarious to me.

LIKE IDK I THINK THEY KIND OF BROKE UP FOR A YEAR OR SO BC OF WATSON GETTING MARRIED AND THEY LIKE DONT HAVE CONTACT WITH ONE ANOTHER BUT ONE DAY WATSON JUST INEXPLICABLY HAS THE URGE TO COME VISIT SHERLOCK ON NO NOTICE AND THEN SUDDENLY THEY ARE TOGETHER NEAR 24/7 AGAIN LIKE BARELY ANYTHING CHANGED AHIEHOEWH

SIT DOWN AND TRY TO TELL ME THOSE ARE NOT HOMOSEXUALS

Watson walks in on no fucking notice after a full year and Sherlock is just. In the middle of some experiment obviously but hes like

Sherlock, carrying around unidenfiable chemical mixtures: W A T S O N you look good you look good! i see you've gained seven pounds!!

watson: uh. thanks??? Hey lol *awkwardly waves* Uh um Wanted to Uhm sEe you

Sherlock: ABOUT gODDAMN TIME AND YES WONDERFUL LOOK LOOK SIT DOWN I HAVE THINGS TO INFODUMP ABOUT

watson: :) ok :) *turns to camera* and we were back to the old days

sherlock: makes a deduction

watson: wowwwwwwwwwwww !! so true bestie !!

sherlock: !!!!!!!!! :))) !!!!! :))) uh fuck im supposed to be smooth Its Elementary Lol

watson: *turns to camera* when i stroke his ego like this and compliment him he blushes like a girl like i just complimented his dress so i do it more because he likes it. this is a homie trait

watson: well i should probably get going! my wife will notice that i am gone my dear buddy bro homie!

sherlock: NO DONT LEAVE IM LOST WITHOUT YOU (pretty much a direct quote lol) your. wife doesn't. get back home until monday. I know this because I am smart and definitely have not been stalking you.

watson: alright :)))))

AND THEN HE FUCKING SLEEPS OVER LMAO FUCKING HOMOS

So yeah they're right back where they were before pretty much and there's a case bc of course there is

And honestly I think this short story specifically was so insane mostly just because of how absolutely fast it all went. Yuumori kind of made me believe the original Irene Adler was more of an important character than she really is? And I think that's. Honestly so funny. Motherfucker shows up for ten pages, girlbosses her way around town, and changes sherlock's entire opinion of the female gender while still keeping him gay?

LIKE NO LOL SHES NOT IN ANY WAY A LOVE INTEREST AND WATSON GOES OUT OF HIS WAY TO SPECIFY THE FACT THAT IN NO WORLD WOULD THEY HAVE BEEN ROMANTICALLY INVOLVED BECAUSE. SHERLOCK. DIDN'T DATE WOMEN.

HE WAS JUST??? SO IMPRESSED AND SHELL SHOCKED BY HER EXISTENCE HE DECIDED IT WAS TIME FOR GIRLBOSS APPRECIATION DAY TODAY AND ALL DAYS HENCEFORTH???

AND THEY HAVE LIKE O N E INTERACTION?? God, the power this woman(?) has. Watson looks at her once like. damb shawty 😳 and she's like "no<3" and he's like FUCK

Like yeah it's pretty much just the king walking up like "help girl the whore is blackmailing me" and sherlock being like "ok lol this will be easy" and then it proceeded to not in fact be easy or even possible

sherlock like... posed as a dead body and tried to get her to give up the location of the photo but she out-acted him and skipped the town the next day after doing the 'good night mr. sherlock holmes' thing with sherlock completely tricked

and she just. sends a letter like "dear sherlock holmes. you're a fucking idiot and i think it's funny that you lost. nice job tho mad respect" and sherlock just SHORT CIRCUITS

the king comes back a bit later like "hey Dude where's my Photo" and sherlock's like oh yeah uhhhhhhhhhhh about that and the king is like HOW COULD IT POSSIBLY HAVE BEEN THAT GODDAMN HARD i would have dated someone more noble if she wasn't so pretty i swear im on a whole different level from her

and then. GIRLBOSSIFIED SHERLOCK HOLMES RESPONDS "from what I have seen of the lady, she seems indeed to be on a very different level from your majesty" ABSEHHESHEFHHFES ROASTED

and the dude just LEAVES

After that I read a few more of the short stories and well the highlights I got from that pretty much were these conversations

