#PARANOIA PITCH BLACK
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acovasonateag · 1 year ago
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PARANOIA PITCH BLACK
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raitou-otcha · 1 year ago
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personal opinion, i like to think that all spirits depending on what kind of spirits they are, have characteristics of what they do or how they became who they are now, ill take Jack Frost for example.
id like to think that he's somewhat shaking, because of how cold it is. (movie wise) he drowned to death and became a winter spirit, so shaking/quivering constantly or semi constantly does somewhat check out on how he could behave. i also might say that he just has a hard time breathing (because yes he did indeed drown to death)
he could also feel like he's warm during this quivering, hypothermia victims do end up having some article of clothing removed because their bodies are trying to make up for the fact that their body is failing and thus the body turns off its cold receptors to help the organs.
now about some others
do you think that Pitch Black (now semi book wise) is constantly paranoid? he did technically die as soon as he got possessed but lets ignore that for now. him being in a constant state of paranoia and fear would make up for how he behaves with the fearlings, lets say the fearlings right now aren't doing anything to Pitch, id say that he would be in a delusion and acting erratically.
he'd probably have some moments of lucidity but it would still be in a high paranoid situation just not as delusional.
but like
jack frost is neat, so is pitch.
they're my little guys :D
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pawzunyan · 2 years ago
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Things that make it so that i cannot sleep:
1. windows (blinds do nothing to alleviate my paranoia. I NEED blackout curtains.)
2. doors (bonus points if a hallway light is on and it shines thru the peephole + frame)
3. mirrors
4. anything that makes it so that i am not in complete pitch black darkness.
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neighbourscat · 1 month ago
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𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏 , nicholas alexander chavez
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THE LIFE-CHANGING EDIT.
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𓈒  ˙ ꪆৎ   ꣹  ۫  𖨂 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 . .. . celeb!nicholas c. X non-celeb!black!fem!reader || second person ( you, yours, you’re ) + lowercase intended.
+ synopsis. when watching horror movies with your boyfriend leaves you waking throughout the night, you resort to social media to distract you from your disturbing thoughts. scrolling and scrolling, you find yourself on the steamy side of tiktok; your boyfriend the face of this new era.
+ cw. brief description of horror documentary ( no specific title ). mature language! established relationship, painfully horny reader // somnophilia, unprotected sex, dirty talk, cock-warming for a bit, multiple orgasms + orgasm denial, creampie.
+ nali’s notes; pure filth. wordcount :: 2.6k+
+ to be played: back to sleep, chris brown. || alternative: p power, gunna ( no drake, ver ).
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THE LIFE-CHANGING EDIT.
you knew you shouldn’t have gave into your boyfriend’s request for a ‘horror movie’ night. it was the first night of october, so you figured why not ( and you regret that ). you prepared trays of snacks; anything you could find in the pantry: chocolate covered pretzels, leftover tostitos chips and spicy cheese dip — which you couldn’t eat at all, unfortunately. you couldn’t understand how your boyfriend could watch those scenes and continue to stuff his face. like the one with the human man meat-grinding another human man; breaking him down to bits and pieces in order to better dispose of him.
after the second and final movie, you told nicholas to lock up once more — your level of paranoia astronomical. there would be no recovering from those movies, especially not in the month of october — “no one is coming in here,” nicholas said for the fifth time, teasingly, crunching up the empty bag of tostitos. “you don’t know that,” you had said, peeking through the cozy throw blanket. you were sitting criss-crossed, nicholas’s pumpkin-blanket outlined around your face and body.
nicholas laughed to himself, licking at his salty fingers. you saw as he turned his back toward you and started for the kitchen to wash his hands — leaving you all alone in the living area. you tensed, scrunching your knees up to your chest and becoming a tight ball.
on any regular night — when your imagination wasn’t filled with slideshows of dismembered human bodies ( mostly children’s. you swore tv-people couldn’t show that shit on television, even if it was all makeup ) or a creature that melted people and used their gushy remains to grow in height, weight, and strength — you would have the window blinds snapped closed, leaving you and your boyfriend in pitch black darkness.
not tonight. fuck that.
after jumping into bed and diving under the blanket, you demanded your boyfriend to open the blinds — and to leave them wide open. you felt like a small girl again, needing her nightlight and closet doors firmly closed. the jackets that you and nicholas had hooked on the walls were also placed into the closet. the reason why they were out on the wall in the first place, was because there was no room in the closet. but nicholas made room — needing to shut your complaining.
you were in and out of sleep for the next four hours. twisting and turning, latching yourself onto nicholas’ arm or his torso, scrolling through instagram and tiktok; sending your close friends reels and responding to fan accounts of nicholas’ — but you straightened up a bit when an edit took over your screen.
without a second thought, without a slight consideration or hesitation — you hearted the video, added it to your favourites, saved the video to your phone, and commented an excessive amount of heart-eye emojis. and when you scrolled up . .. . you scrolled back down to rewatch the edit. you propped yourself onto an elbow, letting it play and play over and over again. and suddenly, the dark hadn’t been so scary anymore. you kept the volume down low, the lyrics of ‘p-power’ by gunna faint; as well as the moaning in the background.
you pulled your eyes from your phone screen, only for a second at the low sound of nicholas tugging the blanket up to his chest. he rolled onto his side and let out a low breath, the moonlight illuminating his features. you raked your fingers through his hair and with your other hand, you swiped over to view the profile and watched more edits of your boyfriend — finding that over thirty minutes had gone; thirty minutes of watching your boyfriend do his job ( hotly ).
nicholas turned onto his backside once again, pushing the blanket downward and away from his bare chest. his sleeping form was always . .. . too tempting not to feel a little tingling on your insides. nicholas liked sleeping with only his briefs on and no matter how normal that was, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander around; even more so after liking and saving all of those edits.
there was something about actually having him here beside you. there’s something in the way his body was ( so toned and muscular ) spread out on his side of the bed and the way his face is as calm as the waters of a lake during a summer evening, or maybe . .. . it was the little tent between his legs that his boxers revealed, that increased your body temperature.
turning off your phone, you felt bad for being turned on just by the way he looked when he was asleep . .. . perhaps it was the effect love had on you or it was just another kink or the velocity edits, you didn’t know yet, but the aching burn in your stomach didn’t stop you from cuddling up beside him.
you rested your head on his spread arm and snuggled your face into the crook of his neck. the familiar scent made you smile and, for a short moment, you thought you could stay like this. maybe this is what you needed; the warmth of his relaxed body calmed you for a while, but then . .. . your hand moved like it had a mind of its own.
you trailed your fingers along his collarbones and he hummed in his sleep, shifting a bit. he looked so . .. . so cute, you couldn’t stop yourself from travelling far south, to caress his chest and abdomen as softly as possible, trying not to wake him up. and in this very moment, you felt like the luckiest woman on the planet; touching on the man that millions were so very attracted to.
you felt every muscle of his abdomen, which made your bottom lip get trapped between your teeth, to prevent a sigh from leaving you. mindlessly, you scooched in closer — your hand needed to go further down, past his sharp v-line, but you weren’t sure. your hand itched for it. for him, but your mind wouldn’t allow it just yet.
and when the slightly lined abs flexed under your touch, you immediately checked his face, afraid that you might’ve woken him —
— but his closed eyes and steady breathing told you otherwise. so, your arm moved to his exposed thigh. his skin was warm, and as you caressed and fondled with his body, the sinful thought of taking his cock out and stroking him, made you press your thighs together. the moans that would fall from his soft lips and the way he’d buck his hips up begging for more, using your soft hand to chase and tip over the edge, only made your breathing heavier.
and the thought of his brown eyes on you as you gently kissed his fiery tip and pumped the rest of him drove you crazy, to say the least. you could picture it . .. . but you wanted to taste it even more; you wanted to feel him shiver as your mouth wrapped around him. you wanted his world to center around you, your name heavy on his tongue, viscous and filling his mouth like honey until he was drowning in a pool of ecstasy.
you wanted him to cup the sides of your head in his big hands — his fingers holding your braids together in a messy ponytail — and start thrusting himself into the slick warmth of your mouth, pathetically using your throat as his own personal fleshlight, the constant flow of his thick precum and your saliva leaking onto the bed sheets. you wanted to hear him groan deep within the pits of his chest . .. .
but you closed your eyes, restricting yourself to only imagine. your mind no longer filled with horrible images of bloody corpses, but of nicholas fucking himself up into your body over and over again — the crotch of your panties were damp and at this point, you hadn’t realized how your grip on his thigh had tightened or how the muscles rippling through his skin had stiffened.
“ . .. . get on top . ..” his sleepy voice, raspy and deep, rang in your ears and you snapped your head toward him, wide-eyed. the burn in your stomach ached even more at the sight of nicholas’ still closed eyes and messy brown hair. you pushed yourself up a bit, staring down at his face. you poked at his cheek and he rubbed his eyes with a groan. he gave his thighs a pat, at which you got the message: come, and straddled his waist without any question or trouble.
“i’m sorry . .. .” you apologized lowly, feeling guilty for being the reason he was no longer sound asleep. nicholas shook his head, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and answered quietly, “don’t be sorry, pretty.” and then, “take what you need,” nicholas said under his breath and the tone made your eyes fall heavy. “you can take me.”
you leaned in and pecked his cheek, but as you pulled away he chased after your lips with a soft pout. a slow, open-mouthed kiss was all it took for the sigh you’d been holding back to finally escape you and when it did, his grip on your hips tightened. his fingers dug and dug into your brown skin, his pulse thumping and pounding. nicholas moved you a smidge, just enough to have you sitting right over his bulge — and his legs trembled, “shhit .. .” breaking the kiss.
you found his mouth again. and as you kissed; his tongue delving between your lips, your hand slid to the grown arousal — his breath hitched as your hand brushed against his hardness through the thin fabric. and you dipped your hand passed the waistband — taking him out of the obstacle that the underwear was.
you gave a clean up and down pump of your hand and nicholas groaned lowly into your mouth. as you gave another and another, he ripped his lips away from yours and tilted his head back into the pillow, the heat and pressure of your hand too delicious. it was almost too much to bear.
his muscles tensed and his breathing became shallow and ragged. nicholas could feel the intensity and pleasure building within him with every stroke of your hand. “need’ta . .. .” he mumbled, his voice low and strained. “holy shitt-oh fuck.” nicholas bit down on his lower lip, eyelids fluttering shut. he needed to be inside of you. he needed to feel your body wrapped around him. he needed you like he needed to breathe.
and when he felt your hand no longer pumping, he opened his eyes — staring up at the ceiling. “wha-what happened?” he had asked, coming to lift up . .. . and his voice died to a scratchy whisper at the feeling of you lining him up between your pussy lips. you moved your wrist; rubbing him side to side, his tip kissing at your clit and just almost pushing into your slit, collecting your syrupy slick — shivers washed your spine.
if it wasn’t for his arms helping, you wouldn’t have started pushing down. nicholas guided your hips down and the sight of his cock disappearing within you was just as overwhelming as the feel of your ribbed walls. “oh. .. . fuckkk.” he groaned deeply, his nails digging into your flesh even harder — the tightness and warmth of you brought tears to his eyes. nicholas could barely keep himself from bucking up into you . .. . but he wanted you to set the pace. he wanted you in control.
“y-you’re squeezing,” he muttered cutely, in a breathless whisper.
you hadn’t realized how needy you were until nicholas was shifting underneath you, burying his cock to the hilt — you felt full all over. you resisted the urge to pound down on him for the sake of his still sleepy daze. your hands landed on his chest for support and you raised your hips slowly.
the wetness of your cunt was enough to slip him in and out with ease — smooth gliding and a wet little smack when you touched down — and soon, you picked the pace up, just enough to hear his deep, guttural moans. you rode him slowly, feeling his tip reach deep at this angle while he eyed you with a drowsy stare. nicholas was losing his mind, his eyes now practically rolling in the back of his head. nicholas released a sharp, low breath, staring up at you then, “you’re makin’ it so hard to keep still . ..”
“you don’t even know,” he said, gritting his teeth.
raising your hips, it took quite some effort to pull him out that far because he was so girthy. your walls were literally pulling at his cock as if you didn’t want to let him go. which you didn’t. you did it slowly, terribly slow, every millimetre had your pussy lips tracing another facet of him.
a breathy moan fell from your lips, which made nicholas force you faster down on him and you clenched, instantly. “let me do it . .. .” he pleaded — the wet, squelchy sounds that came from where your body met his, was quiet enough to indicate lazy, early morning sex between lovers, and the rhythm was not a particularly quick one, but one to make the burn in your stomach feel like it’ll soon be on fire.
“let me, baby.” as you were about to give attention to your clit, nicholas planted his feet into the mattress and snapped his hips up, hitting your g-stop instantly. a muffled cry filled the room and the sudden lack of energy made you fall over him. nicholas snaked both arms around your waist and pulled you in closer, holding you firmly against his chest. “nngh-! just like that!” you whined.
your body worked with his, chasing after release.
"f-fuck-nic, please.. ." your jaw clenched so hard, you thought you were moments away from breaking your teeth.
he wanted to kiss you so badly, but the position was too good and he loved seeing the way your lips formed a small ‘O’ with every few thrusts. “baby . .. . shit, i need you’ta cum.” it was his way of hinting that he was struggling and he hoped you would understand it. “want’cha’ta look at me when you cum .. . okay?”
you gave him an eager nod, holding onto his forearms; you felt his arms flex and strain with how fast he was ramming into you. you wanted to hold it in until he came with you, but nicholas got the pump just right — your breaths were short — and you were having trouble keeping your eyes on his. it didn’t take too much longer to have you thrashing and shivering and cunning so hard. he doesn’t stop then.
his heavy breaths got mixed with curses at the feeling of your walls clenching continuously. nicholas continued to move his cock in and out of you, digging and scratching deep — hitting the spots that he knows only his tip can touch. “cum again . .. .”
“need’a feel it again.” the moonlight and his sweat made him shine, highlighting the sharpness to his jaw, the tension in his arms as he lifted you up by an inch; a slight new angle. wet skin slapping was all that could overshadow your moans and pleas. but he could hear you; loud and clear. his attention was all on you.
you might have tried to say something but your incoherent mumbles weren't meant for him to understand. because of his desperate need to keep you tethered as him, he still does not stop. you're howling, and curling into him, and cunt frothing with an orgasm lost into the next.
“s-shhit, you feel so fucking good,” he mumbled, heaving a breathless sigh. nicholas slowed his hips then; your pussy clenched so hard, so tight, that he could barely move. your clit screamed with the beating and thudding of your heart, loud in your ears and blocking the harsh cries and breathy gasps tearing from your throat.
stifled cries tickled nicholas’ neck, one hand holding your head, you trembled with your nails clawing in his shoulders for strength. he jerked up and gripped your ass tightly, but instead of forcing you to your limits till he came in you, he stilled himself — just sitting inside of you like this burned . .. . so good. nicholas had never felt so close to you, so intimately connected. he could lose himself in you forever.
nicholas was right there, quiet moans escaping him as more time passed. but it was evident that he was still holding out — you could feel his cock twitching. your hands cupped his cheeks, your fingers gently scratching the back of his ears. “why are you torturin’ yourself? hmm?” you asked softly, resting your forehead against his.
he came harder when he denied himself. “th’ build up.” it came out quiet and short and he knew if he stayed like this that he wouldn’t last much longer. “cum, baby . .. .” you pleaded, “please .. .” you squeezed him in just the right way that his chest was rising and falling rapidly. and then he couldn’t hold it in anymore — he was where he wanted to be.
“holy fuck-i’m gonna cum.” his voice was desperate.
the plastic band holding him back from his orgasm snapped as he thrusted particularly deep, and he arched his back off of the bed — letting him reach just a little deeper, just enough to send him over the edge again, more curses spilled from his lips. white filled his vision, red hot pleasure searing his body from head to toe, and you kissed him through it.
you knew you could fall asleep now.
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yandere-daydreams · 11 months ago
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Title: Nursle.
Pairing: Yandere!Gojo Satoru x Reader (JJK).
Word Count: 3.4k.
TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Mentions of Pregnancy, Implied Stalking, Unprotected Sex, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Lactation, Slight Breeding Kinks, Daddy Kinks, Mentions of Abusive Relationships, and Age Gaps (Gojo is 20, Reader is 35+).
[Part Two] [Part Three]
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A few days into the new school year, you decided that Gojo Satoru could not be Fushiguro Megumi’s primary guardian, despite what the paperwork filed by the former claimed. Honestly, the fact that Megumi’s name had been misspelled in every conceivable way across the aforementioned paperwork should’ve been enough to make that clear, but after a decade of teaching, you’d learned to pick up on the smaller signs; a certain discomfort that passed through Megumi's expression whenever you asked about his homelife, the lapse before a half-hearted answer whenever you posed a question to Satoru as to Megumi's preferences. It didn’t necessarily mean anything bad was going on, just that something was going on - something you couldn’t ignore, not completely.
Four weeks into the new school year, you decided that Fushiguro Megumi did not like Gojo Satoru. All your students were at the age where they were suddenly eager to distance themselves from any adult they could call an authority, but Megumi was the only one still in your classroom hours after the school day ended, the only one who stayed for as long as you could afford to let him. Sometimes, Satoru would make an appearance, loiter outside of your classroom or pass time with the best attempts at small talk someone nearly two decades your junior could make, but Megumi made a habit of ignoring him and try as you might, you'd never had the heart to be very strict with your students. The only days he didn’t stay to help you (as much as a nine year old could help anyone do anything) were the days when his sister was free to pick him up and, much to your relief, Satoru was nowhere to be found.
Two months into the new school year, you found yourself on the doorstep of Gojo Satoru’s listed address which, notably, was not the dingy flat you’d dropped off Megumi in front of whenever he stayed too late to justify letting him walk home alone. Instead, you gaped openly at the skyscraper in front of you, as tall as the eye could see and pouring out the kind of people you couldn’t help but want to get away from. You’d called ahead, let Satoru know you’d be making a home visit to discuss some of your concerns about Megumi, but for as long as he’d kept you on the phone, he’d never bothered to explain why he would ask you to meet him in a place like—
“You’re early, Miss (L/n).”
You stiffened, glanced over your shoulder to find Gojo Satoru – dressed in his usual plain, black uniform and unaccompanied by the student you’d come to discuss. He greeted you with a wide grin, a lazy nod, and you returned it with a purse-lipped smile and a tightened hold on the strap of your messenger bag. “Well, I’d hate to waste your time.” You toyed with the idea of meeting his eyes, but your gaze skirted over the pitch-black lenses of his sunglasses and settled firmly on the collar of his button-up. “And you don’t have to call me that. It makes you sound like one of my students and—” A slight pause, a nervous laugh. “I think you might be a little too old to blend in.”
Satoru’s grin only widened. With only your own paranoia as warning, he strung an arm through the crook of yours, dragging you towards the entrance of his looming tower. “I think it’s got a nice ring to it, Miss.”
Something sharp pricked at the back of your throat.
In hindsight, it might’ve been easier to do this with the nine year old.
You kept your teeth grit and your smile plastered on as he led you through the lobby – all shining crystal chandeliers and glistening marble floors – and hauled you into a gold-gilded elevator, the kind that would’ve let you know you were somewhere you didn’t belong under normal circumstances. You watched in stomach-knotting, heart-stopping terror as the numbers ticked up, up, up, until the mirrored doors were sliding open and you were stepping into the living room that could’ve swallowed your shoebox of an apartment whole. Your heels (blocked, low, practical – the only pair you’d found the strength to wear since coming back from your leave) clicked against the bare tile floor as you stumbled into the remarkably open space, his furniture sparse and largely utilitarian. You spotted one of Megumi’s drawings on a low coffee table, a pile of Tsumiki’s hairbands forgotten on an otherwise empty bookshelf, but any other signs of life were either nonexistent or exceptionally well-hidden. Any hope you had that Megumi and Satoru’s situation might’ve just been that of a young, overburdened guardian and his slow-to-warm ward evaporated immediately. Those of limited means tended not to live in penthouses that cost triple your annual salary in rent.