Watson: sherlock. honey. have you. eaten anything today

Sherlock: IT DIDNT OCCUR TO ME DEAR WATSON

Watson: ITS FIVE PM

and:

Sherlock: *having one of his Moment Moments at three in the goddamn mornig* GRRRR CRIME ISNT WHAT IT USED TO BE

Watson: MY DEAR SHERCOCK WHAT IS CRIME S U P P O S E D TO BE LIKE ACCORDING TO YOU

Sherlock: no one's original anymore fucking copycats

Watson: so you want the criminals to make things harder for you specifically.

Sherlock, exasperated: yes!

I love them your honor.

[mothsmen]

ok, lets talk:

Spoilers for episode 127 of Critical Role below:

So. Holy shit. What an episode. I was so caught up in the beauyasha of it all that I did not think there was going to be a poorly executed heist tonight folks, but I have to put some thoughts down or I’m gonna go nuts. long analysis under the cut

Let me start off by saying I am not going to bash any players, because this was a tough session and the combination of some bad rolls and wrong choices cause shit to happen. I respect these guys too much and it’s their game, we are lucky to get to be a part of this. 

Now, lets break this fuckery down a little. 3/7 of the MN are currently stuck underground with an evil archmage. Beau is separated from the other outies still. The last thing the rest of the outies heard was to get the hell out. We have a few things to think about, so lets start small and work our way up:

I think Beau is fine, even though she’s separated from the others. She’s fast, and honestly her being on the tower might have saved their asses. Cad would probably have taken them all to Nicodranas if she was still there. 

The guards. They now know shit is happening, or will very quickly, because of the dragon and Trent. The outies might have to deal with that, but I’m more worried about other things. This is the last of what I would consider more minor problems.

Caleb, while on his murder spree, used dunamancy. That is uhhhh maybe really not good. If anyone thinks they are aligned with the Kryn the war could easily restart. If they all live, the consequences of this would definitely be interesting when it comes to Caleb, who was so focused and adamant on peace, yet his carelessness and rage might have restarted the war he fought so hard to end. Trent could easily try to frame this as a Kryn attack, but we’ll see.

The only info the outies know is that they need to get out of there. If Beau gets back to them, and they still haven’t heard from anyone, they might go to Nicodranas, accidentally leaving Jes, Veth, and Caleb with no back up. That could be a huge fucking problem. Like totally campaign changing problem, especially if things go bad with Trent. If they lose Caleb or they’re taken, the MN can’t get back to Aeor in time to stop the TT. They’re cutting it kind of close as is, being day 3 out of 7, not to mention they have to get to the secret entrance, maybe set a trap, go in before the TT, which takes time. Could be very bad.

Jester, Veth, and Caleb, are stuck with Trent right now. I can only see this going maybe four possible directions:

Trent just rips into them. Unlikely but not impossible, they were stealing his valuable shit. If this happens, it’s not likely everyone will make it out alive. Now, Caleb seems pretty unhinged rn so I wouldn’t put it totally past him to attack Trent, but I’m hoping he doesn’t. If there’s combat with just the three of them v Ickythong, the only way for them to make it out alive is to probably get Trent to use his reaction before Jester’s turn so she could actually get them out. Now, while it might save their lives for the time being, if they don’t talk with Trent they will be in very deep shit with the empire.

They talk to Trent and strike some sort of deal that almost certainly will not be in the MN’s favor. I’m thinking giving up/killing Essek, telling Trent about the TT and somnovum(spelling?), giving up allura’s staff, getting blackmailed in various ways, giving up Caleb, it could go a lot of ways.

They are able to contact the outies and the outies come to help. I have a feeling this would almost certainly mean combat, which is better odds, but would really fuck them with the Empire. They would literally look like they were just going after Archmages, and if  they’re caught, The City is on the way.

Similar to the first point, Jester might able to dimension door out, but would only be able to take one other person, probably leaving Caleb. And unless he is able to strike a deal or talk himself into a better spot and he can escape, there’s no way to get to Eiselcross and will be down a Caleb.