If Satoru noticed your growing anxiety, he didn’t seem to pay it any mind. With an exaggerated yawn, he strode past you and collapsed onto a leather couch – too pristine to have been recently visited by two hyperactive children. When you stalled near the entryway, he let his head lull to the side, his tinted glasses falling low on the bridge of his nose. “You don’t have to be shy. There’s plenty of room – not that I mind the view, if you really wanna stand.”
You took a deep breath and let it out in a long, labored exhale. He’s practically a kid, you reminded yourself. You could only be thankful you hadn’t gotten him a couple of years ago – otherwise, you’d be dealing with an actual child.
Reluctantly, you squared your shoulders and perched yourself on the far edge of the sofa. Satoru immediately closed the distance, draping his lanky arms over the back of the couch, his fingertips just barely brushing against your shoulder. You pulled your messenger bag into your lap, opening your mouth as you looked for Megumi’s file, but Satoru cut in before you could start your well-practiced monologue. “This is your first year at his school, right? I’d remember if I saw a teacher as pretty as you around campus.”
“It’s my first year back,” you corrected. “I’ve noticed Megumi very introverted for a boy his—”
“Let me guess – maternity leave?”
Your lips quirked into a tight frown. Fighting the urge to cross your arms over your stomach self-consciously, you sent him a withering look out of the corner of your eye. “I’d rather not talk about my personal life, if it’s all the same to you. Like I said, I’m not here to waste your time.”
Your tone was clipped, your voice strict, but Satoru’s only response was an airy chuckle, a careless grin. “I’m not in a rush,” he said. “But you’re probably eager to get back home to your baby girl. I know you try to spend time with her on weekends.”
This time, you didn’t try to breathe. Letting your bag fall back to your side, you moved to stand, but Satoru was quick to catch you by the wrist, to pull you back down with a single, playful jerk. Your bag fell off of your shoulder, hitting the floor and spilling open at your feet, but you didn’t reach for it. He was stronger than he looked, and you already knew everything you had to about strong young men with more power than they knew what to do with. “I’d really rather not talk about myself when Megumi is—”
“Can’t be easy, leaving her all alone like that. Did you ask your neighbor to babysit again, or was it that brat of a teenager you call up on weekends?” His hand fell to your thigh, and you immediately regretted wearing a dress, let alone one that ended well before the knee. You’d wanted this to seem causal, unintrusive, but as his fingertips bit into the plush of your thigh, you regretted not going straight to the police as soon as you noticed something strange. “Can’t be easy, not having a husband to dote on you and the little princess anymore.”
You keep your eyes on your feet, on one of the manilla folders spilling out of your bag. Megumi's name was scrawled messily across the upper right corner in red pen, because red was his favorite color and you knew he would see it every time he helped you organize paperwork for your other students. “I appreciate your concern, but we’ve managed to take care of ourselves.”
“I know.” He was close, too close. You could feel his breath, hot and humid, against the shell of your ear. “It’s just that I think I might just be able to take care of you a little better.”
“I think I should leave.” You spoke slowly, your tone flat, factual. Like you were talking to a child, or a dog, or worst of all – a man in monks' clothing, ready to worship at his own alter. “Before either of us does anything we might regret.”
Satoru let his lead lull forward, his fanged smile biting into the corner of your jaw.
You tried to bolt, but it was already too late.
It happened too quickly for you to process. One second, you were writhing in your own skin, your favorite student’s neglectful guardian pressed into your side and the next, you were on your back, splayed over the length of his couch, Satoru’s knee between your open legs and his hands on either side of your head. Your body reacted before your mind, trying to run, to resist, to get away from him, but Satoru’s hand was on your chest before you could so much as sit up, keeping you trapped underneath him without a trace of effort. “You can stop working so hard, momma.” His glasses had fallen away completely, revealing eyes as blinding as the cloudless sky and as unfeeling as raw ice. It was hard to remember why you’d ever thought a man like this could ever have anything to do with a boy as sweet as Megumi. “Daddy’s gonna take real good care of you.”
You shouldn’t have been so worried about the dress. It didn’t matter how long your skirt was, not when the cheap material fell apart so easily under his eager touch – your bra and panties discarded with just as little thought. You panicked, started to kick and shove and thrash, but his hands were already locked over your hips, keeping you pinned to the couch as he bent down and buried his face between your thighs. However young you’d thought he was, he must’ve been younger; his inexperience shining through in the overzealous way he nipped at the inside of your thighs, how hastily he laved the flat of his tongue over your slit. His pace was rough, his technique nonexistent, but you couldn’t remember the last time you had time to touch yourself, and you hadn’t slept with someone else since…
This time, when your mind went blank, you were the one willing away fractured thoughts and bitter memories. You didn’t want to acknowledge the twisted pleasure Satoru was forcing onto your body either, but it would’ve been impossible to ignore the way his teeth grazed over your clit as he wrapped his lips around the sensitive bud, to not hear the slick sound you just couldn’t seem to believe a part of you would make as he forced two fingers into your tight pussy. You threw your head back, clenched your eyes shut, but no amount of aversion could seem to block out his throaty laugh, to make the reverberations his deep voice sent pulsing through your cunt anything short of unbearable. “Needy little thing,” he muttered, pulling away just far enough to press a lingering kiss into the apex of your hip. “Bet he was neglecting you even before you ran off. Is that why you had to leave him? He didn’t know how to treat a pretty thing like you?”
You would’ve given anything to make him stop talking, but you didn’t have a chance to try and bargain. While his fingers pumped mercilessly into your pussy, his mouth pushed slow, wet kisses into the rounded curves of your stomach, your midriff, your chest. He noticed it before you did; saw the thin trail of thin, near-transparent fluid running down the curve of your chest before you felt the telltale soreness in your breasts, managed to draw a connection between that and the shallow, airy moan Satoru let out as he ran his tongue over your leaking nipple. He took long, agonizing seconds to lick up the spilled milk before his lips found the closest nipple and finally, he latched onto you properly.
He was worse than your newborn. It was an awful thing to think, it was a terrible thing to have to think, but it was true. He was rough, and clumsy, and noisy – groaning as he lapped and sucked, eager to swallow down anything you had to give. Drool seeped out of the corner of his mouth, whatever pain he might’ve alleviated immediately replaced as the fingertips of his free hand kneaded into your swollen tit. By the time he pulled away, he was panting, scissoring open your pussy with enough force to leave your toes curling, your thighs twitching, little involuntary whimpers slipping past your lips despite your best efforts to choke them back.
He didn’t so much earn your climax as drag it out of you, piece by fractured piece, broken moan by stuttering convulsion. Your hands shot to his head, fingers soon knotted through messy white hair, but he didn’t seem to care, didn’t seem to mind, his attention devoted entirely to spreading open your cunt and milking your chest dry even as the last of the aftershocks faded and the first pangs of overstimulation began to set in. When he did pull away from you, it was with an exaggerated smack of his lips, a teasing nudge of the heel of his palm against your clit, a cocky smirk that reminded you of the expression Megumi would sometimes draw onto his doodled stick figures as they were hit with simplistic, two-dimensional cars or torn apart by black and white wolves. That was something you’d meant to bring up during your conversation with Satoru – Megumi’s tendency towards more violent forms of creativity, how it could be an early sign of emotional unrest in children too young to properly express themselves. Now, you could only wonder why he didn’t draw Satoru more often.
You were barely conscious by the time he drew back working one arm under your back and another under the bend of your knees. You let your eyes fall shut and, by the time you found the strength to open them again, you were on your back, dark satin sheets underneath you and Satoru above, snowy hair providing a much-appreciated barrier between you and those terrible eyes. This time, you couldn’t stop yourself from meeting his prying gaze, and he welcomed your bleary stare, drinking you in for one second, then another, before dipping that much lower and slotting his lips against yours. The kiss was surprisingly gentle – all slow tenderness and delicate warmth. Your mind flitted back to dark eyes and pitch-black hair, pointed teeth and deceiving smiles and you willed yourself not to think at all.
You heard fabric shift, felt his hands curl around your thighs. With an aching sort of slowness, he pushed your knees into your chest, leaving you spread open and vulnerable below him. You felt the head of his cock press against your slick entrance, heard a raspy groan trickle past his lips as he thrust into you – bottoming out in the same stroke.
He didn’t wait for you to adjust to his size. With his face buried in the crook of your neck, he rutted into you with short, brutal thrusts; never pulling out of you entirely, never happy unless his cock was abusing the deepest pocket of your wet heat. Immediately, it was overwhelming – too much stimulation being forced onto you too quickly with too little preparation. Your hands fell to his back, your nails biting into his skin as he fucked into you with a jagged kind of desperation. His cock scraped against something soft and spongy inside of you and you cried out, arching against him. “I can’t— It hurts, Gojo, slow—”
“C’mon, baby, you can do better than that.” His voice was low, airy. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss into the corner of your jaw, rolled his hips and pressed himself that much deeper into you. “What’s my name? Who’s takin' care of you from now on?”
It was more an act of desperation than anything; a broken plea that you could barely recognize as your own voice. “Daddy,” you sobbed, shrinking against him. “Please, don’t cum insi—”
You were cut off by an unabashed moan, the feeling of his cock twitching inside of you. His hips pressed into yours, his thrusts growing shorter, more violent as he pumped something warm and awful into your pussy. At the same time, his thumb found your clit, pushing harsh circles into the vulnerable bundle of nerves and bringing your exhausted body to its second climax. Your vision burnt white as your cunt clenched around him, as his thrusts turned labored and languid, as collapsed against you – limp and boneless. Idly, almost lovingly, he nuzzled into the side of your neck, letting several seconds pass in silence before sighing, the pinnacle of satisfaction. Eventually, he picked himself up, resting his weight on his elbows as he cupped your face. “Pretty girl. I think the brat’s got a crush on you, too – always going on about his favorite teacher, telling me to keep my dirty hands away from you.” He laughed, shook his head. “Think he’ll be excited to have a younger sister?”
You didn’t answer, but Satoru didn’t need you to. He was already picking himself up, already pressing a kiss into the crook of your neck as he straightened his back, staring down at you with eyes that must’ve gone lifeless years ago. Eyes that, despite your best efforts to ignore their similarities, you couldn’t help but feel that you’d seen before.
“Speaking of, I think it’s about time we checked on our baby girl.”
~
Less than an hour later, you found yourself in your makeshift nursery; the corner of your bedroom occupied by a crib and a few shelves of miscellaneous supplies. You sat on the foot of your bed as Satoru held your daughter in his arms, rocking her as she sniffled and threatened to cry. You’d taken a taxi back to your apartment – called up and paid for by Satoru, of course. He’d given the driver your address before you so could so much as process where he was taking you, something you were currently choosing to ignore.
“She looks just like him.” His tone was light, his smile soft. He gestured to your daughter’s curly tufts of dark hair, her brown eyes – both only a shade away from black. “It’ll get worse as she grows up. He was always like that – couldn’t stand to let anyone else be the center of attention.”
You felt sick. Black spots still danced in the corners of your vision, and it took all your strength just to choke something coherent out. “He’ll never meet her. I’d die before I ever let him put his hands on my daughter.”
“I know, baby, I know.” He flashed you a grin, then turned back to your daughter. “I’m gonna keep both of you safe, be such a good daddy to both my pretty girls.” He pulled her that much closer to him, pressing a ginger kiss into her forehead. “You know, you really gotta open up more. I tried as hard as I could, but I don’t think I ever managed to catch her name.”
That made sense. You tended not to use it, when you could help it, when you were strong enough not to think about the man who’d given it to her – the man who’d tried to take yours, before you’d gotten away from him and and his monsters. You weren’t feeling very strong right now, though.
“Himari,” you mumbled, the sound of it alone still enough to steal the air out of your lungs, to leave the taste of blood heavy on your tongue.
“Geto Himari.”
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im-ovulating · 7 months ago
Note
I think Tate should pin reader to a wall and fuck her. W me deserve a treat this Halloween season, and slutty Tate is such a nice thing.
(A/n: I think that's the best idea you've had yet. Slutty Tate is really all I need in this life🫠)
(Forgive the writing rust, it's been a minute)
(Not proofread)
(Pretend it's still October for me, yeah?)
Word Count: 1,611
Summary- Run, baby, run.
Warnings: Chasing, Unprotected Sex
Age Rating: 18+ Minors DNI
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Tate Langdon x Fem! Reader: Run
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"Oh, my fucking god, Tate!" You screech as you use the banister to make a sharp turn. Tate thunders down the stairs after you in that stupid mask he found.
"C'mon~" He rasps out. "Don't you wanna play?~"
You round the kitchen island, circling it to keep distance between you. His vocal fry makes your cheeks burn; the innuendo in his phrasing doing nothing to help the heat.
"Don't -" You cut yourself off with a scream as Tate all but lunges around the island at you.
And you're running again, through the living room, past the home office, until you spot the basement door in your peripheral. You shoot off towards it, ripping the door open and sprinting down the stairs. You use the support pillars to your advantage, losing him in the maze that you call a basement.
You can hear his heavy steps as he taunts you. Boot clad feet clicking and echoing through the dark room.
"Y/n~" He singsongs. "Come out, come out wherever you are~"
His voice is muffled by the mask.
You slip around the last outcropped wall and plaster your back to the brick.
A shiver runs up your spine and the hair on the back of your neck stands on end as it suddenly goes deadly silent. The only sound in the damp room is your ragged breathing that gets poorly muffled by your hands.
Why did you think the basement was a good idea? You've done nothing but effectively trap yourself.
You're a sitting duck down here. Your best chance at escaping him is if you can manage to get back up the stairs and make a break for the front door. In theory, it's easy. The door is just a few paces to the right of the basement. But this is a ghost you're dealing with - nothing is that simple with him.
Nonetheless, once you steady your breathing, you start inching your way back to the steps.
Thank the gods you decided to put off putting your shoes on; your socks make your steps silent as you scoot around a corner. Your eyes adjusting to the pitch black does nothing to quell your paranoia; if anything, it merely heightens it. The knowledge that you could turn your head at any point at be face to face with your pursuer has your heart frantically beating against your ribs as if aching to smash through the bone. The quiet roars in your ears as you strain to hear even the slightest shuffle in the dark.
Wait-
No. That was your pulse in your ears...
'Where is he..?'
Every step you take feels like it's being watched like a hawk, and, at this point, you don't know if you're just psyching yourself out or not. Something moves in the corner of your eye, but when you whip around, you're met with nothing.
'This isn't funny anymore...' your mind unhelpfully supplies.
Taking a shuddering breath, you make up your mind and call out into the pitch.
"Tate? Please, this isn't fun anymo-"
A hand covers your mouth, an arm snaking across your stomach to drag you back. You thrash, desperately trying to rip the hand off. Your protests remain muffled as your captor pins you face-first to the nearest wall.
"Gotcha~" Tate quips, his breath fanning your neck. "Are you scared, baby?"
So, he ditched the mask... 'Finally,' you can't help but think.
You shake your head despite the answer being an obvious 'yes'. You can feel his cock pressing into your ass, getting harder with each passing second.
"No?" His hand slips from your mouth to your jaw, tilting your head back, "Liar."
With that, Tate slams his mouth to yours, hungry and not afraid to satiate himself.
You know it's wrong. That being hunted down and caught shouldn't make you feel this way, but it does. It does. It makes your tummy get all hot and fuzzy - makes your head cloudy and hazy.
And Tate knows it.
He knows this dirty little secret of yours and loves to entice it. Because, just as much as you love the chase, he loves the hunt.
The arm around you slides down until his hand can slip into your pants.
"Not only are you a liar -" he murmurs into the kiss, "- but you love that you're scared. I bet you're soaking through your panties, too, aren't ya?"
His fingers finally reach your folds, easily stroking you with all the slick that's shamefully accumulated. "Knew it~"
Tate breaks the kiss and pulls his hand out. Lifting his hand to your lips, he barely has to mutter out an 'open' before you're accepting the digits into your mouth.
You can feel his dark eyes boring into you as you suck your own juices from his fingers.
"Good girl..." His thumbs along your jaw with his free hand before pulling his digits from your mouth.
Tate turns you around and pins you to the wall once more before leaning down to kiss you again. It feels like he's devouring you; eager to eat you until there's nothing left for him to take. His tongue slips past your lips, tasting all you have to offer and still some. It's when he starts to work at your jeans that you pull away.
"Down here?" You ask, as you attempt to catch your breath. Tate makes that easier said than done by shifting to focus on your neck.
You can feel the shit-eating smirk that spreads against your neck as he mumbles out a "Why not? You had no problem soaking your panties down here."
He belts out a laugh at your offended gasp and as much as you want to snark back, you can't deny that he's right. So, instead, you huff out an "Asshole" as you relax against the wall. Wasting no time, Tate shoves your jeans down until you're able to kick them off; after unbuckling his own, he hikes your leg up and lines his cockhead with your entrance with an almost evil grin.
"Tate, don't you fucking dar-" You're cut off with a yelp as he shoves himself to the hilt with one motion.
"You love it," he grunts. And you do.
He pulls out to the tip before thrusting back in. Again and again, he builds up to a frenzied rhythm as the wet sounds of your arousal echo through the basement and all you can think is how glad you are that you're the only one home.
You can feel the staccato of your heartbeat as it mirrors his trusts.
You can barely breathe with how hard he's slamming into you, but he still has you all but clawing at his back, so it's not like you can complain. He isn't much better with how he's basically growling into your neck, sucking and biting a pattern into your skin as he fucks into you.
"How are you still so fucking tight?" He groans out, grinding his cock into you before pulling out. Tate flips you around once more before pushing back in.
Your cheek scrapes against the wall with a few trusts before you're able to get your palms against it. Using your new leverage, you start to press back, meeting him trust for thrust as he draws out grunts and groans from both of you.
The hot, wet slide of him in your cunt has your brain going empty of anything but Tate and the growing need to cum. You can feel the steady build up, the tension mounting in your muscles as he guides you closer and closer to the edge.
You're not even sure what sounds your making; all you can hear is the heavy breathing and growled curses that Tate is releasing. His hands snuck up to play with your tits at some point and with each tug and pinch, your back arches more and more as electricity starts to crackle in your veins.
"God, I'm close," you pant out. "Please, Tate..."
You feel the tip of his nose trail up your neck as he inhales your scent. "You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?" He mumbles once his lips meet the skin just below your ear.
He slips one of his hands back down to your clit, "Then cum."
With one last tug to the sensitive nerve, your vision blurs as you cry out his name. The static in your limbs shoots out, spreading through your fingers and toes and tosses your head back against his shoulder. You don't even register your legs going out until Tate's arm tightens around your waist, keeping you up as he chases his own release.
"Hold on, baby," He rasps, "Just hold on for me a little longer-"
The continued stimulation keeps your eyes shut as your forced to take what he gives. Any rhythm he had is gone as he pounds into your cunt like an animal; you could cry out in relief once you feel his hips start to stutter. And you do. As soon as you can feel the thick, hot ropes of his cum pump into you, the tears fall; the overstimulation makes your legs quiver, but ecstasy still hums in your veins.
You don't register the muttered praises Tate presses into your shoulder until your breathing evens out and your heart stops hammering in your ears. "You with me, Pretty?"
Nodding, you test your legs, finally taking the strain off of Tate, though his arm stays firmly locked around your waist. Blinking the remaining blurriness from your eyes, you turn your head to face him before getting pulled into a kiss.
"There she is," he whispers against your lips.