None of their options are particularly great. They’re pretty fucked here. My main concerns are Caleb, and the possibilities of him either giving himself up, getting killed bc he has the lowest hp rn. And, the outties not getting a signal and going to Nicodranas.

Now, that’s mostly all I have to say neutral analysis-wise, and the following are going to be my hot takes: Caleb should not have gone in there. When he said he was going in, I got a bad feeling, and then he started loudly and carelessly killing guards with dunamancy (Veth shot first but still holy shit Caleb bad idea bud). Beau was brutal but at least she tried to be quiet. I think Caleb being reckless is whats really going to bite them in the ass. I also do not think the veils are worth it. They’re already being tracked and I just don’t think the risk is going to be worth the inevitable consequences. I definitely think they made a rush decision without thinking too much about the risk, and they’ll be paying for it sooner or later. I also definitely think Marisha was right, they needed better communication. This would have been very different if Caleb and Beau switched places and Veth had made them invisible. Not to mention, this could have major political implications for both the dynasty and the cobalt soul. 

If they make it out of this alive and hopefully end up in Nicodranas, the group is going to have to have a talk, not just about what the fuck happened but also about Caleb. Jester was obviously upset seeing Caleb like that, and Beau is supposed to be holding him accountable but he seemed pretty sure about her being in the outside group, which I find kind of fishy. Not to mention the possible moral dilemmas if they make some sort of deal with Trent. It’s a mess, not a hopeless mess, but a mess. 

Can’t wait to see how i plays out, hopefully Campaign 3 is not too close yet.  

[i-was-bored-so-this-happened]

Rae Watches Torchwood

Children Of Earth Day Five

Thought I’d just go ahead and watch it, @nowhere-dawn-death-phan

Spoilers. Obviously

Love how the thumbnail for this episode is Gwen and Rhys carrying kids and legging it away from soldiers

Yeah, about the Doctor, was Children Of Earth never mentioned in Doctor Who? Ever?

Okay, real talk for a second. I miss the Weevils. I miss the Hub and Cardiff. I know this is Torchwood, but sometimes it doesn’t feel like it. It’s more Movie than TV Show

God, this message from the Prime Minister reminds me of our Prime Minister and schools and covid and no thank youuu

Does Rhiannon know Ianto’s dead?

Good on you, Rhiannon

“What’s so different about us?” you’re politician’s kids in a fancy house that go to a “good” school, you’re being shielded

Yes, the government is incapable of handling crises

And they’re blackmailing the soldiers

BAM VOMITING ALIEN, WHY DOES IT DO THAT???

I got distracted, they’re talking about the kids as chemicals???

The kids are like drugs to them, and now all I can think about is that alien that fucked people to death in 1x02

Okay, the news clips are a bit....close to home to what’s going on right now in the UK. Uhhhh

I’m going to say it one more time. STOP WITH THE ZOOMED IN NEWS LADY

Okay. Where is Ianto’s body? Seriously, I want to know Is it still in that school gym hall?

Ianto Jones making me cry at the very mention of his name? It’s more likely than you think

Okay. Slightly confused. Gwen and Rhys get to go home. They’re arresting Jack? Okay. I’m saying okay a lot. I was talking to someone, I missed a bit

Alice? Alice, your face is like, frozen

Fake inoculation? Okay

They’re going to give Peter Capaldi’s kids away anyway? 

Oh, so now your kids are in danger you want to tell the truth? You were alright with everyone’s else’s kids being taken

Sorry, I have a lot of thoughts about the politicians in this show [also real life but that’s another story]

“They’re just girls” yes, like all the other girls you’re willing to sacrifice

Okay, I’ll shut up about the politicians now

Last thing! Okay. Do feel kinda sorry? Because he was told they would be safe and now they’re not. Kinda hope he does go on to expose the government like Torchwood were going to though

Because he didn’t really have much choice in any of this, did he. It’s not his fault

ANDY’S HERE! HELL YEAH, ANDY

“Bloody hell fire. Who’s the father?”

Oh jeez oh no. Please don’t have an argument about abortion right now

Break for lunch

I’m back!

Is Bridget Spears going to break Lois out of prison?

Achievement Unlocked: Backstory

Oh shit

Good on Rhiannon and Johnny though

Good on that one teacher that’s asking questions and trying to protect the kids too

Gwen, you’ve fucked up mentioning Ianto’s dad

Evil lady do be breaking Jack out of jail though

Holy shit, they’re taking bloody lorries in to cart the kids away from home

Rhys. Rhys, this is probably something you should tell Gwen about

"We’re playing spies” that just hurt my heart a bit, my god they’re such tiny beans

Johnny Assembling the Avengers

This is bloody terrifying to me, honestly

YES, ANDY

Honestly though, when you tell kids to be as quiet as mice they just start squeaking

Alice. Alice, don’t let Steven out of your sight, they’ll take him

All these kids are being so cooperative

Bridget?

Ah shit they’re going to end up using Steven

What the fuck, someone told the soldiers where they were oh nooo

Oh no they left a little girl behind, she’s so scared

They only have little legs, they can’t run that fast

Ah beans, I’m crying again

Yes, Bridget, drag him

Aand, I’m crying again

If anyone wants me to make Rae Watches posts if/when I watch Miracle Day, let me know!

[amelia-pinches]

Days at Anubis

So here is the first one-shot

Majority of the ones I will write will be based off of @ron-stepupable‘s post (but also I will take requests. )

Warning: I’m not the best writer, and I haven’t written fanfiction since I was 13... so uhhhh take that as you want. 

AO3 

FF.net

based off of ron-stepupable: "Fabian having an efing backstory. Maybe some daddy issues so he can relate to the other boys (wow just realizing all the boys have daddy problems to some extent) like maybe just a distant father figure who's not really invested in his sons life. Idk but I want SOMETHING" Its set right after everyone finds out about Eddie being Sweetie's son, and Fabian tries to comfort him.

link to the post here: post/611405919847415808/things-i-wouldve-done-differently-in-hoa

Fabian stared at his roommate as he entered their shared room. Eddie was staring blankly at his computer with earbuds in his ears. He looked like he was crying heavily. There was a small frown on his lips; his hair was a dirty mess, and his eyes were bloodshot. 'He looks like hell' Fabian thought.

"Uh, mate...are you going to plug those in?" Fabian asked, breaking the silence.

Eddie, having been broken from his trance, looked up and stared at him in confusion. Fabian pointed to the end of the cord of his earbuds, which was laying on Eddie's lap.

"Oh. Uh...I, erm, don't need to... I have the music memorized, and, erm, can listen without actually listening.."

Fabian raised his brows at Eddie. Eddie sighed and bowed his head. He looked back up at Fabian, and mumbled, "Go ahead. Have your fun. Everyone else has."

Fabian chuckled and shook his head.

"I am not Jerome or Alfie. I'm not going to make fun of you for being sad...or for being 's son."

Eddie looked at Fabian in bewilderment. He just got him in such a vulnerable state, perfect for blackmail. All of his friends back home would have jumped at the chance to make fun of him. How come Fabian wasn't? Fabian offered him a weak smile. He understood what Eddie was going through as of late. .

"I'm serious. I know what it's like."

Eddie scowled, "Sure you do."

"I do," Fabian retorted, "and even if I didn't, I wouldn't make fun of you for being Sweetie's son. I have too many daddy issues of my own to make fun of someone else's."

Eddie furrowed his brows. He gave a low chuckle and tried to imagine exactly what daddy issues Fabian could have. Fabian was his father's dream kid. He was convinced that if Eric had the chance, he would trade Eddie for Fabian. Eddie rolled his eyes and whispered, "Sure, you do."

Fabian noticed the shift into the tense atmosphere. He knew that if he wanted to comfort Eddie, he would have to prove that he wasn't pitying him or playing him. Fabian shyly spoke up as he sat on his bed, "My dad hates how nerdy I am. He says it's too feminine. All he has ever wanted was a son that could kick a football without falling or getting nervous"

This caught Eddie's attention. He took out his earbuds, despite no sound coming through them at all, and looked at his roommate. Fabian was biting his cheek, hoping he didn't say the wrong thing. Eddie gave a low chuckle.

"Sounds like a dick."