(3 years and I still don't know how to end smut🤪)
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sea-lanterns · 1 month ago
Text
A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET
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synopsis: (slasher! AU) the killer that haunts your dreams is real.
featuring: rosaria
rating: 18+ smut (men and minors dni)
warnings: sub! afab fem reader, dom character, character is a serial killer, mentions of blood, mentions of gore but nothing like that happens, rosaria has knives, dark humor, reader is a virg.in, slight degradation, knife play, predator and prey ki.nk, cunnilin.gus (reader recieving), biting, reader gets nicked accidentally, may be ooc.
art credits: tomie
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Perhaps it was the paranoia that was gnawing at your chest, but you felt as if someone was watching you from the dark corners of your room ever since you got into bed. For the past few nights or so, your dreams have been haunted by the same, shadowy woman that would chase you down in various parts of your town, waking you up just before she could get close enough to get her hands on you. Every night you would wake up drenched in a cold sweat, heart pounding with adrenaline as everything these dreams did made you feel as if you were living it in reality. You hadn’t gotten a decent night’s sleep in a while, the bags under your eyes prominent and worrying everyone you knew around you. 
Get therapy perhaps? No, no matter what everyone suggested, you knew this was more than simple nightmares and hallucinations. The woman felt real, she is real. The way she would hunt you down with a looming prescience, her tired smile haunting your visions while she dragged her blade-like gloves across the wall, emitting a painful screeching noise that would play on repeat whenever you started feeling anxious. This wasn’t good, you needed this to stop and you needed it to stop now. 
“I’m going insane…” you mumbled to yourself, laughing deliriously from the lack of sleep and staring at the ceiling of your room. Oh goodness, you were tired. You needed sleep but you knew that if you fell into dreamland, that woman would appear again and try to kill you. Every touch, every breath, she drew closer in your sleep, taunting you to close your eyes and let her ravish you in your dreams. 
“I can’t…” your eyes felt heavy, her smile a taunting reminder for you to close your eyes. “I…”
Close your eyes…
It felt as if she were whispering it into your ear, your consciousness on the edge of falling towards her. You wondered if you could do something about this, something that could stop her from tormenting you with her prescience. But alas, you found yourself feeling heavy, the ghostly hands caressing your cheek and drawing you in like an invisible invitation. 
You can’t…
Close your eyes…
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The curse you let out was violent. Angry. You wanted to punch yourself in the face for falling asleep so easily, trying to will yourself to wake up before the woman appeared again. As you looked up at your surroundings, you found yourself on the campus of your university, yet there was no one else around and it was pitch black dark outside.
You began walking along the path of your campus, feeling uncomfortable with being out in the open like this. You figured you should probably hide, but honestly it wasn’t like hiding was your best chance of survival. No matter where you ran or hid in your dreams, that damned shadowy woman would always find you. 
A memory of her appearance flashed before your eyes, her tall, looming figure casting her presence in your mind. Rosaria… you remembered her name. How she would purr it in your ear moments before she was about to strike. Rosaria… you wouldn’t dare forget it, her wicked smile stretching ear to ear like a cat toying with a mouse. 
You jolted when you thought you heard the screeching noise of metal against metal. Her claws. Oh how could you forget about her claws? They were the thing that frightened you the most about her. The way they would eerily scratch against the wall to warn you of her presence…
Speaking of her claws, you should probably move faster. It was getting to the point in your dreams where she would make her presence known.
You hurried off the sidewalk and into one of the buildings of your university, hoping you could survive until your brain eventually woke up. Your university looked and sounded eerie without anyone else inside the building, your footsteps echoing on the tiled floor as you kept a lookout for your killer. 
Everything felt straight out of a horror film, each moment of silence building up the suspense. You were surprised you didn’t wake up automatically due to your unusually high heart rate (or die of a heart attack). As you continued walking, you felt as if your footsteps were echoing a little louder than usual…
You stopped. Took one step forward, and the step ricocheted twice as loud through the walls. Another step. Another. You stopped again and felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You didn’t think she would find you so soon. 
Without turning around to see if she was actually there, you bolted. The footsteps behind you breaking into a sprint as well as panic began to settle into your nerves. How does she always find you so fast? You let out a cry and tried upping the pace, not bothering to look back. “Leave me alone!” You cried out desperately, tired of these endless nightmares where you felt like you were in a constant death cycle. 
Rosaria didn’t say anything, but you knew she could hear you. Your mind whirling with ways of how to escape from her and mapping out possible hiding spots. The boiler room… you figured you could hide in there, almost no one ever knows how to get down there except for you and the custodians. 
You took a sharp corner and ran to the door that had a Do Not Enter sign. So, like the rebellious woman that you were, you entered anyway. 
It was darker than usual in the basement. The cinder block walls were covered in a thick mildew that made you cover your nose with your sleeve. You forgot how musty it was in here, but nevertheless you found yourself a nice hidden corner to tuck yourself in and hide. You didn’t know when your body would finally wake up, when this nightmare would finally end. All you could do was sit there and wait, hoping morning came before that woman could find you… 
You recalled the first time you encountered her in your dreams. She had some pretty nasty scarring on her face that came from what looked like a burn, however underneath all that rough exterior, you could make out a beautiful face underneath. 
Damn. For a woman as insane as she was, she was still attractive for your tastes. You rested your head on the metal of some pipe, scrunching up your nose at the thought. Of course you had a thing for scary women, but honestly now was not the time to crush on your killer… 
You heard that high-pitched screeching noise of her metal claws dragging against the wall again, causing you to tense up. She was close. You held your breath and tried to make yourself appear as small as possible, shoving yourself deeper into the corner that you wedged yourself in. The handle of the basement door twisted open, its click reaching your ears and making you freeze in place.
How the hell did she find the hidden door?
The woman’s heavy, intimidating footsteps slowly roamed around the basement. A small hum leaving those cracked lips of hers as she got closer and closer. Well, you were trapped. With your back against the wall, you knew you had no place to run and squeezed your eyes shut.
Her footsteps suddenly stopped, but they sounded quite close to where you were hiding. This was it, this was how you would die. In your dreams, in your sleep, where no one will be able to figure out the real cause of your death in the real world. 
Cold metal lightly traced the bottom of your chin, making you let out a whimper. A small, strained chuckle left the woman in front of you, her face stretching into a grin at the sight of you.
“Open your eyes, girl.” Her voice was raspy and grated, it was like she hadn’t spoken in a long time. Her grip tensed a bit more around your chin, making you yelp pathetically for fear of her claws nicking you. She chuckled at the yelp, gently brushing your cheek with a claw and silently ushering you to obey. 
You did, slowly opening your eyes and focusing on the woman in front of you. Rosaria…
She was just how you remembered her. That same, sleazy smile plastered on her disfigured face, the burn marks and scars running over her skin but failing to hide her beauty. Your biggest fear was standing right in front of you, cupping your face in her hands (claws?) and having you knelt pathetically on the floor for her. You hated it. Hated how pathetic you looked, hated how she stared down at you like the victor of the hunt. She had you cornered so easily and you hated it. 
“You look like you want to bite my nose off.” Rosaria chuckled, gently poking your nose with the tip of her finger. She would pinch it if she could, if not for the knives she had on her fingers. “Like a cornered rat…”
You glared at her, as that nickname was uncalled for. However, it seems that Rosaria didn’t see it as a bad thing, as she continued “petting” your face and making your nerves dance under her fingers. 
“--and to think that I found you in the boiler room too. Don’t look so upset, rats are quite the intelligent creatures, and it took several dreams of chasing you to finally have you in my grasp.”
You gulped as her bladed fingers slowly traced over your cheek, over your lips, and then down your neck. Maybe you were just imagining it, but her eyes almost looked…intrigued. Watching the way a small lump of saliva went down your throat from how nervous you were, admiring the goosebumps on your skin as she traced a blade over the groove of your neck, almost like she was about to slit it. 
“You are surprisingly calm for a woman who has several knives to her neck.” Rosaria comments, finally making eye contact with you again and smiling. “Or perhaps, you’re too scared to say anything to me?’
Well what can you say? Please let me live? Fuck you for ruining my sleep schedule? It didn’t matter anyways, your last words would be heard from a serial killer that only existed in your dreams. There really was no point in talking to her. 
Your lips formed a thin line and you closed your eyes, admitting defeat and knowing when you had been bested. She won. She caught you and wore you down, your body too tired to even fight back after all these days. 
Rosaria simply stared back at you for a while, her face blank as she watched you submit yourself.
“...Silly girl.” she chuckles, licking her scratched up lips and tilting your chin up to look at her. “Are you waiting for me to slit your throat? Gouge out those pretty eyes perhaps? Murder you?” She let out another dry laugh, watching the tears in your eyes make your pupils appear all the more glossy. Gods above you were cute. Quite pathetic, but very, very cute to the killer. “You’d be fun to murder, but much more fun to keep around.”
“...H-Huh?” the word came out quite dumbly, almost instinctively from how tired you were. 
“Don’t get me wrong. I quite enjoy hunting pretty girls like you,” she ran a blade across your head, almost like a caress. “You scream, you cry, it’s adorable. But…I like you, little rat.”
She grinned again when you subtly pouted at her. She would have to keep calling you a rat more often. “You are very resistant, staying awake for as long as you can, drinking all those caffeinated energy drinks so you don’t fall asleep.”
“H-How did you–”
She cut you off before you could question her more, one of her blades moving dangerously quick to shut your lips. She was amused at how quickly you froze up, fear settling in as you were afraid she would cut your lips. “Hush now…” she murmurs, lowering her body a bit so that she is directly in front of you. “Don’t question things beyond your understanding, girl. Your cute brain will hurt too much.” 
She laughed as she belittled you, treating you as if you were some child. You gritted your teeth and wanted to say something back, but the blade on your lips was still there. “Listen…I know how desperately you wish to wake up, to get away from me…” 
She leaned in and purred into your ear, a shiver running down your back.
“So why don’t I help you?” 
You nearly jolted at the implications, your face feeling hot from how much adrenaline was rushing through your veins. Rosaria smiled at your fear, before clarifying herself. “I won’t kill, or harm you in any way. To wake up from my dreams, your heart rate must exceed a certain amount, yes? Then your body will wake up on its own…”
Your breath hitched when you suddenly felt another set of blades trail down your stomach, her other hand making its way to your nether regions. 
“I can accelerate your heart rate in another way.”
Before you could ask her what she meant, she suddenly moved closer to you, her lips dangerously close to yours. A gasp left your lips, having never been so close to your killer before. She was even more attractive up close, every scar and burn on her face simply adding to her horrifying beauty. You couldn’t look away from her. 
“May I…?” she hummed. 
“What?”
“Kiss you.”
She was blunt with her answer, tracing your stomach under your shirt with a blade. “I promise you’ll feel even better than…” she laughed a little, “Say, getting killed.” 
Her humor was dark, but it was fitting for a woman like her. You wanted to say no at first, but the more you thought about it, the more you gazed upon her and her features, you felt a small part in the back of your mind say yes. 
“Okay…” you responded meekly, a bit hesitant but curious. Rosaria’s smile widened, pulling you so close your lips nearly brushed against her on the spot. “You’ll enjoy it.” 
She then pushed her lips against yours, the feeling bringing a burning feeling to your core. Her lips were dry and slightly cracked due to her scars, but even if it felt odd at first, you found yourself almost intrigued by the feeling. Her lips were warm. Somehow comforting in a way as she pushed you up against the wall and kissed you harder. 
Oh…how soft your lips were. Rosaria had long forgotten what soft, unscarred lips felt like. She wanted to touch them, kiss them, lick them, she was absolutely enamored by how sweet and plush they were. 
“Damn…you’re soft…” Rosaria murmured, her lips turning into a grin mid-kiss, before smushing them against you once more. “You might die of asphyxiation because of me instead…”
She chuckled at her dark jab of humor, before growling more hungrily into the kiss and wanting her tongue inside you. As you whimpered at how rough she was getting, you felt her hot tongue lick a stripe against your lips, seeking entry into your mouth. You obeyed, parting those lips she loved so much and allowing her to taste you from the inside. 
Rosaria loved the submission. Her eyes fluttering shut in pleasure while she groaned at the feeling of your tongue meekly pushing back. She parted away and licked the messy drool from the corner of your mouth, smirking at the absolutely dazed expression you gave her as it was clear this was your first time. “Never had another woman’s tongue in you before?” Rosaria hummed, gently tapping the outside of your cheek. “It’s okay, that means it’ll be easier to get your heart pumping twice as fast…”
She dove right back in for another kiss when you weren’t paying attention, dragging her blades down to your shorts. They were the thin kind, just comfortable sleeping shorts you often wore to bed, which made Rosaria all the more happier. “So thin and raunchy…I can’t believe you sleep in these every night.” She smiled and used the tip of her blades to tear the fabric with ease, the sound ripping through your ears and causing goosebumps to form on your thighs. Rosaria pulled away from you, licking her lips as the tatters of what used to be your shorts hung from your knees. 
The woman’s eyes narrowed upon your choice of underwear for the night. Simple, yet very cute cotton panties that barely covered your virgin cunt. She didn’t miss the way your arousal so shamelessly seeped through the fabric of the underwear, clearly turned on by what she was doing to you. “Ah…so wet, hm? Never realized you got all hot and bothered by serial killers?” She grinned at your embarrassment and pulled the elastic on the waistband with her finger. 
It seemed she was gauging how far the elastic would stretch before it inevitably snapped under the sharpness of her blade, enjoying the thrill of seeing more and more of your privates. 
“So pretty and hot.” Rosaria rasped, the growl in her throat prominent as she finally tore your panties to shreds. You let out a gasp and tensed at the sight of her finger blades so close to your cunt, dangerously close as something so sharp next to something so sensitive was making you scared. 
Scared…? Or aroused? You honestly had no idea as that small pulse of heat in your core was difficult to gauge. 
“Mmm…spread your legs for me, pretty girl,” Rosaria hummed, ushering for you to lay on your back and prop yourself up using your arms. You were in such a vulnerable position, legs spread and stomach exposed, looking like a little rodent that had been ensnared under the claws of the carnivore. “Have you ever been eaten out?” 
Your eyes widened and you shook your head no, having only seen that sort of thing in pornos and 18+ films. Rosaria smirked and suddenly got down on her knees in front of you, opening her scarred lips and extending her tongue out almost teasingly. “Well, you’re about to experience it now.” 
She grabbed your hips, ensuring you wouldn’t squirm away –which was pointless because you had nowhere to squirm to– and caged you underneath her mouth. It really did feel like you were about to be eaten by a predator, the way she so hungrily drooled at the sight of you twitching so needily. After savoring the sight of you for a few more moments, Rosaria was finally ready, letting out an almost animalistic growl and licking up your inner thighs.
Just like the rest of her, her tongue was quite rough. Except it wasn’t as uncomfortable as you thought, her rough tongue slowly inching its way to the delicate muscle of your clit, making you arch your back a little. “Mm…down.” Rosaria commanded firmly, making your back hit the floor again as she licked small ministrations getting closer to your heat. With each lick, each hot breath from her mouth, you felt your pussy throb with need, a choked gasp leaving your throat. 
Rosaria smiled to herself at how desperate you looked, having successfully gotten you to submit and feel the pleasures she had to offer you. She took one last look at your pathetically lustful face, before focusing on her next target; your clit. 
She leaned in and finally placed her tongue on your swollen clit, making you jolt and whine at the sensation. Rosaria had to hold you down again, groaning and getting impatient with you for being so jumpy. “Down.” She growled again, gently nipping at your clit as punishment for disobeying her orders. 
You cried out, legs shaky from the stimulation that Rosaria was giving you. She went down again, slowly licking long stripes across your clit before wrapping her lips around it and sucking. Though the noises she was making were raunchy and embarrassing for you, you couldn’t deny the satisfaction she gave you whenever she paid attention to the areas you needed the most. 
Your body heat only rose more as Rosaria traced her tongue more over your folds, sliding the tip in between them and making your heart rate spike. The more gasps and whines you let out, the more Rosaria slobbered over your cunt, getting hungrier and hungrier for your orgasm. 
“Oh…shit.” Rosaria grumbled to herself, slotting her tongue deeper and getting drunk on the taste. “You taste really good…” 
Her tongue continued to make wet slurping sounds, trying to draw you closer to your orgasm. You had never gotten wet or orgasmed before in your life, so to have your virginity taken by a nightmarish serial killer was almost pathetic when you put it into words–
Oh, but what the hell. She felt so good and you couldn’t bring it in yourself to be mad anymore. Your hands made their way to Rosaria’s hair and tangled into her wine-colored hair, tugging on them and bringing her closer to your cunt. She let out an almost breathless sigh at that, smushing more of her face into your thighs. 
“Didn’t think you had it in you to do that to me.” She groaned, enjoying the way you grabbed onto her short hair. “You have guts I’ll give you that.” 
She let you hold onto her like a lifeline, pushing her tongue further and watching you cry out in ecstasy. You didn’t think her mouth would feel so good, and Rosaria didn’t think your pussy would taste this good. Both of you were entangled in a world of pleasure with each other, your whines further spurring Rosaria on and making her want to see you orgasm for the first time. You felt your body getting close, your heart pumping wildly in your chest and making you feel as if you were about to burst. 
“Coming so soon…?” Rosaria hummed, that same sleazy smile stretching on her lips. “Quite pathetic, but it’s adorable.” 
You would normally have something snarky to quip back at her, but the only thing that left your lips was a half-strangled moan. She continued pushing you, edging you with her tongue as she brushed over your entrance with those scarred lips of hers. This, combined with the sensation of her thick tongue maneuvering deep inside you was enough to make you see white. Your walls tightened and your thighs instinctively clamped around Rosaria’s face, causing one of her claws to accidentally nick you in the process.
It didn’t hurt, if anything it felt more like a paper cut, but Rosaria was so stunned by your reaction that she didn’t expect you to suddenly orgasm on her tongue. A loud, needy whine escaping your throat and making her own pussy throb at how much you enjoyed her. As your hot cum spilled out onto Rosaria’s face for the very first time, your heart rate had accelerated at speeds that you didn’t even feel when being chased by Rosaria previously. 
You felt your body go numb from the aftershocks of your very first orgasm, the dreamy world around you starting to fade. 
“Good girl…” Rosaria said under her breath, kissing your clit for the last time, before you closed your eyes. “Next time wear some sexier panties the next time you go to sleep.”
You blacked out after that. 
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You jolted from your bed, covered in sweat and with your heart hammering in your chest. Your breathing was unsteady and you felt like you had gone on the wildest roller coaster in your life, the adrenaline still coursing through your bloodstream from the aftermath of what occurred in your dream. 
The cracks of daylight began to seep in through your bedroom window, telling you that you had slept through the night and that it was now morning. The world of reality suddenly didn’t feel too real to you anymore, and you wondered if the dream was a genuine dream that you had, or if it really was the ghost of Rosaria haunting your nightmares again. 
A dull ache made itself known to you between your legs, causing you to wince. As you moved the blankets off of you, you were shocked to see the absolute mess you had left on your sheets; a giant wet spot which formed at where your pussy was, and tatters of your shorts and underwear left scattered around your bed. However, what shocked you most of all, was the small line of red that you saw on the outer part of your thigh, a small trickle of blood that didn’t hurt, nor did you feel when you went back to reality. 
If the mark was anything to go by, you knew that these dreams were definitely real, and that Rosaria was real too if this was the case. You gently traced the red mark with your finger, but didn’t make an effort to clean it up, too distracted with your own thoughts to think straight. 
Slowly, you slide out of bed, but not before looking at the can of a half drunken energy drink sitting on your nightstand. 
You looked at the drink, sloshed the liquid inside it to see how much was in it, before throwing it out in the bin. 
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lilacxquartz · 2 months ago
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A SIGHT FOR SORE EYES
part 1 of 3 • mahito x reader
summary: following an accident that destroyed your vision, you begin to suspect that your boyfriend, your caretaker, was actually replaced by an imposter.
tags/themes: body horror, psychological horror, reader insert, disturbing themes, dead dove, dark
ao3 • masterlist • more series • part 2 >
1. Fade Away
The accident itself came out of nowhere.
All you could remember was the squeal of the tires and the slamming force that threw you forward against the dashboard. The glass around you held for maybe a second before it collapsed and fell like sharp, near lethal snow.