"Aren't all dads? Sometimes they despise their sons because they aren't athletic enough, and sometimes they are the headmasters of prestigious British boarding schools."

"Bro…," Eddie snorted, "did you just make a joke?"

"It's been known to happen," replied Fabian in a monotone voice, "But, erm, bro...if you do need anyone to talk to, I am always here. After all, it's not like I can go anywhere."

Eddie smirked. He considered talking to Fabian; right now, he needed someone to talk to. However, could he really talk to Fabian? Would Fabian really care, or is he just saying it to be a good roommate.

"Thanks. I'll take you up on that offer after 10 and before you go on your little midnight adventure, so that way I can assure you won't leave. Just promise me you won't say 'bro' again."

Fabian rolled his eyes. Eddie was so much like Patricia in the sense they both wouldn't open up for the life of them. He turned to look at Eddie. Eddie looked less hopeless as before, but he definitely looked like he needed someone.

"The teasing will stop soon. You're cool, so most people will forget about this in a week. If not, they will be too scared of Patricia to continue."

Eddie tensed at the mention of Patricia. It was her fault he was in this position. Well, it was an accident, but she should have been more careful. Eddie mumbled in a low voice, hoping Fabian wouldn't hear.

"Patricia is the reason I'm in this situation. She'll probably egg them on."

Fabian gazed at Eddie. He felt bad for him. He knew Patricia never meant for this to happen, and she would have kept Eddie's secrets to her grave. But he also knew how it felt to be a target.

"You know…," started Fabian, "When I first came to this school, I was bullied a lot…"

Fabian sighed as he lowered his head and ran his fingers through his hair. Was he really about to tell his roommate about his traumatic early school days? He didn't think he had a choice.

"They used to call me names, and I would get pushed around a lot. Once, I was walking to the library, and these kids came up behind me. They shoved me in a locker, and I was there all night...I thought that if I tried sports, they would stop, and well, my dad would be proud of me. So that's what I did. I went to the football tryouts, and I did horribly. The bullying got worse, and my dad was pissed at me-"

"Shit, dude, I-I-I'm sorry-"

"I'm not finished...I thought I was done for, but my old roommate, Mick, found out about what was going on, and he was so angry. He couldn't believe that his teammates would be so cruel, and he couldn't believe none of the teachers did anything. To their defense, I don't think they noticed. Therefore, he wanted to take revenge in his own hands, and consequently, everyone in the school found out. I was so embarrassed, and I was terrified everyone was going to think I was a pussy or something-"

Fabian put his finger up to shut Eddie up before he could interrupt again. Eddie laughed quietly, and muttered, "Sorry, It's just weird to hear you say 'pussy'. It's weird to hear you cuss in general."

Fabian rolled his eyes, "Will you let me finish? After Mick's rampage, nobody bothered me again. Eventually, I started to make friends, and people respected me. I know how it feels when the whole school is against you. You feel like you can't trust anyone, and you feel so alone. You retreat into your head and anxiety takes over. You hate waking up in the morning, and you wish something would just save you. All you want is a shoulder to cry on, but you can't allow yourself to ask for help because you don't know their intentions… I don't want you to pity me because I was a loser. But I do want you to come to me. You obviously need someone to talk to right now…"

Fabian trailed off as he looked down. Eddie glanced over to Fabian as he digested what his roommate just told him. There was a pregnant pause between the two teenage boys. Neither knew what to say as the uncomfortable silence dragged on. Eddie spoke up in a quiet voice.

"I'm kinda glad everyone knows, ya feel? I wish it wasn't like this. But I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I don't have this nervous feeling of people finding out or saying the wrong thing. I guess I just wish people didn't...care as much. I like my dad as much as they do. That's why I did all those pranks against him. Well, one of the reasons, but that's not the point. I just wanted him to notice me. I wanted him to care about me. Hell, they know more about my father than I do. Sure, he is my biological father, but in no way is he my..actual father. He has been more of a father to the kids here than he has to me."

Fabian glared at the floor after Eddie's confession. "They care because it makes them feel better," comforted Fabian.

"Well yeah, who can miss the chance of fucking with the principals son?"