Soon after, darkness followed, but not the slow pull of sleep or even death, but quite literally something pitch black and devoid of colour that crept into your vision, or lack of.
Before you knew it, the world was taken away from you and as was your remaining hope.
Essentially, you were left unable to see.
At least maybe temporarily, or so the doctors had otherwise claimed, feeding you a false sense of promise that the light could one day return. Days, maybe weeks all blurred together in perpetual darkness otherwise, so it didn’t take too long for your hope to fade.
The recommendation was to wear eyepatches over your eyes, or rather, a dual patch to both protect your eyes as they heal as well to hopefully make the gradual return of vision not feel so overwhelming.
You hated the things if you were honest; the very feel of them resting atop your eyes only served as a mocking reminder of just how easy it was to ruin the course of your life within mere seconds.
Your boyfriend however, as sweet as he was, tried to see you through it all. His calm and kind voice was the only consistent thing throughout your entire experience. He was always there to guide you when you couldn’t find your way—telling you it was all going to be okay—even if that word no longer made sense to you.
What was it… to be okay anymore?
Everyday, you looked forward to his calming voice and his gentle touch, except for when you didn’t; at least not anymore.
It was a subtle shift in the air, but something had changed.
When he walked into the room, something about his presence felt off. He greeted you the same way that he did before and the sound of his voice was familiar enough, but there was a different quality to it. It wasn’t wrong, at least not exactly, but something about the way he spoke had suddenly felt unnatural.
The way he touched you felt slightly… off, too. His touches were usually light against your skin; yet whoever this was, seemed to apply an uncomfortable amount of weight against you.
The scent in the room, the scent of his cologne that he wore was the exact same, although it was certainly faint, as though stale.
Maybe you were just going insane…?
It wasn’t that unlikely, you supposed. The trauma was life altering enough and after being in a loop of total darkness for the last couple of weeks, it was highly probable that the very last strings of your sanity were finally on their last threads. This whole thing was disorienting enough, since you essentially lost what you knew as the entire world in just a matter of minutes, so maybe it was the case of your senses being elevated a little too much.
It was a possibility, right?
Your mind was probably to blame, playing sneaky and cruel little tricks on you and feeding into the exhausting paranoia of losing one of your most vital senses.
The feeling however still persisted deep down. It was a creeping unease that would sink to the depths of your stomach and bubble away into poorly digested yet festering doubt every time he would reunite with you.
His laughter, while soft and familiar, now carried a hollow tone. His breath felt somehow hotter, his words felt almost… rehearsed. Your heightened remaining senses be damned; you knew it in the core of your very being that you weren’t crazy for picking up on such things.
It was the way his footsteps walked down a methodical path on his way to be with you. or how he hesitated to say your name, instead calling you sickly sweet nicknames that he had otherwise never before in his life used on you.
It was strange, but the company of someone you supposedly had loved for the last five years, had become almost foreign to you.
At one point, you reached for his hand while lying down next to him in bed and your fingers grazed against his, only for you to pull back away in an instant. His soft palms were now calloused and you could feel strange sorts of sutures line up his wrist in brushing retaliation.
You continued to try and drill in the idea that this had to have been all in your head out of desperate delusion, hoping, praying even, that it was the fault of the darkness for twisting everything into something so vile.
But still, that nagging feeling persisted. It wasn’t fear clouding your judgement; it was an innate warning to trust your gut to understand that something was actually terribly wrong.
You didn’t dare question him however, because after all, this person—whoever he actually was—was the only one who had fed you, bathed you and cared for you. How could it not be him? You kept telling yourself that it had to be because you were otherwise stumped on all other plausible explanations.
Whoever it was that tucked themselves away next to you in bed and idly traced haunting patterns in your skin was not the person you once knew.
It was absolutely, without a doubt, someone else.
Someone pretending to be him.
~~~
The doctors had been cautiously optimistic concerning your recovery; a phone call with the person who had initially treated you had revealed that while the accident had been devastating, your future might not be in ruins just yet. With time and provided that you were correctly taking the medicine that your boyfriend had been giving you, you should actually begin to heal.
There were signs to look out for in your returning vision; flickers of light, passing shadows and the like. They warned you that it might at times seem alarming, but it was all positive; a sign of healing, if you were lucky enough.
And much to your delight, you started to indeed notice hints of your vision returning after a while. Exercised moments without the eye patches would reveal partial sight in the form of colourful blurring patches manifesting within your view. It was something so little yet so hopeful, but you couldn’t help but cling to the fleeting glimpses of colour that painted your vision with almost elated anticipation.
Anything but constant darkness.
If you could at least see colour, even if it wasn’t so clear, then suddenly the future wasn’t as bleak as before.
Yet, every time you thought you were getting better, the progress would soon slip away every time he visited.
Just like the initial shift, it all started subtly. The brief casted moments of light would be stolen from you the second that he left the apartment, leaving you behind in a suddenly plunged black void and whenever you would mention this in a call to the doctors, they were simply perplexed. According to them, if you were seeing positive changes in your vision, then it should be improving—not deteriorating.
They told you that they would arrange for your partner to pick up a changed strain for the medication, hoping that an adjustment to your treatment should guide you in the correct direction.
But try as you might, the pattern continued to repeat itself, again and again.
You would heal and then the lights would go out.
You could have sworn that it was his doing somehow, even if the assigned blame was insane in its own right. With every touch from his tainted fingertips, he would somehow weaken you despite being otherwise gentle. It was so odd, because it was like he eluded poison from every stroke against the contours of your flesh.
You soon grew to fear contact with him as a result; dreading any sort of contact with the impostor who claimed to be your lover, lest he would damage you again. It was as though every time his fingertips brushed against your skin, he changed something about you and with every recurring visit, it only got worse.
You kept trying to talk to him about it, hoping that his once warm personality would return and tell you that you were wrong about your assumptions but you never got such comfort.
Again and again, you would ask him something of the same sort of variation, “I’m getting worse, aren’t I?”
But there would be no comfort that followed.
“Don’t be silly,” he would often taunt, almost, his words always so playful as they flicked off of his tongue with hidden venom. “Why would you feel worse, huh? That’s so funny to me, because you shouldn’t. I’m taking such good care of you, silly. You should be feeling better.”
His voice was soft when he spoke too, like smooth dripping honey against your weary ears. “Maybe you’ve got it all wrong, even. You’re feeling worse from me not being around. Don’t worry though, I’ll keep you running, safe and sound.”
His words were now more erratic, almost playful. He no longer carried the same patterns that your partner once did with his speech. You wanted nothing more than to pull away from this monster—because that’s what he must have been—to escape from him, to scream at him to leave you alone because how dare he pretend to be someone you loved?
And yet you didn’t.
You couldn’t.
Instead, you did nothing, resigning yourself to just sitting there, laying there as he would continue to purr falsely planted reassurances into your ears with promises that you prayed that he would not keep.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere,” he would say, “I’ll be right here, always. Watching every last bit of you unravel—I mean heal. We’re in this together, right? I’ll stay with you until there’s nothing left—I mean, until you’re fixed right up.”
You could only sigh and endure, the ache behind your eyes getting gradually worse, as if something was pushing and pulling inside of your skull somehow; messing around internally, poking and prodding in places that should have remained untouched.
It didn’t take long for your body to feel wrong, like it wasn’t put together correctly anymore.
Like it didn’t belong to you anymore.
You could have sworn that your skull was contorting under your skin, slowly twisting and waning through whatever pressure his passing touch would apply.
Sometimes, late at night (or what you assumed to be night), you would lie awake and feel things moving inside of you; slowly, and deliberately—as though something was crawling beneath your flesh.
And all you could do was just sit there.
Broken, blind and waiting for the next visit.
For the next time that this thing wearing your boyfriend’s persona would return and wrap its hands around your body once again, uttering sweet little lies while tearing you apart from the inside.
“It’s all gonna be okay,” he would murmur or rather, mock, “I’m here for you, after all.”
But it wasn’t going to be okay.
That much you did know.
In fact, you had a very good idea that nothing was ever going to be okay ever again.
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re-termination · 2 months ago
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✿ Fear not, Dear expendable
Platonic - Sebastian Solace x GN! Reader
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Notes- This was ripped directly from my Ao3, but I wasn't satisfied with how it was written, so here's the reworked version where sebastians' character feels more natural. The original was written before the friendly fire update and has since been taken down.
Word count: 1,736
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Door 45…
Door 46…
You were almost there. Almost there to Sebastian's makeshift shop. You were at your wits end and desperately needed a break before heading back to your main objective. Being down here worsened your paranoia. You most definitely didn't need a surprise attack from an angler right now.
So many injuries yet no med kit in sight. Hell, not even any data. You had dropped your backpack filled with data and your flashlight a couple of doors back because of some stupid void mass. “Stupid, how stupid this all is," you thought. Even if you made it to Sebastian's shop, you wouldn't even be able to afford a med kit.
Door 47… is pitch dark. Suddenly you were hyper aware of every sound. You weren't afraid of the dark, really, but coming here changed everything. There were monsters out to get you and you just couldn't afford a slip up. With your heartbeat accelerating and paranoia kicking up, you started walking slowly with your arms stretched out in front of you.
To say you were scared was an understatement. You would drop down onto the floor if it wasn't for the eerie sounds of the facility and faint screams from other expendables in rooms farther away from you. The idea of death and dying alone was starting to get to your head. You needed to walk faster.
You didn't care feeling around the room for drawers with data in them. You just needed to see some form of light again. But upon finding the door, you discovered a new problem. A keycard was needed to proceed. Just your luck, really. Turning around, you began to feel around for that damn keycard. It was too dark to see so naturally you tripped over a random electric cable and smacked your forehead against whatever was in front of you.
“Great, just great really.” The impact of the fall hurt your knees and face and boy did it take everything in you to not let a whimper of pain escape you. Now sporting new injuries, you slowly picked yourself up and touched whatever was in front of you. A desk! And would you look at that? It also has the keycard needed to proceed! Maybe your luck wasn't so bad after all. Keycard in hand, you traced back your steps and found the door to the next room once again.
And voila door…48. Another pitch black room. Yet again you couldn't see a damn thing and mentally scolded yourself for dropping your flashlight. Standing idle in fear wasn't going to do anything, so you trudged on.
Has the dark always been this frightening? When did it all go wrong anyway? You just wanted to see the light again. The sun's light. Everything down here seemed out to get you. Everything you couldn't see only scared you. You kept dying and coming back, even death didn't want you.
When will this all end…?
With your jumbled thoughts getting louder and louder you failed to realize there was something emerging from the wall. You just kept walking, in hopes of at least seeing the facility's lights again.
…Door 49
Whatever God was watching you must've been laughing. Yet again another dark room. Your breathing was getting more inconsistent. Your chest was starting to heart from the constant thumping of your heart and irregular breathing. You couldn't calm yourself down even if you tried harder.
You needed to pick up the pace. To get out of here.
With that you started dashing to find the door. Your footsteps are heavy but quick. You hear something but brush it off as the sound of your own footsteps. That thought quickly disappeared as soon as you heard something behind you. It sounded disgusting and almost liquidy. The sound of whatever was behind you made your stomach churn and you didn't dare to look back. Too horrified to think logically, you kept running, almost tripping on your own feet.
The room seemed so big. The idea of dying here was taking over most of your thoughts to the point of crying. To make this situation any worse, you could hear the screaming of Pinkie making its way to the room you were in.
Too dark to search for a locker and getting chased by two entities???
Run faster. Run faster.
You just needed to make it to Sebastian's shop to be safe right? Would he laugh at you for looking pathetic? You couldn't give a damn what he thought. Surely whatever remaining humanity he has can sympathize with you. Right?
“Need to stock up?”
Speaking of the devil! You never felt more glad to hear that fish bastard than now. You may dislike Sebastian, but you needed to get away from Pinkie and whatever the hell was chasing you.
With pained grunts, you crouched and quickly crawled through the vent. You could hear Pinkie advancing but what about that other thing?
“Ahh it's y-” Sebastian was quickly cut off when he saw you dashing to… hide behind him? You quickly duck down, close your eyes and cover your ears. Like clockwork, you feel the room shake a bit from Pinkie passing by.
Just as you were about to move from your spot, Sebastian held you down in your spot and covered your eyes with his 3rd hand. With that, you heard a gunshot. Your breath hitched and you started shaking again.
“What a mess” Sebastian grumbled as he put his shotgun away.
You came into his shop and even brought a wall dweller with you. Hell, you even made him use a bullet on a monster you could've easily scared off. He's going to let you have a piece of his mind. Or so he wanted to. He let go of you but you just clung onto him. This action made him flinch. He wasn't very fond of touch after all.
“Shaking like a leaf, how pathetic you are.” The audacity to even get near him knowing he could kill you at point blank.
He could never tell what was going on in your mind but right now, it was pretty clear what you were feeling. Here you were trembling with tears sliding down your face. And would you look at that you also managed to hurt yourself a good amount.
He wasn't sure what to do with you. But he guessed he could start off with helping you get all patched up. He could just leave you alone, but he wasn't that rude to customers like that didn't anger him.
“Hey ‘friend’, I'm going to help you out a bit alright. Free of charge may I add, but this is a one time thing!” You were unresponsive to him but he still took that as a ‘yes go ahead’. He gently lifted you up by your arms and sat you down on the desk next to him. Grabbing the medkit on his tail he quickly got to work.
-
“There. Good as new! You should really get going though.”
While Sebastian was patching you up, you calmed down a bit. He was too focused on helping you that he didn't realize you were staring at him the whole time. ‘Huh guess he's not that much of an asshole.’ In your fit of panic, you didn't realize Sebastian moved you from the spot that was behind him. Now you were sitting on a desk while he finished up cleaning up the materials he used to help you out.
Sebastian, while snarky at times, acknowledged what you were going through. He didn't want you to see what was following you, yet anyway, so he positioned himself to block your view from seeing the wall dweller corpse on the ground by the vent. Maybe he'll pick it up and see if other expendables will buy it since it seemed like they'd buy just about anything.
Right. You needed to thank him. You really wanted to thank him for helping you but couldn't get the words to come out of your mouth. Guess you're still in a bit of a daze.
Watching you struggle with trying to speak, he let out a heavy sigh. “Change of plans then.”
He moved into a better position to lay down but also block your view that was the vent to get into his shop. You'll see the horrors later so he'll spare you just this once.
“Listen friend, you can rest here. Don't worry about your gear detonating, you'll be fine.” He pointed to the scrambler on his back to answer the question you were about to ask.
Sebastian may tower over you and have the power to kill you, but he chooses to let you rest while he keeps guard over you. It feels so warm. You may have disliked Sebastian earlier, but now? Hm you'll ask him later about his actions towards you. Right now you really did need to rest. Not the most comfortable of places but you didn't want to ask Sebastian if he could accommodate you so you could rest easier.
-
“Out like a light.” He sighed. You didn't look very comfortable sleeping on top of a desk, but that's the best he could do for now. He hated when expendables touched or even got too close to him but he supposed he could make exceptions for others like you but at a hefty price, of course. Maybe once he's more comfortable in your presence, he'll let you rest against this tail.
As for what happened this run, Sebastian had his reasons to help you out there. A dead customer isn't very useful after all.
No, that's not it.
He helped you maybe because that look of fear on your face struck a distant memory from his past. Seeing you panic stricken like that wasn't something new, even to him. That expression on your face reminded him of the times he got experimented on for the first time.
With a shake of his head, he brought a claw up to your head and gently poked you. From this angle, he realized just how fragile a human can be.
After a bit of staring at you to make sure you were asleep he tugged on the esca on his head to turn off the light. He'll clean the mess in his shop later. Right now he'll just keep watch and make sure you sleep soundly.
“Stupid expendable.”
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cheegu3 · 8 months ago
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Door Lock
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pairing; f.m reader x jungkook (ft. ryujin from itzy) genre; yandere, thriller, guessing game summary; ever since you had an encounter with a creepy man at your job, you started waking up feeling like things were off, after some time you start suspecting that you're not alone at night in your apartment, but the man from your job isn't the only one with questionable motives, can you guess who your stalker is? warnings; yandere themes, stalking, obsessive / unhealthy love, drugging, swearing, drinking, paranoia
wc; 6k note; based on the movie Door Lock (although not all events are exactly the same) - I wanted to try writing smth a little different than usual
'' Do you want me to walk you home? ''
'' Oh, come on! '' you sighed and rolled your eyes. '' I'm not a kid, my apartment's just around the corner. ''
Your friend, Ryujin, didn't look very happy with your answer. Her lips pursed, causing a dissatisfied look to form on her face. She crossed her arms and shook her head.
'' You're always so stubborn. ''
Ryujin only received a shrug in response as you had already started turning away from her, making up your mind a long time ago. She'd always say these things after the two of you had a late night out drinking.
And she'd always get turned down by her friend who thought she worried too much. Every time, you would arrive safely at your apartment, without anyone even following you or giving you a glance.
'' It went fine last week, Ryujin. Nothing will happen to me, it never does. ''
She scoffed dryly, '' I swear one day you're going to regret saying that, y/n. ''
'' Maybe, but not today! '' you cheerfully shouted to her when you had created some distance.
'' Text me when you get home at least! ''
You waved her off. The walk home was short because Ryujin always chose restaurants or bars near your apartment. It was around the corner and up the long stairs.
You always complained loudly about the stairs. Arriving home drenched in sweat and panting wasn't exactly ideal. But it was by far the least horrid thing about the route to your apartment.
The reason your friend was worried every time you walked home alone was mainly because the hill had no lights; it was pitch black, except for small splotches of light that came from the hill houses' outdoor lights.
It also had no CCTV so if anyone were to try something in the dark, no one would likely notice.
However, you had long accepted it. It was almost a given when the rent was so cheap, and you couldn't complain about the view. Since it was at the top of the hill, it faced downtown and often had beautiful sunsets.
On this night there wasn't a sunset in sight because it had long passed. The city was asleep, with only cicadas echoing up the hill.
About halfway up, you stopped to squint. Was that someone standing at the top? No - you must've imagined it.
You kept walking but occasionally glanced at the top from time to time. What you thought you saw had disappeared and when you finally reached the spot it was in, you were fully convinced your mind had played tricks on you.
The security guard greeted you when he saw you entering the building. You gave him a curt nod and hurried on, desperate to sleep in the comfort of your bed.
At your door, something felt off. Your eyebrows knit together as you crouched to look at the keypad. Had you really forgotten to close it this morning? You could've sworn you did.
You pressed the code and then wiped the screen with the sleeve of your shirt. It soon became forgotten when you stepped inside your apartment. The alcohol seemed to have clouded your mind on top of your senses.
With a yawn, you flopped down on the bed and fell fast asleep without changing, brushing your teeth, or getting under the covers.
You woke up with a terrible headache pounding your head. A groan slipped past your dry lips as you forced yourself to get up. Your whole world started spinning and you had to sit down to ground yourself.
Bile rose in your throat. You ran to the bathroom and managed to open the seat just in time for last night's pleasures to come out.
You felt confused again. Was it age that was starting to creep up on you? You didn't get hangovers very often, no matter how much you drank.
Resting against the tile wall behind, you let the cold cool your scorching skin. You knew you still had to go to work since you couldn't risk getting fired.
Slowly you peeled yourself off from the wall and started heading out after getting dressed. It was still relatively dark out, the winter sun rising on the horizon, but it was nowhere near as terrifying as when going home in the complete dark at night. That was a different type of darkness, a lonely one, which seemed to bring out the worst kinds of people lurking in the dark.
At work, your nice colleague greeted you with her usual cheery smile. She whispered that she had covered for you being late so no one had noticed.
With a grateful smile, you sat down in your spot and got ready to meet customers. Lately, you had noticed that your colleagues who were extra nice; smiling and almost touching the customers, would have more people go to their booths; so today, you were determined to put on your best fake polite smile and maybe you could get a permanent contract.