"No, I mean, when they pick on you, they deflect from their own issues. Look at Alfie. Last year, Alfie had to lie to his father and act like an entitled jackass just so he could get his father's approval. When he makes fun of you, he makes him feel better about his own asshole father. Everyone who goes to this school has some sort of issues with their parents. Even if their parents are straight out of a parenting textbook, they hold resentment towards them for sending them here. Nobody likes to talk about it, but we all know it."

"The UK is fucked up, man."

Fabian gave Eddie a confused look as Eddie silently laughed.

"The UK is fucked up? A-A-And America isn't?"

Eddie burst out laughing, and soon Fabian joined in. The two boys laughed loudly before dying down into a lull.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. America is pretty fucked up, but the UK is just as bad.. but you were wrong about one thing. You aren't a loser, dude. To be fair, you aren't as cool as me, but who can be as cool as me? Regardless, you are still kinda cool."

"Oi, fuck off, Eddie!"

Fabian threw his pillow at Eddie's head as Eddie was roaring. Both boys looked at each other for a moment before being interrupted by Victor's voice, "It is 10 o'clock! You have 5 minutes precisely, and then I want to hear a pin drop!"

Eddie looked over to Fabian. "Well, night. Try not to wake me up when you go off to play your midnight game of hopscotch," he said, emphasizing hopscotch with a faux English accent.

Fabian mumbled him a goodnight and laid down. His mind drifted to sibuna. He didn't know how they were going to finish these tasks, but he knew they would. They would have to; there was no choice. As he got up to leave, he looked towards Eddie, who was now sound asleep in his bed. 'Patricia has good taste," thought Fabian before he left his room and headed upstairs.

[gangrenados]

✔️ & ❌ : for X-Men ; Deadly Class ; MCU --- elaborate why woman! we wanna know the tea lol 👀)

Uhhhh I was gonna do it anyway lol 💓

Deadly Class:

✔️

•Saya Kuroki: Saya is one of my favorite characters for so many reasons: she's cool and strong, also doesn't fear to fight when the situation needs it.

But Saya can be pretty cold and distant, manipulative even. I guess it's a side effect of the harmful environment she grew up with.

•Willie: He was just an innocent kid in the wrong place. Willie tried really hard to appear tough, without fearing to pull the trigger but we all know that was lie.

He was much more than that, but King's Dominion consumed him before he could do anything to get free...

•Maria: Another victim (but all of them are, right?) I find her way of trying to have fun and forget about her horrible past intriguing, she's just trying to survive the day and not breakdown.

Maria is a sweet girl with a burning desire of running away from her hellish life and have some peace. I just adore her.

•Marcus: He has been through so much, the death of his parents, the abuse in the boys home and his time in the streets had made him what he is today a manipulative, pessimistic boy and with a lot of unsolved traumas that consumes his head in such a painful way.

But even with his twisted mind he tries to connect with others and have friends so he won't feel alone again, the sad thing is that he always end up pushing others away.

•Zenzele: My favorite of new bunch. She a literal angel, but hellish when pushed too far.

She just wants to have a good future for her parents and have a decent life without breaking the rules of God (which is ironic considering the place she's living) I think she's the most pure of them all.

❌

•Master Lin: That old man is just creating weapons without caring about his kids health (physically and mentally), he tortures them and puts them against each other.

Fuck! The test to pass to the other year is killing each other like if it was the hunger games, that man is a monster.

•Shabnam: That pig can choke. He's a little bitch with such low self-esteem that he makes people to stick to his side by blackmailing them or threats, it's pitiful.

Also, he claims that nobody cares about his sorry ass,but he will not hesitate to betray a friend when he can benefits from it.

I hope he dies.

•Petra: I don't hate her, I rather feel sorry for her, however I'm still bitter about Billy's death.

Petra was a lonely girl who was just trying to fill that void with friends, but her need of survive surpassed her in such a horrible way.

The days after the juniors finals she was a complete different person, trying to pass as one of the lagacies and completely losing herself, also I think she was off meds (if I'm not wrong, I think she was schizophrenic)

I am happy shad found some peace of mind with Helmut, I think it benefited her and made her more happy. It's sad that didn't last long :(

X-men:

✔️

•Peter: Peter is a carefree guy who just runs around wrecking havoc and avoiding responsibility, which is pretty harmful cuz he still have a teenage mindset when he's in his thirties.