'' Number 29, please come to booth 4. ''
You saw a man stir in the crowd, hesitating, which made you internally sigh. You hadn't been very lucky with your booth number, that was yet another reason your performance always got criticized by your boss.
Sternly you leaned over the mic again, '' Number 29, please come forward. ''
The man finally gave up and walked over. When he sat down he looked both nervous and slightly uncomfortable. However, your warm smile made him loosen up.
'' Welcome. How can I help you today? ''
'' I would like to create an account. ''
You nodded and typed in the information. While working, you noticed his eyes on you, so you decided to strike up some small talk.
'' You live in Seongnam too? ''
The man's eyes widened, '' Yes...Do you live there? ''
'' I do, '' you chuckled, looking him right in the eyes now.
The intimate eye contact, coupled with your smile made him blush visibly. He looked away. Silence filled the space as you finished the last few things and showed him the screen. You gave him some necessary information, before handing him back his ID.
'' Maybe we can go out for coffee sometime? '' he mumbled after you were done talking and were ready to call the next customer.
He was handsome, there was no denying that, and he was definitely your type, with a bad boy appearance. He reminded you of your manager that you'd been crushing on and the cute new security guard at your apartment.
But it was unprofessional and you felt rather creeped out to be asked on a date at your job, especially in such an upfront way after you talked about where you lived.
'' Sorry, I can't do that. I'm working right now. ''
The man's smile faded, his eyes darkened and narrowed as he tilted his head, like he was unsure if he'd heard you correctly. '' I can take you out after. ''
Staring at him speechless, you wondered if the shy act he'd put on earlier was just that - an act. The man in front of you now didn't show any signs of being shy, quiet, nervous, or polite. He screamed of danger.
'' I- ''
'' You fucking whore! '' he cut you off screaming and catching the attention of everyone in the bank.
'' You flirted with me first, '' he started to his feet and began banging on the protective shield.
You jumped back, heart in your throat as you stammered. You couldn't get out a single word.
He tried reaching his arm in through the small gap and managed to pull you towards the shield. A scream ripped from your throat.
'' Security! '' you heard your manager shout.
You felt your arm be released just a few seconds later and you pulled away, breathing heavily. Even as he was being escorted away he kept screaming the same things, and creepily never taking his eyes off of you.
Red marks had formed where you were grabbed and you groaned when rubbing them. In the corner of your eye, you saw your manager approach so you quickly tried putting your arm under the table.
He saw it and grabbed it before you could do so. With a disappointed tick of his tongue, he inspected it and then freed you.
'' What a crazy asshole. ''
The shock had slowly started dissipating, '' Thank you. ''
'' No need to thank me, just call on me whenever you need. ''
You smiled awkwardly and bowed. Your manager left and the rest of the day went smooth sailing. Midday, you went for lunch with your coworker and Ryujin but you had a strange feeling in your stomach, like you were being watched.
It gnawed inside you, making it impossible to eat again. You put down your chopsticks and went back to work. Thankfully, after that, the thought was forced to the back of your mind due to how busy it was. You were pretty successful during the afternoon; making many customers satisfied as well as your boss, so you walked out at the end of the day with a small smile playing on your lips, despite the incident during the early hours.
'' Hey. ''
You froze in your steps. That voice, it sounded a lot like the man from before. You turned around very slowly, praying that you'd been mistaken.
The color drained off of your face when you faced him, it had been like you thought. The man from earlier was standing there, leaning back against the bus stop with a shit-eating grin on his face.
'' You have no idea how long I've waited for you. ''
Words got stuck in your dry throat. Your eyes started searching for help, but no one was around. Meanwhile, you could see how the man had started stalking towards you.
'' Why aren't you responding? You rude bit- ''
His hand caught your wrist in that painfully strong grip again and you yelped, flinging your arms around to escape him which had no effect at all; he just pulled you towards him, whipped you around, and hugged you from behind.
Suddenly, the grip loosened and you were pushed out of the way, almost knocking you over. You raised your head slowly.
The man was caught in a chokehold by your manager and couldn't get a word out, despite trying very hard to when he saw you move in the background.
You stared back at him, but after a few seconds, your eyes started flicking towards your manager's back instead. The man seemed to be losing consciousness and you started to feel anxious; this much violence wasn't necessary at all.
Without a word, you pulled your manager's hands away from the man who fell to the ground clutching his throat and coughing weakly.
'' I'm okay, '' you blurted out when he turned to you with a puzzled, almost angry look.
His frown disappeared and he seemingly accepted your answer. You let yourself be led towards his car and got in as you felt like your manager was someone you could trust. He had saved you twice now after all.
The whole ride, he talked about self-defense techniques; urging you to go to classes in the city and telling you about different weapons you could use. He also told you firmly that he'd file a police report for harassment and stalking since it was his job as a manager to keep his employees safe.
You only half-heartedly listened, feeling more zoned out the closer you got to the apartment building. The long day had made you incredibly tired, causing you to look forward to just going to sleep.
'' Take this, '' he concluded the rant right when the car pulled into the parking lot.
'' What is it? ''
'' It's a small pocket knife. ''
You frowned, '' That's illegal. ''
'' So? You'll be sorry if you get attacked and don't have it. ''
You hesitated for another moment. He grabbed your wrist and put it into your hand, closing it as if to say there'd be no further protest about the matter.
With a sigh, you gave up. Your manager parked the car and stepped out at the same time you did. He watched you as you went towards the entrance with one hand propped up on the roof of the car.
'' Do you need a ride tomorrow? ''
'' I'll be fine. Thank you, again, for- everything. ''
'' No problem, always glad to help. ''
And with that, he got back in the car and started it just as you opened the entrance door. You basked in the warmth that embraced you as soon as you entered the lobby.
The security guard who usually sat at the desk was nowhere to be seen. A smile shot to your lips. He was probably carrying up packages for the residents again, even though he wasn't allowed up there.
You glanced at his desk and something caught your attention. A very large package sat right on the edge of it, looking homemade with its messy taping and rough surface.
It intrigued you so you got closer. Your hand brushed along the material, eyes following it up all the way to the top where a small, white, paper square had been taped on.
' For: y/n '
You let out a small gasp. There was nothing else on the note, no other name or even address. Whoever sent it must've gone straight here instead of sending it through the mail.
With shaky hands, you used a cardboard knife cutter that was on the desk to cut the package open. Inside you saw a lone, small teddy bear. It was new, untouched, and had perfectly spot-free white fur.
You noticed it was holding a broken heart and it had a gloomy, melancholy expression on its face. While shoving your hand in to try and find if there was anything under the styrofoam, a sudden sound behind you made you jump.
'' Hey. ''
Recognizing the voice and placing it as belonging to the security guard, you visibly relaxed and turned around to face him.
'' You scared me. ''
'' Sorry about that. Ah, '' his eyes shifted to the package. '' you've opened it already. What was in it? ''
You waved the teddy bear in the air. '' Not much. Did you see who dropped it off? ''
'' It was just a regular delivery driver. He told me he'd been given it by some man the day before. ''
'' That's weird, '' you trailed off, mind already trying to come up with possible suspects.
For some reason, the dark staircase intruded your thoughts and in an instant, your focus shifted. Slowly your feet moved on their own until you were outside the building again.
The wind kissed your cheek and went past you, swirling down the steps. Your head turned with it. Just like the day before, it was dark, with only the scarce, dimly lit lamps illuminating spots here and there.
You weren't sure why you came out here. Had you expected to somehow spot the perpetrator in the dark, lurking while waiting for your reaction to opening the package?
One thing was for sure though, the gut feeling from before returned once again when you were at the staircase. That ominous, unexplainable feeling, of being watched.
The chill in the wind made you get back in as goosebumps littered your skin.
'' Did you see someone? ''
'' No, it's just...nothing. ''
You didn't feel like you were in the mood to explain and the security guard was thankfully exceptionally good at reading people, so he only smiled and bid goodnight.
In the dark of your own apartment, you lay for only a few minutes, aimlessly staring into the ceiling before it was interrupted by a rapt knock on your door. The sleepiness from before had disappeared since the new mystery had almost put you in a vigilant and paranoid state so you sprung up on your feet and opened it without any hesitation.
'' Sorry. You forgot this, '' it was your manager again, waving your wallet in the air.
'' Oh my god, I'm sorry. I feel like a burden now. ''
He laughed, '' It's fine. I noticed it almost right away. ''
You still felt bad even though he shook it off. Maybe you could invite him inside and offer tea or coffee for politeness; it was something you'd always seen your mom do when work on the house took a lot longer and the servicemen looked tired.
'' Would you like to come inside for a moment? I have coffee and tea. ''
'' I think I can spare a few minutes tea would be nice, '' he said, flashing a charming smile.
You returned it and then stepped aside so he could come in. He took a seat at your table next while you put the kettle on. An attempt at small talk was then made after silence briefly filled the space.
'' That guy will be banned from the bank, I'll see to it myself. You'll never have to worry about him again. ''
You sighed, '' Thank you, I don't know how I could ever pay you back, sir. ''
His eyes twinkled. Standing up he approached the door to the bathroom and pointed to it.
'' Can I use your bathroom? ''
'' Of course. ''
You went over to the kettle to see if it was almost ready. The sound of its hissing filled your ears. He took a long time in there and gave you room for your mind to wander off again.
He had found you quite quickly after you dropped your wallet and left the car. You stared at the door. Just as the door lock to the bathroom clicked, another thought struck you, this one much worse - How did he know where you lived?
Click
The door pushed open dramatically slow. Your manager stepped out and immediately locked eyes with you, he must've sensed something was wrong because he frowned.
His lips separated, but no words came out. He was left standing there, baffled, when you sprinted out of the apartment. You didn't stop until you reached the front desk.
'' Please call the police! ''
The security guard was startled by your entrance and jumped on his feet. '' What! Why? ''
'' My stalker is here, '' you waved your hands around, '' The one who gave me that package. ''
Things seemed to click in his head. He didn't question you further, instead calling the police and pulling you towards him protectively while you waited.
They arrived a lot quicker than you'd anticipated, which meant that only a few minutes had passed when your manager made his way downstairs after the shock had settled.
'' Why did you run? '' he questioned you.
You didn't answer and turned your head as if he was invisible. The security guard placed himself between you and your manager while the police led him out. He hadn't even been surprised they got called, it was like he was expecting them. You watched as they drove away with him in the back and sighed in relief.
'' Finally '' you mumbled to yourself, '' It's over. ''
The security guard smiled warmly at you which reminded you that you needed to thank him for his kindness.
'' I don't know how I could ever repay you for everything you've done for me. ''
He laughed, '' Don't worry about it. It's my job, and I'm just happy that you're safe. ''
'' Still, if it weren't for you I- '' you stopped, feeling yourself choking on tears as your mind imagined all possible endings.
He gave your shoulder a squeeze and looked at you sympathetically. Sensing that you needed some time to yourself, he then left to go talk to one of the remaining officers.
Long after they had all left and the commotion from the clamoring, nosey neighbors had settled, the feeling remained. It was hard going to sleep that night with your mind racing so much.
Despite that, you got ready and forced yourself to sleep, knowing that after some time you'd fall asleep naturally. You closed your eyes and daydreamed, occasionally taking a sip of the bottle of water next to your bed until falling into a deep slumber.
The next morning, you awoke with a pounding head yet again. Sitting up slowly you groaned and clutched it while your eyes looked around your apartment.
Something felt off.
You blamed the headache on stress and it causing you to not drink enough water, but you couldn't shake the feeling that the paranoia arose in you, the suspicion that someone had been inside your apartment.
'' That's nonsense, '' you sleepily mumbled to yourself.
One more yawn later and you managed to stand up, although with some difficulty. Inside the bathroom, you began to start your usual morning routine when your suspicions got closer to being confirmed.
On top of the toilet stood the roll of toilet paper. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary at first, it was in the same space it always was. However, on further inspection, the material was wet with a slight imprint of fingers.
You couldn't shake this off as a mere coincidence. All logical explanations were immediately ruled out - you hadn't showered before going to bed and the mark was so new, it wouldn't even have been left if you did go to the bathroom during the night. That was the thing, you didn't.
Freaked out of your mind, you did the first thing you could think of - leave the apartment.
With trembling hands, you managed to get your phone out while stumbling down the stairs. You called Ryujin who picked up almost immediately.
'' Y/n, you're late again! The boss is freaking out. ''
'' Sorry, I- '' you shook your pulsating head.
It was making you feel disoriented so words were formed a lot slower as your mind worked twice as slow.
'' Can you cover for me? I don't think I can come to work today actually. ''
'' What why? '' when she heard the uneasy tone in your voice, she paused. '' Did something happen? ''
'' I'll tell you later. ''
'' Okay, '' she worriedly agreed.
You had originally planned on going to work, but the events from the day before; as well as you convincing yourself that your stalker was waiting for you outside, made you reconsider.
On the short walk back to your apartment after you went to buy some food, you bumped into the security guard again.
'' Are you okay? ''
You turned around, quickly fixing your expression when you realized you must've looked erratic. '' Huh? ''
'' Did...something happen? ''
'' No. I'm okay. ''
You hurried to move on and get to your apartment. The silence inside when the door locked was deafening. A few seconds passed, then you turned all the lights on.
A kitchen knife was the weapon of choice as you navigated yourself through the apartment, checking every crook in it. You opened the door to your bedroom and bathroom with some hesitancy, only to find it completely empty, and just as you'd left them.
No one was hiding in your closet either, or under your couch, so you relaxed as you fell back on your bed again, exhausted from the stress and paranoia that was eating you up inside.
It must have been midday when you woke up again. It felt like it had been a long time since you left the building and actually went further than the corner shop.
Aimlessly you walked with a slight hurry to your steps, down the steep staircase, and into the center of the square where you hailed a cab.
Since the day before, you felt like you wanted to visit the police station. You needed to make sure the stalker had been caught and that it was just your mind playing tricks on you because you'd been so shaken up.
Thankfully it wasn't busy so you managed to get a hold of an officer at the desk right away.
'' Hey. How can I help you? ''
'' I'm wondering about someone you have in custody. I'm looking for someone and I want to see them. ''
'' Are you a family member? ''
'' No, is that okay? ''
'' State your relation to the person and who you want to see. ''
You filled in a form and then followed the lady at the reception as she led you through the maze that was the police station. The manager's eyes widened when he spotted you, and despite being warned by the guard not to, he started on his feet and grabbed the bars.
'' Y/n! Please tell them it was a misunderstanding. ''
Your lips thinned. '' I can't, because I'm not so sure it is. ''
He stared at you bewilderedly while incoherent words left his mouth until he finally turned his attention to the guard as an idea popped into his disoriented head.
'' Are you allowed to show her that I filed a report? ''
'' No sir. I can only confirm. ''
'' So you confirm that I filed a police report last night against the actual stalker and harasser of this lady? ''
'' I confirm you filed a report, '' the officer grumbled.
'' Why? ''
Your manager sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.
'' Because I'm not the man who has been stalking you! ''
'' How can I trust you? ''
For whatever reason, he hesitated which made alarm bells ring in your ears. You weren't sure you'd believe anything he'd say from then on, it all seemed very planned and rehearsed.
'' Look. I got your room number from the security guard, I asked him where you lived since I needed to give you the wallet back. ''
You shook your head and backed away from the bars. '' No, I don't believe you. Ever since I joined the company you've always been there, ready to protect me, coming out of nowhere to pretend to be my hero. But you're the one pulling the strings behind the scenes! You are my stalker. ''
You directed your attention to the officer again. '' Have you got enough evidence to keep him longer? ''
The ticking of the large clock right above your head made you aware of the fact that they'd have to release him out of custody unless they had compelling evidence.
'' No ma'am. The DNA test results will arrive in a week. ''
You released a shaky breath and raised both your hands as if trying to grasp something invisible to ground yourself.
'' Okay, okay, '' you mumbled under your breath.
'' The other possible suspect will be arrested tonight. If you'd like, we can escort you back home safely. ''
'' Yes please, I'd appreciate that. ''
If you stayed inside for a week, which was slightly inconvenient but manageable nonetheless, then maybe they'd have newer evidence as well as the DNA results from the gift box you gave them.
The kind officers escorted you home as promised and for the first time in a long time, you didn't feel paranoid and scared while waving goodbye to them. You went upstairs and checked every room again before falling asleep.
As you awoke the next day, the sun had risen a long time ago. Your work was the last thing on your mind. Instead of calling in sick again, despite the risk of being fired, you called your friend Ryujin.
There was a chance that your manager had been released so you didn't want to be alone.
She picked up after only a few rings, sounding out of breath and worried. '' Y/n? Where the fuck have you been? ''
You jumped back and winched at her loud voice. She was shouting so much that you could hear her perfectly fine even while holding the phone an arm's length away from your ear.
'' I was so worried! I thought something bad happened to you after that pervert at work caused a scene, and then you call me once to tell me to cover for you at work! ''
She did have a point. You didn't give her an explanation after basically going completely silent. No one at work must've had any clue what was going on in your private life and why you weren't there. But if anyone deserved to know it was Ryujin.
'' I'm sorry, '' you began, sighing heavily. '' I've been dealing with a lot of shit lately. ''
'' Like what? '' she spat back, although less angry and loud this time.
'' It's hard to explain. Ever since that day I've been feeling like someone's been watching me. ''
'' A stalker? ''
'' Yeah, something like that. ''
'' Why didn't you tell me sooner? ''
'' It was a lot I had to process and figure out on my own first. I think this...stalker has been breaking into my apartment. ''
'' What? ''
'' I don't have a lot of proof of it. Mostly, it's just a feeling. ''
She went quiet for a moment, then when she spoke again, her voice sounded thick with sympathy. '' I believe you. ''
'' Thank you, '' you smiled wholeheartedly even though she couldn't see you.
You didn't know how much you'd missed her until you heard her voice again.
'' Do you wanna come over? ''
'' Of course. I think you need someone right now, '' she half-joked. '' I have enough vacation days, so that won't be a problem. I'll be over in twenty! ''
'' Okay, bye see you! ''
'' Bye! ''
You spent the next twenty minutes pacing back and forth in your apartment, not daring to go check if the toilet roll had been used again. When the bell rang, you felt so relieved, you didn't even check who it was.
Thankfully, that time it was actually Ryujin and not someone else. You flung yourself into her arms and hugged her tightly.
'' Oh wow, someone's missed me. ''
'' Shut up, '' you gave her a grin despite your words, which she returned as she sat down.
'' So. Tell me everything. ''
*******
After hearing the whole story, your friend was more worried than ever. Her reaction was a lot stronger than the other people who knew about it and you felt relieved she shared your paranoia.
The two of you drove down to the station so you could see if they had released him yet. Luck seemed to finally be on your side as they told you they had extended the time and were questioning both of the suspects since the creep from your job had been brought in too.
The weight on your shoulders had lifted completely now. Unless they broke out or were freed not long after, you'd at least have a night of serene rest, finally worry-free.
'' We will contact you when we have more information, '' the kind lady at the desk told you while you were leaving again.
'' Maybe I can go back to work tomorrow. ''
Ryujin turned her head so fast she almost crashed the car.
'' Are you sure? Do you not feel scared anymore? ''
'' No, why would I? I think it'll be okay. Soon they will get the results and they can finally be charged and put away forever. ''
She hummed in response, deep in thought, but agreed in the end that it would be good for you to go back to routine. You would put the whole thing behind you.
'' Thank you for dropping me off, and for coming over today. ''
'' No need to thank me, I was going crazy thinking about all the things that could've happened to you. Promise me you'll never leave me in the dark like that again! '' she frowned.
You laughed loudly, '' Promise. ''
As she drove off you waved enthusiastically so she'd see you were fine, because she kept asking if you were sure you didn't want her to stay the night.
On the way up, you saw the security guard again. He noticed your bright smile and lit up when he saw you.
'' You seem to be in a good mood today. ''
'' Yes! I am. ''
He stepped into the elevator with you and raised a small package in his hand to show you he was doing a delivery.
'' Is there any reason in particular? ''
'' The whole thing has been solved...well, pretty much anyway. The two suspects were arrested so I will be sleeping well tonight. ''
'' That's great! ''
You nodded, '' What floor are you going to? ''
'' Same as you, the eight, '' he gestured to the buttons and you pressed it for him.
'' You're too nice, I keep saying it. Shouldn't people come get their own packages in the lobby? ''
'' They should, but they don't. I guess the positive thing is that it leads to better reviews, so higher prices, and then I get a higher salary, '' he winked.
'' Smart, playing the long game. ''
You stepped out of the elevator and started walking towards your apartment. Even from afar, you noticed something was wrong with the lock. It kept beeping and flashing an error message.
It was quite easily fixed so you tried to contain your irritation on the inside.
'' Are you okay over there? '' the security guard shouted from the other side of the hallway.
He had dropped off his package and came over, having heard the noises.
'' Damn it. That fucker must've been inside this morning. ''
'' I thought he was arrested. ''
You nodded and swallowed bitterly, a look of disdain struck across your features. '' He was, I guess he just had to do it one last time. ''
'' Will you be okay? '' his soft voice sounded even more gentle as it was laced with genuine concern, '' do you want me to check? ''
'' No. The danger's gone, he can't hurt me anymore. ''
You didn't know if it was him you were trying to convince or yourself.
'' You can sleep with me, '' he timidly added.
'' What? '' you whipped your head around, having been lost in your thoughts for a moment.
'' I meant sleep by me, '' he blushed, '' in the lobby, if you feel scared. ''
You knew he probably meant well, but it was hard to hide the expression your face changed into since you felt a little weirded out. To sleep near someone is to trust them completely.
'' Thank you. I'll remember that in case I change my mind. ''
It was said in a stern tone, finalizing the conversation. The security guard was observant and picked up on it, nodding curtly before leaving. You gave the lock one final irritated look, then closed the door behind you and hurried to turn the lights on.
One tour later where you found no one and you were yet again left to make the hours go by until it was time to fall asleep again. You were thankful for the water bottle that always stood on your nightstand then as you downed it thirstily.
It washed over you like a wave, the sleepiness, and like it was knocking you over, you found yourself falling back against the soft mattress and blinking hazily at the ceiling.
Mere minutes after, you couldn't fight against it any longer so you became engulfed in what had become a familiar darkness. The sun outside slowly started fading, there was no way to tell how long it had been since you laid down; its last golden-red beams illuminated against your window.
Your room which was now one with the darkness suddenly lit up briefly. The screen of a phone on the table lighting up as a message popped up.
It went unnoticed and so the room turned black again. But then more messages came in, just when it was about to go dark - another lit up the room.
00:13
Ryujin: y/n?
Ryujin: can you answer me? this is important
00:14
Ryujin: are you okay?
00:15
Missed call from Ryujin
00:15
Ryujin: if you don't pick up the phone I'm coming over, if you see this, make sure you lock your door and the windows, also make sure you check everywhere!
Ryujin: the DNA results came in
The sound of a door unlocking echoed in the apartment. A hooded man stalked towards your sleeping form and the bed dipped as he sat down on it to pet your head.
00:15
Ryujin: it's not them, it's someone else
You stirred in your sleep, blissfully unaware of the danger that lurked just above you.
'' Sorry about the drugs, sweetheart. It's the only way I could visit you at night. But now, we will be together forever, '' the man said, and as he carried you out, the reflection in the mirror showed your stalker - the security guard.
*******
(explanation; although I think most people will guess it right I'll explain why it was him. The reason all she did was sleep was because of the drugs, he put them in the water bottle and then snuck in after she fell asleep during his nightshift, he laid next to her & even used her things (such as the paper) because he played '' house '' or pretended he was her boyfriend; since he was the security guard he had the easiest access to her as they often have keys to every apartment & it's also why he said he didn't see anyone delivering the package to y/n, I guess your enemies are a lot closer than you'd think c: !! if u have any more questions feel free to send them <3
381 notes · View notes
hotheadedhero · 1 month ago
Text
Threshold
AN: Think I still got Rise Raph deep-rooted in the brain, especially his savage mode, soooooo enjoy the result of my obsession :3
Raphael x Reader
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Warnings: violence, couple of bad words, kinda angsty (are you surprised?), savage Raph being protective <3
Dark. Pitch black. Quiet.
When did it get so dark?
The last thing Raph remembers is-
Crud. His head is pounding. He pulls himself up from the strangely cold floor and rises lethargically only to cause further incursion against a ceiling. Ow. One hand nurses the top of his head as the other feels around. He’s inside some kind of box, smooth all around and cold - must be a metal. How did he get in here? He was… he was out. Somewhere. That’s it, he was out with… with… with you! Yeah, date night, that was it. Then, something happened. Damn it. He can’t concentrate with this drumming in his skull. Him and you. Out together. Then… then? 
Shit!
His shoulder suddenly barrels into the side, and a second time but no budge. He remembers now: the two of you were making your way back from an anniversary date when a group got the jump on you. They must have knocked him over the head and trapped him in here whilst he was unconscious. That means they have you. No. Not on his watch. Not as long as he’s got breath in his lungs.
Surveying his circumstances, he realises just how serious these guys are about keeping him at bay. No windows, not even a keyhole for light to pass through, nothing but darkness. This box also appears to block out a decent amount of sound. Just him and the crackle of his breathing as it comes in and out in shorter successions. His palms stroke over the cold, metal walls before he punches one. Then, again. He slams his fists in the same place over and over in the hopes of creating a weak spot. 
Nothing.
His annoyance and dread only grow. Just what is this thing made of? No. No time to speculate. It doesn’t matter how sturdy this entrapment is. What matters is finding a way to break it. Whoever has done this is going to pay sorely. Raphael is protective of everyone he cares about but when it comes to you, he feels a bit more passionate; decisively out for blood. A concerning revelation he hadn’t the cause to encounter until now but he won’t worry about that now. He needs to make sure you're not hurt. He needs to get out.
Once again, his hands ball up and he punches every spot he can feel. He's not going to give up. He'll keep going until his knuckles bleed if he has to. Every whack makes the metal ring in his ears. Every jab stings as bruises form on his fists. With every hit, an image of you flashes in his mind, scared of what danger you may be in. The interior lights up with the bright red of his ninpõ and he carries on. He has to protect you. There’s no way of contacting his brothers for their aid. He needs to get out.
Eventually, he comes to a stop. Raph gave it all his might and hasn't even made a scratch. The perpetual darkness and his stunted gasping pushes him closer to the edge. He falls to his knees, head spinning, his mind dizzy and disoriented. Right. That’s right. This cage is a complete seal, which means it's more than likely that there aren't any cracks for even oxygen to pass through. His air is finite and he's wasted it all on this futile attempt to break out. No. He needs to get OUT!
The large snapper cries out in frustration, only for his screams to bounce back at him with an even fiercer roar. You’re alone with the threat out there. He’s alone in here. He can feel himself slipping. The only assurance he has is himself and his self-assaulting shots of paranoia. Why can't he get out of this forsaken box?! No. No. Nonono! He needs to stay. He's not going to be much help if he ends up going berserk. Raphael’s teeth clench and he clasps onto his head desperately. It feels like his brain is splitting in two. Crap! Keep it together. Keep it together. Keep it to-
On the outside, some tunnels down, you have your hands tied, held behind your back with little give. The ropes bite into your wrists as you twist and turn, trying to find some leverage to loosen them. Your surroundings are cold and unwelcoming, filled with the faint scent of metal and something else you can’t immediately place. It’s unpleasant but recognisable. The sewers. More specifically, New York sewers. That’s a relief in some respect, knowing that you’re still in familiar territory. You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to focus. Raph is out there, and you need to find a way to reach him. Your heart races at the thought of him being in pain or worse. You can't let that happen. You have to find a way to get to him, to tell him you're okay, to let him know that you're fighting too. Think. There must be a way to get out of this before those hoodlums come back. Everything around you is as bare as the ideas in your head, in that you have none. With a huff, you adjust back into a sitting position. Something pokes at you where thigh meets hip bone. Something sharp. A shuriken! You’re glad for your need to be ready for any given situation but wish you had opted to place it in your back pocket instead. The top half of your body swivels one way and you force your legs to turn the opposite. Your fingers twitch and stretch in desperation. With each movement, the ropes dig deeper into your skin, but you push through the pain. You suck in a sharp breath and twist yourself further. A nail scratches against the metal and then the tip of your fingers. You frantically stroke towards yourself until it’s released from the captive pocket and clanks onto the ground. There’s no time to get breath back, however. You quickly stumble on an axis and clasp onto the star, wasting not another second as you delicately rub it back and forth against the ropes. The fibres begin to fray, and you can feel the bindings loosening. Hope surges within you, igniting a fire in your belly. You just need a little more time.
Just as you’re about to free your wrists, two figures, masked and menacing, step inside the concave structure of grey brick and stone, their eyes glinting with malice as they size you up. You do the same, noting the slightly inhuman shapes of them. They must be Yokai of some description if you had to guess. Do the turtles have beef with any Yokai? You don’t recall.
"Well, well, look who decided to wake up," one of them sneers, stepping closer.
You swallow hard, adrenaline coursing through your veins. "Where's Raph?" you demand, your voice steadier than you feel. “What do you want with us?”
The other figure kneels down to your level and chuckles darkly, “Our only interest is that big pet of yours. He’s got a pretty price on his head for the battle nexus and we intend to collect.”
The battle nexus: a major blood sport attraction that used to take place in the hidden city back when Big Mama was running shop. An event that you thought to be deceased many years ago. You suppose it’s only natural that someone would eventually want to resurrect it for their own nefarious desires. What better way to do that than with a behemoth turtle who showcases great strength? If their only priority is Raphael then what’s the point in keeping you around? You’re glad they’ve kept you alive but they could have just as easily left you behind. You’re almost afraid to ask but you need to maintain conversation whilst subtly working on your restraints.
“Why keep me around then?”
“Leverage,” the one in front of you states simply and you can feel the smirk in his voice. “Our guess is that he’ll be more agreeable if he doesn’t want you getting hurt.”
The two laugh and you frown. A sense of dread swirls in your stomach. Sickos. Taking advantage of someone’s love and care just to torture the life of another. Each cackle from their hidden lips only feeds into your desperation that much more. It takes another moment and then, finally, your shoulders can relax and you take a calming breath. You join in their laughter, rising in volume as they quieten. When they silence completely, you do the same with a long, melodic sigh.
“You made just one teeny tiny miscalculation.” Suddenly, your arms land at your sides and you fall back, bringing your feet up to kick the first tyrant in the face. “Dating one of the Mad Dogs means picking up a few tricks!”
With one down, you push yourself forward onto your feet, quickly tossing the throwing star in the other guy’s direction. It catches him on the leg and he howls in pain, falling to one of his knees. That works for you. You see your opening and take it, running as fast as you can down the long tunnel. With determination fueling your every step, you run, ready to face whatever awaits you, knowing that the moment you find Raph, you’ll both be able to get out of this.
"Raph!" you shout, desperate for him to hear you. "I’m here! I’m coming!"
The sound of something scraping against metal echoes through the sewer hall, and you can only assume that it has to do with him. Running on that theory, you sprint in the direction the sound came from, bounding past a couple of goons and bringing you to a large junction where four tunnels meet. In the centre of this junction is a large metal cage and it cries from something inside trying to get out. He’s in there. This is it! 
You run past five or six more masked figures to get to the box. Maybe you should have thought this through better. Yet again, they won’t be a problem if you can figure out how to open this thing; a switch, a lever, anything! But there’s nothing. In a last-ditch effort, you pick up the first thing at your disposal - a broken pipe - and whack it against one of the corners. The hit reverberates and sends a shockwave through your bones, making you drop the pipe. How are you supposed to get this blasted cage open?!
You reach for the rusted tube of metal again but a set of arms snake around you and lift you from the ground, tearing a scream from your lungs. Freedom was so sweet, yet so short. You shout hysterically for your Raphael, hoping with all your breath that it’ll reach him, that it’ll give him the strength to breach him of his capture. 
"Sorry to burst your bubble,” one of the crooks from before laughs, although breathless from his run here, “but that box has been infused with mystic energy! It would take a miracle to-"
SCHREEE-EEEECH!!!
A piercing shriek cuts through the open air and everyone halts. Bangs like thunder trail after, followed by another loud, ear-splitting scrape of metal. All eyes slowly glance over to the box where a couple of large, dark-green spikes are poking out from the side, having cut through. They disappear back inside and are soon replaced with two hands that proceed to push the metal away. You smile victoriously. You knew your big lug would find a way to break out. That spiky shell is sharper than he gives himself credit for. You attempt to run forward and reunite with him but this damn bastard won’t let go of you.
Raph erupts from the confines of the metal box, hunched over and huffing with a gravelliness that makes the hairs on your neck stand up. The atmosphere shifts like a storm brewing on the horizon. He stands tall and intimidating, the dim light casts shadows over his hulking figure, muscles coiled like springs ready to unleash chaos. The moment he spots you, a deep growl rumbles from deep within his chest, resonating with an anger that has been building in the darkness.
Still, no one has attempted a move, no one brave enough to do so, but one is eager to see this standstill put to an end. “Don’t just stand there! Attack!”
The crooks scramble, thrusting their weapons in his direction and he responds with a guttural battle cry, lunging at the nearest bandit - a hulking brute who barely has time to raise his weapon before Raph’s fist connects with his jaw. The impact is followed by a nasty crack and the crook is sent sprawling backwards into a wall before slumping to the ground like a ragdoll. This beast - your boyfriend - doesn’t stop there, moving with an agility that almost seems unnatural. He pounces forward with a speed that belies his size, taking out more assailants one by one and without restraint. Each attempt on his life is met with devastating retaliation and another nameless body on the ground.
Heart racing, you stand helplessly caught in the grip of the larger thug who has yet to release you. You can only watch in awe and horror as the dark side of your boyfriend further emerges like some fiery reincarnation. It’s as if he’s become something other than himself, a creature of pure rage, driven by a rudimentary wrath that eclipses the calculated fighter you know. Raph’s movements are fierce, but there’s something primal about them, a wildness that feels almost foreign. It’s as if he’s been overtaken by something deeper, something instinctual that drives him to protect.
When there are none left to fight, you call out, “Raph!” your voice breaking through the chaos.
He stalls, sits on pause for just a moment, and his head cranes to the side to face you. That’s when you see it, that’s when it makes sense; his eyes. They hold no shine, nor do they ignite with relief upon realising your presence. Clouded over, ghost white, they are completely and utterly devoid of your Raphael. You think you’ve grounded him, even slightly, but the sound of your voice and your helpless form only torches his fury further.
Those blank eyes stare just to your left and at the thug still holding you. You feel his entire body stutter, hear the gulp in his throat, and a whimper just before he lets go. He runs off with a trip and gets away as fast as he can, being the only one who has managed to flee the area unscathed. You’re weirdly glad for that. In a morbid kind of way, he can hopefully warn others not to ever mess with you guys again.
You gradually tempt yourself to look back at your hulking goliath of a boyfriend. 
You’ve heard about Raph’s “savage mode” but you’ve never seen it yourself. There’s never been an instance in which it could happen. From the moment you two have been together, you’ve practically been tied at the hip. You don’t want to fear him of all people but you recount stories of this beastly persona, how even his own family have not been entirely safe in the midst of his presence. There’s no telling if you’re in danger right now.
He makes his way towards you and it’s as though you’ve been turned to stone. Worst-case scenarios flood your better judgment to the point that you can’t bear to look. Remaining dead still, you listen closely to his movements, trying to ignore the pounding of your heart in your ears. It sounds like he’s right in front of you and then… behind you? Slowly, you take a peak and turn. He stares off where that last thug had run off, seemingly chalking up whether he should chase after or not. If you had to guess. He appears to decide against it and circles you again. There’s been no move to actively acknowledge you, which you hope is a good sign.
“Raph?” With no idea of what’s going on inside his head, all you can think to say is his name.
He huffs and makes a glance at you, only to return his attention to the room. A strong arm is held out in front of you as he breathes gruffly. His head jerks side to side in case there are any more threats to vanquish but it’s clear to you that they’re all beat. You need to find a way to calm him down so that you two can get out of here. Pronto. He backs up closer to you and lowers himself more. Before you can wonder what he’s doing, he suddenly grabs you and pulls you into his chest, holding you there with one arm.
“Whoa, whoa, easy there, big guy. It’s okay. You got them all.”
Your efforts to lull his antsy behaviour are for nothing. He huffs from his nostrils down at you again and runs off. His grasp on you is secure, strong, and safe like any other instance you’re wrapped up in green muscle. You thank whatever higher forces that even this feral side won’t hurt you but you still need to get your Raph back before anything goes out of control again. You imagine he must be taking you somewhere safe, where is what you’re concerned about. There’s no telling who you may cross paths with and who could get hurt while he’s like this. Granted, the sewers aren’t regularly populated but it would just be your luck if there were workers down here at this time or something.
You keep trying to usher him to calm down but he continues on his quest, running through the maze of sewers. There’s no getting through to him. He only skids to a stop when something clinks around the corner and gets down on all fours minus the arm holding you. The source of the scuffle is nothing more than a group of mice looking for a good meal. Despite the lack of threat, he’s still on edge, body tense and rigid around you. You try to wiggle free of his arm and reach out for his cheek, softly petting the rough skin.
“Shh, baby, it’s okay,” you calmly usher. “We’re okay.”
He takes in a shuddery breath and shakes his head. There’s a battle in his mind, an instance in which he wavers. Much is clear when his hold loosens. You scramble against the floor and onto your feet, taking a hold of his face before he can straighten himself out or blow up again. There’s a combative roll of his vocals, sounding shot, and his head leans down into your hands. Hunched over like this, he almost looks like a big, wounded dog in need of comfort.
“Raph… keep safe,” he grunts quietly.
Those blank eyes flicker up, a spark of recognition igniting behind them. It’s like watching a storm cloud begin to part, revealing the sun beyond. He’s in there. He’s coming out. Little by little, your soft-hearted giant is trying to return. You smile down at him, hopeful, and softly pull him closer. As you hold him against your chest, you plant a soft kiss on the top of his head. He relaxes into it and gingerly wraps his arms around you.
“I am safe,” you whisper, stroking a hand over his head. “You always keep me safe.”
He hums back lowly. You both stay like this for a moment; the security of his hold around your waist, your fingers delicately caressing his head. You don’t mind how long it takes for him to fully relax. You’ll take all the time in the world if you have to. Though time seems to be on your side when he suddenly gasps loudly. His arms go taut and you hold onto his head, paving a hand over the top of his shell.
“Hey, heyheyhey! It’s okay, I gotcha,” you reassure. “Just breathe.”
His breathing is ragged, each inhale shaky as he processes all of the chaos that unfolded. Raphael can’t piece together what happened. He knows what happened to him to get to where he is right now but he doesn’t know the extent of what he’s done. The echoes of his own growls and the sounds of battle play back in his mind but without any cohesiveness. It’s so terrifyingly frustrating. It’s there and it isn’t. He quickly looks up at you, eyes frantically darting around, then back on you in search of any injuries.
“Where- What happened to- I didn’t-” He swallows hard and trembles against you. “Did I hurt you?”
“No,” you answer quickly, “you didn’t. You could never.”
You hold onto his face, grounding him as best as you can. The fear still lingers. His chest is still collapsing under every half-breath and stuttered gasp. He can’t bear the thought of hurting you. Even if it isn’t entirely him, he would never- could never forgive himself for such a thing. As he continues to crumble, you know it’s going to take more than words to calm him down.
“Raph, look at me,” you say softly, urging him to focus on you. “I’m fine. You didn’t hurt me. I promise.” You kiss his forehead and speak into the skin. “Just breathe, okay? In and out. Just like we practised.”