But he's the first character I fell in love with, his personality and scenes were to good to not fall for him, but I'm sad he didn't grew as a person and that he didn't told Erik he was his son.

•Warren: He was so intriguing in the movies I couldn't help myself. The short screen time hooked into adopting this character.

It's heartbreaking all the horrible things he had to face just to suffer a gruesome death.

•Jean: She's a powerful girl ready to protect her loved ones, but at the same time is pretty broken because of it. It's interesting.

I like her personality and the way she's all smiley when her friends are near or when she's with Scott.

•Ororo: The old Ororo was my role model when I was a kid. I mean, this strong woman controlling the weather with glowing eyes while looking fabulous? Fuck I wanted to be like her even I didn't knew what the hell was going on!

She's strong, protective, witty, compassionate and so much more...yeah, I still want to be like her 🤷🏽‍♀️

❌

•Raven: She's a horrible person, she threw Kurt into a river when he just a baby, is a horrible mother, I mean, she really doesn't care about her kids.

Her movie version isn't like this, but I found her annoying, especially in Dark Phoenix; the only exception I have towards her is in First Class because her presence was important to the plot.

•Charles: I think he has his low and highs as the average person, but I find it extremely hard to accept that he has put the X-Men towards risky missions just to prove the humans that they were friendly and capable to bring in hand anytime they needed it.

Also hiding Jean's past was a horrible mistake, telling her about how she get to the mansion and what happened with her parents could have prevented a lost of unfortunate events.

MCU:

✔️

•Wanda: I found her story interesting, it's really sad when you finally know all the things this girl had to face, so much loss and so much pain had caused her mind to break.

But she let herself love and be loved, her relationship with Vision and Clint it's a prove of this. To not mention she's so powerful, that is slightly scary.

•Gotg: Yeah, I know this was supposed to be just one character, but I really love this family because that's what they are.

The story behind the guardians of the galaxy is heartwarming in my opinion, a bunch of outsiders finding safety and comfort in each other. They have trough so much, loss, pain, anger, but those things just had made them stronger and closer.

I love this family more than any other found family.

•Peter Parker/Miles Morales: They're both innocent kids who wanted to make a difference and that's pretty cool.

I love them both, they're personality is so bright that you're happy when they're happy on screen...it's crazy.

❌

•Thor: Thor is strong, humble and positive. I don't hate him by any means, I find him rather cute, but there's something about him that just doesn't sit right with me.

Maybe it's because he can be so happy go lucky with everything and everyone, a trait that it's really nice to have ,but let's be real a person whose like that all the time will explode in the worst way possible when everything crumbles...

•Carol Danvers: She's just meh for me, not great, not bad just meh.

Her personality was too cocky for me, in a way that it seemed that she was trying to appear better than anyone and I dislike people like that.

However, an scene I really liked was when she was with her bestfriend because to me it feel more natural, just two "friends" (cuz to me it seemed more than that ngl) finding each other again. I must say, it was really cute.

•Bruce Banner: For me he always was a crybaby, and I get it, being the Hulk must be hard, but there was so many times he was just being plain rude to others.

I'm happy he grew as a person, but I still don't like him that much

[exile-wrath]

Athanatosora told me that you (probably) took creative writing in college. Can you share your experiences with it?

@athanatosora you fucker how dare you make me remember this 

uhhh oh boy where do I begin. kay, well for one, I go to community college, and creative writing courses are open to anyone, not just english majors. I took intro, fiction writing, and poetry writing. It’s probably a different experience than a proper uni

students I encountered:

people looking for easy humanities credits

this one lady that enrolled by mistake but was really talented at writing and had great skill with placing the reader in the setting. her descriptions style was just so good. needed to work on her dialogue but I loved her stuff I think I still have some.

Aspiring Hollywood Scriptwriter White Guys who had like. decent ideas. awful execution. a workshop piece that reeked of misogyny and got eviscerated for it by one of my friends.

this dude that had a lazy drawl and whose writing made me go ??? bc  the main character of his workshop piece was all about exploring sexuality and I’m ace and literally everything about that piece went over my fucking head. it might have been the writing style. It was 50% the overwinded descriptions and 50% the completely unnecessary masturbation description. His writing reminded me of James Joyce and I hate James Joyce.

people like London and Casey who I both met in creative writing classes. AKA, serious writers that actually have sold their soul to the words. Their existence helped me get through. I still remember their workshop pieces because they were worth remembering.

People who were exploring writing as something new to do. Beginning baby writers whose work made me war flashback to when I first started writing. Their enthusiasm levels and talent levels varied per person but they weren’t terrible to be around bc they were honestly trying.

And then there was:

Me: passionate about writing as my future career and the one (1) thing I’m good at and like to do. At that point I’d been writing for 4-5 years. 

Intro to Creative Writing spent half the time on poetry and half on prose. It was. boring. We covered really basic things like point of view, description exercises, and... nothing that really stuck out. It was definitely more catered to students that had spent all their life writing essays and never writing for fun. I snoozed a lot because I knew everything that was being covered bc I’d been writing longer than most people in that class. It was barely engaging. It focused a lot more on the technical aspects of writing, and I just... found it really boring. 

About at some point in the semester, we started doing workshop pieces! Basically we would write a thing, pick a date to be workshopped, distribute copies to everyone the week before, and on the workshop day you got to sit quietly while people discussed your piece, what they liked, what stood out, what sort of meanings they picked up, critique they had, anything. 

Workshop was uhhhh a doozy. We had to write up 1 page critiques each of them? And a lot of the time I was left reading a workshop piece and having nothing to say because I couldn’t think of anything nice or substantial to say. Oh god I think I still have the google doc with all my written critiques 

some things from my critique document:

77 words on a bag is a bit... much 

Don’t ‘list’ actions like a grocery list, it gets boring.

The last paragraph, which the narrator drives off into the sunset, I thought felt off. It feels rushed, and even though he says he’s relieved, there’s not much to indicate it in his thoughts? Mention how it felt good to finally blow off steam. How nice to finally stop giving a fuck. What’s the significance of the song that starts playing over the radio? Maybe give us the one-two lines that resonate with the narrator as he feels free again. I don’t know the song, so I didn’t get what sort of impact it was supposed to have. 

W-what tense are you trying to use. The beginning paragraph is a confusing mess of past and present and like what. /overall the whole thing confuses me; why are they talking about things in a public setting where anyone could hear, why is this girl trying to indoctrinate this guy when she’s also trying to blackmail him, that doesn’t make sense, other than their clothing, what do they look like. I just have so many questions, and no answers??

Unfortunately the worldbuilding paragraph at the beginning felt almost like a crutch, explaining things rather than you trying to fit it into the story itself. 

Okay. Lot’s of description about things, clothes and place and such, I do admit. But it feels a bit excessive and almost poetic in the way that I just. Flop. //flops out

The key thing that’s missing here is the lack of plot. No conflict, no purpose to the characters. They’re just walking and blandly commenting on strange things that they pass by. What’s... the point?? There is none. I see none. My eyes roll to the back of my head, my head turns upside-down, my body inverts, because WHERE IS THE PLOOOOT. So yeah. Add a plot. Will 100% help.

If I had to be honest, the cringe was a bit strong here. You try to use strong imagery in order to get it across to the reader, yet it somewhat backfires. It’s incredibly detail-heavy, simply swamping us with details to build the scene, yet it’s way too much sensory detail. The plot is completely halted in order to simply build the scene. It was quite tedious to read.

Ao probably neglected to tell you that I screamed about writing crits A LOT. These are some of the Bad bits from my crit though. There were definitely really good pieces, but there were also the really “what did I do to deserve this” pieces.

Okay this post is getting long but ANYWAY Creative Writing class is a doozy. Don’t go in expecting that everyone will be at the same skill level. It was somewhat fun because of the people I met, but it was a lot of reading and writing in a certain way that the teacher wanted us to. They’re good, I think, for learning technical skills, but will barely help otherwise. Trying to write creatively for a class can be killer on inspiration levels though, because the moment I had to write for an assignment rather than my own enjoyment I regretted taking it.