He nods, albeit slowly, and tries to mirror your breathing. His head hangs low whilst he tries to collect himself. You watch as his body rises and falls, your heart aching more with every pained whimper croaking in his throat. His vulnerability is something you’ve rarely witnessed, reserved for the few times that he’s had night terrors. 
Gradually, the frantic energy starts to dissipate. He leans into you, resting his forehead against yours as he tries to regain his composure. You can feel the tension in his muscles begin to ease. His eyes slowly open and he expects to be faced with distress but all he finds is a gentle, sad smile. He only wishes he had the strength to give you one in return. At least he’s gotten a grip on himself now. His nerves are shot but he’s steady again. That’s the main thing.
“There we go. I’m so proud of you.” You softly peck the space between his eyes and smile more assuringly. “Let’s go home now, okay?”
Coming to a slow stand, he breathes out and nods. “Yeah… yeah. Let’s go home.”
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volturiprincess · 4 months ago
Text
From the other side
Demetri Volturi x F newborn vampire
Warnings: Foul language, death, mentions of a Emetophobia, I bash on the Cullens here A/N: This was a request by @kpopgirlbtssvt, I got to say I enjoyed working on this. Its been a while since I worked on an actual long one-shot request but I hope the wait was worth it, and I might of changed some ideas on the request slightly (but still stayed on topic). Enjoy💙 Word Count: 4k+ (wow)
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(He's just so gorgeous🥰)
“I think she’s waking up”
“How do you know?”
“Well you can see her eyeball moving Emmett, I'm no doctor but I think that is a sign she is waking up”
“Oh well sorry Mister Smartypants, didn't know I was in the presences of an expert”
“Focus, should we fetch Carlisle? He said he would be back soon but what if he’s already here?”
“I'll check, you stay here incase she starts moving around, wouldn't want her newborn instincts to kill Nessie”
“Fairpoint”
Why do I feel so strange? Where the hell am I? Maybe I should wake up, maybe the one with the southern accent could give me answers. I force myself to wake up and when I do everything seems so different. Everything seems so focused, enhanced, so…perfect. When has my vision ever been this good? I know I've been neglecting my glasses quite often but even with my glasses on I never had such good eyesight, I always thought I never needed them. I sit up slowly to check my surroundings. Crap! Where am I? What even happened to me? 
Flashback….
Just left my final class of the day, Anatomy is such a pain in the ass really. Why did I decide to take both Anatomy 1 and Genetics in the same semester? But I mean it's worth it, get the harder classes out of the way and then I can maybe squeeze in other classes I am interested in before graduating. I clinged my heavy textbooks to my chest tighter as I tiredly made my way to my small apartment. I got lucky that this place was cheap compared to living on campus, and the bonus to it is that my place is about 5 minutes away from campus. I heard the school bell ring signaling some class has ended, instantly I'm surrounded by a swarm of students like me. All of them either off to  their next class, or home, or even getting a late lunch. I was slightly pushed around until I managed to find an opening but not everything can go to plan. As I was trying to get to the opening someone shoved me a bit too hard and the books I was clutching flew out of my arms, I went along with them.
I heard a simple “My bad” and then I was met with silence. I hurriedly picked up my stuff and saw how people just looked but didn't help or offer a hand. Situations like this makes me want to just disappear. Just be able to get to point A to B without any mishaps. I composed myself mentally and continued my walk to my apartment. Considering it's only 5, it's already pitch black. I don't like walking alone at night, sure I’m a night owl, but I like to be alone in a safe space. As I'm walking I felt that weird feeling of being watched, it's like a sixth sense to me at this point, please tell me it's just my paranoia and not real. I do a quick scan and I'm met with no one but silence that makes an exception to the far off train horn. I hurried off trying to shake off that paranoia until I bumped into what I thought was a wall (ended up being a ‘human’)and then I was met with darkness.
Present…
I felt my eyes fill with tears but I soon noticed they would not fall, I tried blinking but nothing happened. I went to wipe my eyes with my hand instead but felt my hand move abnormally faster. Okay what the heck? I know I sometimes have my days where my reflexes kick in or not but I have never been able to move that fast. And as if on cue my throat felt so dry, I felt like I could drain the pacific and yet that would not be enough to satisfy the level of thirst I have. I tried swallowing but noticed that it didn't even help or even do anything.
“Carlisle should be here soon with something to subdue the thirst”
My gaze snaps to the man who is casually keeping guard at the door. The way he stood made me think he was maybe in the military or something. Why is he beautiful? His blonde locks styled perfectly and his eyes… Are they gold? I have never seen that type of eye color on someone before, I mean I have read a book where one of the characters had pirate gold eyes but in person that’s strange.
“Wh-wha- where am I?”
The way his gaze slowly met mine gave me the creeps, it was like from a scene of a horror movie, where if you spot something from a distance and then you blink, they are right in front of you, killing you.
“Carlisle will answer your questions”
“Why can't you?”
“I'm not in a position to be telling you stuff, all I'm here is to keep you calm since you are a newborn”
“A newborn?”
And then I was met with silence, he turned away from me so he was back to facing the wall like he was previously. 
“Could I at least get your name?”
“Jasper Whitlock, ma’am”
What feels like ages, another man walks in with a big guy. The first one seems like he is the one in charge around here, he seemed nice. He had a calm presence within, but the other guy seemed like he was ready to pick up a fight, probably the muscles around here. Now that I'm thinking about it more, am I in some sort of mafia? But these guys don't seem all that scary, maybe the big one and the Jasper guy. The calm one got closer to me and offered me a cup.
“Here drink this, it should help with the thirst”
I crabbed the cup hesitantly, hoping it wouldn't kill me, and drank it desperately. Finishing it in milliseconds, I did feel a small relief but I still had that feeling of an intense thirst. 
“We will give you more later but I think you deserve an explanation”
“You think”
He smiled gently but nodded “Well to start of you are not human anymore, you might of picked that up slightly since you have woken up”
Not human anymore? But what could I possibly be then? What have they done to me? Am I a monster now?
“You are now a newborn, a vampire to be exact”
That right there was the biggest mick drop of my life. What does he mean i'm a-a vampire? Those exist? I thought they were just myths, that they are just some made up thing that people build up over the years. But now I'm somehow one now? This shit can't be real, he probably has me on some drugs on something. Yeah that's right, probably drugged me and I'm trapped in some dream or something.
“I can see your in denial, there’s really no way to really explain it but you really are a vampire, that cup you drank from was filled with blood, deer blood to be exact”
Oh heck no. I drank blood? I never had a problem with blood, I mean I have a major in the medical field for a reason. Just can't get over vomiting, that's just a big phobia of mine, someone throws up and I'm literally about to faint. But enough of that.
“You gotta be joking here, vampires do not exist, there just myths”
“Well with all honesty here, I assure you I'm not joking, not with the times we are facing now”
“And what is that?”
“Well my family and I are in a bit of a dilemma, you see we have engaged another coven of vampires, and they are threatening to kill our family over a misunderstanding”
“Pardon my language, but what the fuck? What do you mean ‘another coven of vampires’ and a supposed death threat, there's more of you guys out there?”
The big guy chuckled slightly at my foul language and I heard him mumble a “Oh I like her, she’s way more funny than Bella”
“Yes well you see, our kind if basically spread out around the world, this other coven of vampires are living in Italy, but this coven is basically like our government, royalty you can say even, there more dangerous than us, they feed on human blood and they have gifts that can wipe out humanity in an instant”
Ok this other coven sounds scary, wipe out humanity? What the hell did this guy and his family do to anger them anyways, must be pretty serious.
“So let me guess this straight, you and your family have angered this powerful coven of vampires who can in your words wipe out humanity and…are doing what now?”
“Well we been gathering witness to help us avoid a fight with this coven”
“I see but what exactly did you do to anger this coven of powerful vampires then?”
“My son and his new wife had a baby”
“A baby? I'm sorry I don't see a problem here”
“Vampires cannot recreate, that's what I thought until my then human daughter-in-law got pregnant”
“Ok? Still not seeing a problem here”
“I guess an easier way to explain is as I said vampires cannot recreate, we are biologically not able to do such thing between two vampires, but between a vampire male and female human, it's possible but the problem here is the Volturi believe we have created an immortal child, which we didn't”
“I see so then why do they believe you created an immortal child? And also what is an immortal child?”
“An immortal child is a child what was turned into a vampire, there stuck as a child for eternity and cannot control their thirst or be calmed or even age, they are in modern terminology are illegal, and to answer the other question, apparently hybrids are not common and they did not know about them existing”
 The more he answers my questions, the more I think I am definitely dreaming, no way in hell is all of this real. Why am I even being roped into this? I was just some human who was just trying to be a Physician and now that dream is out the window because I'm apparently a vampire now. I need to wake up, this cannot be my life right now, I have so much to live for still. Sure I was quiet and not in some relationship but I still liked the life I had. 
“Now the real question here is, why or how am I even part of this?”
They were all quiet instantly and none of them were making eye contact with me. Ok weird… I mean even the big guys amused look was gone and that guy answering my questions with a small smile was also gone. Something here does not feel right. Someone burst into the room, which freaked me out a bit because this guy along with his buddy looked intimidating with all their leather and the intense red eyes. I felt a weird current roll down my body and then I heard gasps. The Jasper dude looked at me with wide eyes, well everyone was looking at me with the same wide eyes. 
“She’s gone!”
“No I don't think so Emmett, she’s gifted”
“What are the odds of finding one that is gifted”
“Not very likely”
Why are they all talking about me as if I wasn't there?
“Um i'm right here”
The ‘nice’ one spoke up first “Well it seems you have a gift miss, your invisible currently”
“Seriously?” I looked down and as he said I am indeed invisible. Maybe that weird current I felt earlier was me triggering this. Should I tell him this?
“How were you able to do that?”
“I don't know, I um felt a weird feeling run through me after those two over there came in”
“Vladimir and Stefan triggered it? Hmm it seems it came from fear then, interesting”
So those are their names, I wonder who is who. My wild guess is the platinum blonde is Vladimir and the dark haired one is Stefan. 
As if he knew I was talking about him, the platinum started to speak “So you were desperate enough for witnesses that you created a newborn? That’s low even for you Carlisle. At least she’s gifted but even then she probably has no combat skills so she won't be able to tear heads off if the time comes”
Ok y/n, let's think about becoming visible, I don't like how they're just staring at me like that, and also speaking smack about me either. Smoke started to surround me for a minute and when I looked at my hands to see I was now visible. Again I heard the gasp. 
“How did you do that?”
“I was just thinking about wanting to be visible”
“Well that’s good to know how your gift works”
“I guess”
Carlisle, it took him like thirty minutes to tell me his name, started to explain the situation more and even introduced me to the other members of his family. Jasper along with his friend taught me some basic combat skills in case a fight broke out with the confrontation. But the weird thing I discovered was when I met the infamous son, Edward, I was able to read his mind when he was reading mine, he gave me a funky look each time and tried to reduce his thoughts as much as he could. 
Funny enough but also traumatizing, he was always thinking about his honeymoon with his wife. I do not need to know how his child was conceived. When I met Alice a similar thing happened, she spaced out (which I found out she does when she has a vision) and I saw me with another figure, a man to be exact. The man in the vision was gorgeous, I never knew such a person could exist, he looked like a greek god. I think I might have another gift but I'm not sure I should tell Carlisle, there's just something off about why he won't tell me about how I became a vampire or what happened to me that night. 
—-------------------------------
Today is the day of the confrontation. Just last night I found out about vampires and now I might face death himself. And just today I found out werewolves or shifters exist, is everything in the books true then? I can feel my chest curl into itself and I feel myself internally hyperventilating. Can vampires do that? Well if they can that is exactly what is happening to me. I was placed between Vladimir and Stefan because apparently I should blend in and be more in the background then in front with the others. The Cullens think if the Volturi find out about me they might face a punishment of some sort.
But these two vampires are freaking me out slightly, they had an eye on me constantly, as if I were some criminal or something. With the confrontation I am fighting the urge to just disappear, I don't want part in this. It's not like I could be of help anyways, I can't really turn invisible on command, it just happens and turning visible doesn't always work when I want it to. The other gift I have, I still have no idea how it works or what it is exactly. 
Everyone is standing on guard waiting for the Volturi to arrive. I think the longer we wait the longer I feel my anxiety rise. I saw Vladimir move slightly, I followed his gaze to see a whole army of cloaked figures, they all moved in sync and let a smaller group move forward, those are definitely the kings with their guards. When they all stopped walking, they removed their cloaks and my eyes widened in shock. Why are they all really good looking? The big guy looks even more scary than Emmett, he’s basically towering over everyone. The other two I see are what I can assume are twins, they look alike except for the girl having blonde hair and the guy having brown hair. I heard the others say they are the most dangerous ones. I look at the kings, the only one who looks like he would kill everyone is the blonde one, he seems like the anger issues type of guy- err vampire. 
It seems I forgot to analyze another guard, he was slightly out of my view but how can anyone ignore his presence. I think this was the guy from Alice vision, in person he's more gorgeous. His lovely blonde hair styled to look like spikes, how his face is so symmetrical, he was indeed handcrafted by the gods.
I saw his gaze shift to meet mine, and oh dear gosh, a strong feeling overcame me. I don't even know what this feeling is, it's like an invisible string is trying to pull me toward him. I want to give in but I'm scared of what this is and I'm also scared that I might die right here. His focus was on me the whole time as the others spoke, there was even a point where he turned to the bored looking vampire to ask something which concluded with a nod from him. 
I don't even know what to center my fear right now, the fear from what is happening or the fear of this strange feeling I have with the breathtaking vampire. My attention on him was paused as I saw the blonde twin try to do something but that Bella girl used her shield, the blonde girl even looked at me but something odd happened. She clutched herself as if she was in agonizing pain and fell to her knees, my eyes widened slightly as her twin brother was at her side trying to somewhat resolve her pain.
Even the other Volturi members were shocked, the same twin boy turned his gaze to us and the anger that reflected his eyes was the most terrifying thing to witness. Out of his pure instincts he released a black smoke that also came out of my hands. I started to panic and the witnesses around me were also panicking, a bunch of them hissed for me to stop but I didn't know how or what was even happening.
A loud stop from the Volturi's side made everything go back to normal, the smoke was gone, the girl who was in pain stopped clutching herself and the boy's face was back to its resting form. Even the smoke I somehow had coming out of my hands had vanished. The king in the middle was the one who shouted stop from what I can tell.
“And who is this? She seems to have a very similar ability to one of my guards”
Carlisle who still had a confused looked form the earlier actions done by me “She’s part of Vladimir’s and Stefan’s coven”
The way the two vampires looked at Carlisle at the mention of their name would have left him buried six feet under. I could tell whatever plan the doctor had in mind was not planned. I mean even I was not aware of the plan to start off with, I was just told to stay quiet in the back and not turn invisible until they commanded me to. Vladimir not wanting to be thrown under the bridge or face any death just like me didn't let his voice be unheard 
“Still low of you Carlisle, he’s lying to you”
The look on the vampire king's face can be best described as if someone stabbed him in the back.
“Oh? Please do tell”
“She’s a newborn that Carlisle himself turned just recently”
“Oh my, bring her forward now”
I looked around the witness who was just staring at me as if I grew a second head. Carlisle gave me a look to go to them, so I walked toward the other coven, twiddling my fingers to try to calm my nerves down. So this is it then? This is how I die? As I got closer the elegant vampire kept his gaze on me, it almost looked like he was forcing himself to not go to me, like he was chained down. When I was a good ten feet away from them the tall muscular vampire one grabbed me. He had a strong hold on me, if I were human, painful bruises would indeed be forming at that instant. Again that handsome vampire looked like he was about to go to me but he stood his ground. The raven one came to me closer to introduce himself
“Hello dear, what is your name?”
“Y/n”
“Now do you mind offering me your hand?”
“My hand?”
He looked a bit impatient but smiled, a creepy smile but smiled nevertheless. “Well you see I have gift of being able to look at every thought and memory with just a touch”
“Oh, I see”
I offered my hand and was instantly reliving my every thought and memory as he said but as for my incidents with Edward, Alice, and the twins I could see his every thought and memory. I saw that he wanted Alice to be part of his coven, he was thinking of just forgiving the Cullens, I even saw memories of the handsome guard who I found out his name is Demetri. It just rolls out so naturally, it's as if I was born to say his name. Aro let go of my hand after a while with a bewildered look
“Interessante, I’m sorry for the troubles you been through, but it appears you have two gifts–”
Before he could continue, the sad looking vampire rested a hand on Aro’s shoulder and he turned to him to grab his hand like he did with me. With this case when I looked at the emotionless vampire I was able to see a red string that was connecting me and Demetri. It was the richests of red I have ever seen, come to think about it, it looks like his eyes. When he let go, Aro made one of the creepiest laughs I have ever heard to humankind, straight from a horror film. 
“It appears our own Demetri has found his mate”
If I could I would shiver at the mention of Demetri’s name. The mentioned name looked at the kings with anticipation, I mean I for sure wanted answers of what is going to happen.
“Felix you can let her go now, she’s no danger to us, on the contrary she’s going to join us”
I was let go by Felix “Join you? Why?”
“Well you see dear you are the mate to one of our guards, and we would hate for him to be miserable or lack on his missions if his mate is not kept safe, maybe with time you could join him in missions”
If I'm getting this straight, if I don't join then my ‘mate’, that’s a strong word to use, will be sad and won't be able to do his job correctly. Or I stay with the people who basically kidnapped me from the life I had, turned me into this bloodthirsty monster –currently I am still thirsty– and just threw me into a situation that I was nowhere prepared for. But again I don't even know Demetri, what if he’s cruel, what if he treats me like the Cullens? My thoughts started to spiral at a point where I was one with my mind and nothing around me existed anymore. If it weren't for the husky addicting voice I would have gone mental.
“Master? May I have a word with her?”
“Go ahead, she’s your mate after all”
I felt the warmth of his soft yet rough hands. I looked into his eyes and he gave me a small hesitant smile, oh I can get used to that. I need to see his real smile now.
“Hello cariño, I am Demetri, I am aware you know nothing about me neither do I about you, but I can promise you if you come with me and my coven, I will give you anything you want, give you a life humans can never come close to having, I will promise you an eternity of love and happiness”
So this is love? The way he speaks is straight from a romance novel. And the way his face glows makes it all more sincere and truthful, heck I just want to run away with him. I was about to say something to him when I heard them. The Cullens along with their witnesses whispering about me.
“A traitor”
“All that hard work to get her here for her just to abandon us”
“I knew there was something off about her”
“Carlisle do something”
“She can’t go”
“If she goes with them, then the Volturi have more power”
“She would be stupid to go with them”
“Indeed”
“She was a mistake”
I wanted to use that gift to disappear at that moment, I didn't ask to be placed in this situation to start off with. I was forced and manipulated. 
“You promise”
His hesitant smile turned genuine “I promise amore, forever and always”
Aro literally was beaming with anticipation for my decision, reminding me of a child waiting for the final decision of their parents to let them go to a sleepover at a friend's house. I nodded which caused Aro to clap with joy 
“Magnifico my dear” His attention turned to the vampires behind me “She will be coming with us, if you dare interfere, we will wipe you out without hesitation”
Ok that’s scary but I can tell he’s serious. I could see the blonde king with a proud smirk but Demetri pulled me into his side.
“Nobody will ever take you away from me from now on”
I gave him a weak smile as we walked off the snowy battleground. I didn't ask for this new life, but maybe it won't be so bad with him. 
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skyahri · 2 months ago
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Haunted |Satoru Gojo X Reader (?)| HC
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Summary: Yuuji swears he's being haunted by the ghost of a little girl.
Warnings: Eh, it's mostly Yuuji content. Found family comfort dort of thing. All fluff, all Itadori being stupid.
Masterlist Ko-fi
- - - - -
Yuuji harshly rubbed his eyes, trying to get the blur to recede as quickly as possible. His other hand reached across his nightstand, knocking over a few figures as he tries to switch on his lamp. When his vision clears and his room is well lit, he's finally able to focus his sight on the doorway.
He swears he could feel someone staring at him. While the room and corridor were pitch black and he couldn't make out any details, the small silhouette made it clear that it was a child. Unfortunately, by the time he had caught his bearings, the figure was gone and there was nothing left in the dark hallway.
He got up peaked out into the hall. When nothing caught his eye, he pulled his door shut, clicking the lock into place and giving it a tug just to ease his nerves. It's probably best that he start making sure to do that every night.
The scare had left him on edge and he found himself tossing and turning the rest of the night. Maybe Megumi was right about watching scary movies before bed... not that he'd admit that to him.
He decided to keep the odd encounter (if it could even be called that) to himself out of fear of being ridiculed by his friends. They already gave him a lot of shit as is. Telling them about the ghost child who visited him last night was sure to end poorly for him, especially since he had no proof.
While the daylight had mostly kept the anxiety at bay, the dread of night brought it all back full force. That night, in a desperate attempt to lessen his paranoia, Yuuji made his way to the kitchen for some tea. The kettle was set, chamomile ready to be steeped, and now all that was left to do was lose himself in his thoughts while he waited.
The rational part of his brain was trying to convince him that he was being stupid- that there were no spooky ghost kids running around Jujutsu High, but he couldn't shake it off that easily. He'd had his fair share of nightmares, and this felt starkly different than any of those. It was far more real than anything he'd experienced before.
Just as the water began to steam, he felt that same eerie change in the air.
He peered around the open entryway, raking his eyes over everything he could make out in the darkness. Just as he was about to chalk the whole thing up to his shot nerves, he saw it- a flash of white moving towards the first year's dorms.
With no plan in mind or any regard for his own safety, he bolted after the cause of his anxiety, chasing it down a maze of hallways before the lead eventually ran cold. It's like the entity had vanished into thin air, not a single sound or residual left behind.
Though he was spooked to his core, he at least knew that he had, in fact, seen something last night.
As he made his way back towards the kitchen, he debated what to do with this newfound information. While he was entirely sure that he was being haunted, he still couldn't take this issue to Megumi or Nobara. They were nonbelievers and would use the opportunity to pick on him even more than they already did.
He had no choice but to deal with the situation himself.
That's how he found himself crouched next to his open bedroom door at two am the next day. He'd stayed up all night in preparation for what he dubbed as 'The Hunt' and he was now in the height of it all.
It wasn't long before he heard the pitter-patter of small feet, further confirming that this ghost must be a child. He fixed his posture and moved to a more suitable angle as the steps grew closer. When he saw the faintest bit of white hair illuminated by moonlight, he darted out, grabbing the creature by its calf and hoisting it into the air.
"Gotcha!"
Before he could reach the light switch in his room, it let out a loud, ear piercing scream. He had half a mind not to immediately drop it in an attempt to protect his hearing.
Alerted by the commotion, Megumi's door slid open and two Hell Hounds tumbled out. They raced towards him, only stopping just short of the pair. The brunette wasn't too far behind, his hands fixed in a bird-like position in preparation for whatever could be going on.
In the newfound light from his room, Yuuji finally got a good look at what had been following him all this time. Long white hair, fair skin, and pale blue eyes. The little girl was ghostly for sure.
"Itadori? What the Hell are you doing?"
"I caught the ghost that's been haunting me!"
"... what?"
Megumi, realizing that there was no actual threat, lowered his hands and released his dogs. While his posture became less rigid as the adrenaline slowly left his body, Yuuji's only seemed to increase, the stupid look on his becoming more dramatic.
He shook her back and forth like a freshly caught fish, completely oblivious to the panicked tears gathering in her eyes.
"A ghost, Fushiguro! I caught it!"
"That's my sister, idiot."
"Your sister is a ghost?!"
Megumi resisted the urge to punch him, opting to free the poor kid from his monstrous grip instead. He took a firm hold of her and gently flipped her into a more comfortable position. She didn't hesitate to cling to him, hugging him tight and burying her face into his neck.
"No, she isn't a ghost."
"But, she was staring into my room the other night!"
"It's a big school. She probably got confused on the way to my room and couldn't see."
"She was running through the halls in the middle of the night! She totally disappeared when I chased her!"
"She's scared of the dark, probably wanted to get out of it as fast as possible. And she didn't disappear, she just came into my room."
"She's so, so... pale!"
"Yeah, it's a clan thing."
Yuuji stared between the visible portion of the girl's face and Megumi's. He brought his thumb and forefinger to his chin and narrowed his eyes.
"I thought the Zen'in were all dark hair and brooding? And you said Tsumiki was older than you!"
"Are you being serious right now?"
Yuuji had the gall to look offended. Megumi, while typically mild-mannered, is actually close to snapping. It's the middle of the night, his sister is upset, and Itadori's brain is running even slower than usual.
He sighs and grips the little girl tighter. His face must portray how irritated he is, because Yuuji starting to visibly sweat. He looks nervous, if not a little ashamed. It must be dawning on him how absolutely ridiculous this whole ordeal is.
"First of all, you've only met me and Maki. Zen'in don't have a standard look. Second, Tsumiki is older. This is Saori. I have two sisters. Third, she's very obviously Gojo's kid."
"Gojo has a kid?"
If looks could kill, Itadori Yuuji would be a dead man right now.
"Yes. She's staying on the grounds while Gojo and Y/N are away on business. Were you not paying attention when Yaga was explaining this last week?"
Heat flooded Yuuji's face. No, he hadn't been listening. Megan Thee Stallion's new album had just dropped and he had his headphones in throughout the entire meeting. He shifted on his feet, not knowing how to answer without further infuriating his friend.
Megumi let out the most exhausted sigh he could manage and glared at the pink haired boy.
"Go to bed, Itadori."
He turned around a took a single step forward before pausing. He swiveled his body just enough to side-eye Yuuji. The look was different than the one from a moment ago. It was more pointed, damn near threatening.
"And Itadori?"
"Y-yes?"
"If you ever scare my sister like this again, I'll be sitting front row of your execution with popcorn."
And with that, he went straight into his dorm, gently sliding the door shut behind him and leaving Yuuji in the dark.
He couldn't help but think that, while Fushiguro's threat was still heavy in the air, at least he didn't have to worry about the ghost anymore.
- - - - -
"Yuuji!"
Said teenager whipped around, his smile growing even bigger at the sight of his favorite teacher. For just a moment, the recent slipped his mind. He was too caught up in the crushing hug Gojo had caught him in.
"I heard Saori gave you quite the scare, kid."
As predicted, he'd been teased relentlessly over the past few days. Word about the supposed ghost and its not-so-heroic capture spread pretty quickly (small school and all). By lunch, everyone had made more than their fair share of jokes at his expense.
"Please don't tell me you're going to make fun of me too, Gojo-sensei,"
The older man laughed at the pouty face Yuuji sported. He set the boy on the ground and let one his big hands come down on top of his head to ruffle the pink locks.
"Wouldn't dream of it!"
Relief drowned out any lingering worry, but it was quickly washed away when Gojo leaned in a little too close to his face, a sinister smile stretching across his face. He used his index finger to pull his blindfold up just enough to make eye contact.
"No, see, I came here to tell you that Saori is my baby girl, and if you ever manhandle her like that again,"
He paused, a bone-chilling chuckle falling from his lips.
"Let's just say I'll make sure you have a closed casket at your funeral."
Before the words could even process in his mind, Gojo was already securing the cloth back into place. His typical grin had returned and stepped back to greet the incoming second years.
Yuuji visibly gulped. What was it with people threatening him? It was an honest mistake!
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cillianhead · 1 year ago
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Hey hey, I just found your blog and I really like your writing - especially Sitting Pretty since I'm a sucker for those Crane fics. :3
Would you maybe be up for some kind of comfort/fluff fic with Crane?
I am always up for some comfort/fluff when it comes to Dr Jonathan Crane. He's so babygirl <3
Anyway, I hope you enjoy.... thank you so much for your request!
Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby || Jonathan Crane x Reader
warnings: none really, some brief mentions of violence, crying, angsty but also fluffy and comforting at the end, not really anything that bad to be honest, sort of non-canonical to anything that actually happened in the films.
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It had been around a week since you had seen your boyfriend of three years. This was the longest you had gone without seeing Jonathan, without even hearing a peep from him. You even went to his work, he hadn't been there either. You knew what sort of dangerous work he did outside of Arkham and also within it, you knew the dangers and the risks he faced every time he left your apartment. You were still hopelessly devoted to him, despite the bad things that he has done and continues to do. You knew he would never hurt you. Him being gone felt like someone had ripped your heart out... like your soul was slowly being eaten away. Where was he? Was he even still alive? No. You mustn't think like that.
It was only a week, maybe he just needed some time away. Though he would've at least taken time off work, surely? His work told you he hadn't called in sick but he was supposed to be there. But he wasn't.
You hadn't cried. You found yourself growing more and more numb to the absence of Jonathan. It was like your body trying to reject a foreign object, trying to spit him out of your heart. It was painful and agonizingly slow, you knew you could never get over him, especially if you never got to say goodbye. His things lying around your apartment were a painful reminder of the fact he was gone. And he probably was never coming back.
You hadn't slept, at least not very well, in four days. You'd barely been eating either, maybe a stale cracker or two every now and then but you couldn't bring yourself to eat any proper meals. The best you could do was stare at the tiled wall as you stood in the scalding hot shower, trying to burn away the grief.
With the growing hunger and the fact you barely slept, paranoia was also sprouting within you, like some sort of sickly weed. You were worried that if Jonathan had been captured, whatever got him, was coming for you next. Every tiny little noise, every rumble, or car horn outside sent you running to the comfort of your shared bed. The one that smelt like him. You really couldn't sleep. Every shadow looked like some sort of evil horned figure ready to devour you whole, your eyes wide and frozen, helplessly full of fear. You thought about how Jonathan would assess this situation, how nerdy he got when you were afraid, in its own way you found it comforting the way he explained the body's reaction to fear and the way he explained the mind's power over the body.
The sleep you did get would be full of nightmares or vividly heartbreaking dreams. There was one you couldn't get over, a dream so sweet, more like a memory than anything else. Jonathan coming home from work, taking off his clothes and crawling into bed with you. His hands caressed your back softly, arms cradling you like you could shatter at any moment if he held you too tight. It felt so painfully real, that even when you began to wake up you could still feel him there. Still feeling his arms around you.
"Jonathan..." You whispered a sigh of relief, his arms pulled away from you as your heart raced with joy. Sitting up and looking around to find yourself just as alone as you had been for the past week. That's when you began to cry. "Jonathan..." You sobbed into your hands, you couldn't fall asleep after that. It was four in the morning, and the room was pretty much pitch black as you cried to yourself like a baby needing its mother.
Even more time passed. You were hysterical, you didn't pick up your phone when your friends called, you didn't leave the house, you didn't eat, and you most definitely didn't sleep. You were in bad shape, to say the least. It was that time of the year when the rain began to pour, your glass walls showed the bruised sky and the lightning it unleashed upon Gotham. You didn't work, Jonathan insisted on you staying at home, for him to provide for you. You were pretty happy staying at home and doing as you pleased. But now... it felt so different, there was no one to come home to you. You were pretty certain that the love of your life had died and you were going to spend the rest of your time alone. You knew you could never love again.
As if the sky knew how you felt, it only rained harder, it rained for days and it never stopped. You sat on the couch with a blanket draped over you as you lifelessly stared out at the dark sky. It was the middle of the night, and you thought about sweet nothings you and Jonathan shared. You thought about how lucky you were to see that side of him, so lucky you weren't on the other end, seeing the scarecrow, full of fear toxin. You thought about Jonathan humming while he made you pancakes, thought about the way he wrote you love letters almost every morning before he left for work, thought about the way you both were ready to get married soon. You remembered him holding your stomach while you brushed your teeth before bed and saying in that beautiful voice of his; "One day, you and I, are gonna have a bunch of beautiful babies and we'll live far far away from here. Everything will be perfect."
You sobbed and nothing brought you out of it. The pain in your chest was unbearable, no stupid fucking sad song or badly written poem could ever express it. There was no comprehensible word in any language that could truly explain away the agony you were in. You were no longer paranoid that something was going to come and hurt you, in fact, if there was someone or something out there coming to get you, you'd happily let it come in and put you out of your goddamn misery.
It was two soft raps on your bedroom window from the fire escape that caught your attention. You froze and stopped your crying, listening for it again, wondering if maybe you were just hearing things.
It's when you hear them again that you manage to stand up on shaky legs and wander into your bedroom that you see a shadow, leaning its weight against the window tiredly. It was him. With all the energy you could muster up, you ran to the window and slid it open before grabbing ahold of him and pulling him into your bedroom. You felt like you were going to have a heart attack.
"Y/N," Jonathan whispered. You didn't say a word, just turned on the lamp to light up the room. If this was a dream, you were going to try and enjoy every second of it. If this was the only way you could see your Jonny then you would take in every moment. "I... I missed you." And when you turned around, ready to scold him, ready to scream your lungs out at him for being gone, your heart broke all over again. His clothes were torn and covered in dried-up blood. Jonathan's neck was covered in bruises in the shape of handprints and his eyes were tired and void of any life. "Jonathan..." You whimpered, approaching him, he winced a bit as you placed your hands softly on his face. "Where have you been? What happened to you?" You were going to be angry at him before but now you understood... it wasn't his fault. He was soaking wet and you could see he had been crying too.
"I... I can't... really remember... I was drugged..." He mumbled, Jonathan's fingers curled around your waist and pulled you into a bone-crunching hug. He breathed you in, embracing you again was the only medicine he needed. Holding you was the only thing that could tell him was truly okay. "The Batman got me... I don't know how I managed to escape... just ended up here... I've been walking for days."
"Jonny..." You were crying as you sat him gently down on the bed. "I thought you..." You whispered. The strength was not in you to say it. "I thought you were..."
"Dead?" Jonathan croaked out, his voice was hoarse in a way that told you he had spent days on end screaming, from the torture he had been put through. "Yeah, me too." He said dryly.
You helped him undress. The clothes were pretty much useless so you tossed them on the floor in a pile to throw away later. "Let me clean you up..."
"No." He said. "Not right now..." Jonathan shook his head as he grabbed you and pulled you into his chest as you laid down in the bed with him again. "I just need to feel you..." His voice broke and in the process, your heart broke too. You could hear how defeated he was. "Need to feel you there." You understood, not saying another word as you clung to him. You listened to the sound of his heart, ear pressed right against his bare and bruised chest. You heard him sniffle, immediately causing you to pull away. "Oh, baby..." You cooed sadly, brushing a tear off his wounded cheek. The dam gates were open now as he began to cry, wincing at the salty tears mixing in with his busted face. "I'm so sorry... I'm so sorry that happened to you... I was so worried... you're here now... you're here with me... my baby."
"I thought about you every second," He sobbed. Jonathan looked like a helpless little child at that moment, his blue eyes were pitiful. "I thought I was going to die... thought I was never gonna get the chance to say goodbye to you..."
Together you sat crying, both with relief and sorrow as the rain poured outside, the heaven's crying with you. Everything felt okay again, for the both of you, now that you were with one another. "It's okay, Jonny." You tried to console him. Things had happened to him before, he'd been beaten up or caught in dangerous situations but he usually came home shrugging it off, this time you could tell he was severely traumatized, you could tell this was going to take a while for him to get over. Jonathan had that thousand-yard stare, that mischievous fire that usually lit up his eyes had been extinguished and now reflected the dreary weather outside. "I love you, baby, it's okay... nothing's ever going to hurt you again." You whispered, he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips. You kissed him as gently as you could, knowing his lip was swollen and split open, you could taste the metallic blood from his mouth and the saltiness of his tears.
"Y/N..." Jonathan wept, his face now buried in between your neck and your jaw. "It hurts." The tone of his voice was the most heart-shattering thing you'd ever heard.
"I know, my baby," You hushed as you laid back down again, caressing his hair that was still wet from the rain. "Nothing will ever hurt you again." You reassured once again. "Nothing's going to take you from my side."
You cried your own tears of sadness, relieved he was back in your arms, relieved that you were there to take care of him and nurse him back to health. The morning sun had begun to rise by the time you two had properly nestled into your bed, skin pressed together, legs intertwined. Jonathan slept in your arms, you held him like a baby, you couldn't sleep, too happy to have him in your arms again.
"As long as you're with me, you'll be just fine..." You whispered softly into his hair.
-
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ginandtobacco · 2 months ago
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Lips as Red as Blood
@erisweekofficial
Day Six: Retellings
Pairing: Eris x reader
Summary: A female in a glass coffin with hair as dark as ebony wood and lips as red as blood. Cursed trees with pitch black apples that melt from the branches and fill the clearing with the scent of rot. And Eris Vanserra; who just wants to go home to his dogs.
Word Count: 1.7k
Author's Note: a little late, my bad
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Eris really should have expected things to get weird. Weirder than just popping over to the continent to kill a seemingly immortal death god trapped in a crumbling palace in the middle of a cursed lake. If he was being quite honest, killing Koschei hadn’t even been that weird. Bloody, and difficult, and his arm was definitely still bleeding, but just the usual mind-breaking cauldron-created magic he’d come to expect from the Archeron sisters by now.
Perhaps it was a failure of imagination on his part, or a lack of his usual paranoia now that Beron was firmly six feet under, but he hadn’t thought things would get weird after Koschei died. 
They’d found his soul stored in an unnaturally red apple (par for the course) hidden in the laboratory/torture chamber beneath the ancient stone palace (also not surprising) and when Elain Archeron had driven the ancient sword Gwydion (of course she had it) through Koschei’s apple/soul abomination all of the caged demonic creatures in the laboratory had turned into human females (the intended outcome but they were all a bit surprised it actually worked).
Now, however, they were all scouring the small island in the lake searching for humans that had been unceremoniously transformed back into their original bodies without any warning. Eris was using this as an excuse to escape from the oppressive tension between the shadowsinger, Elain Archeron, and his brother. Only the night court could manage to turn a world-rescue mission into yet another opportunity for interpersonal drama.
The fact that the forest seemed to be composed only of overgrown apple trees should have been his first sign that things would continue to be strange. The fact that the apples had been red when they’d first arrived on this cauldron-forsaken island and were now black and slowly melting from the branches should have been his second sign. But Eris was far too busy congratulating himself on being above the sorts of childish drama that Rhysand and his followers seemed to constantly create everywhere they went. He was quite pleased with himself for managing to escape before they dragged him into whatever uncomfortable argument was no doubt beginning.
The clearing in the middle of the forest was what had given him pause. The trees around the perimeter were taller than any apple trees ought to be, towering over the perfectly circular clearing, their branches reaching out to each other like spindly fingers and tangling together far above his head. The sky was almost entirely blocked out by emerald leaves and midnight-black apples. The only sunlight that managed to pierce through the canopy shone in a perfect circle at the center of the clearing; illuminating a pristine glass coffin.
This was a type of strangeness Eris had not prepared himself for. It was the magic of times long past, when Prythian was a land of magic that flowed from the earth like sweet wine and High Kings wielded cauldron-made swords. It was the sort of magic he expected to find between the pages of the storybooks he’d read Lucien when he was small, not staring him in the face after he thought they’d finally created a bit of peace in the world.
The worst part was that he could feel the magic of this place. It hung heavy in the air, clinging to the trees and his skin like cigar smoke. The curse intensified the cloying sweetness of the rotting apples, filling his nose with their saccharine scent and making his eyes water. It was oppressive in a way he hadn’t felt since Amarantha had first cast her curse under the mountain. The pure volume of magic in the clearing threatening to suffocate even a newly minted High Lord under its weight.
Suddenly, he was standing above the glass coffin. Eris had no memory of crossing the clearing, no memory of even considering doing so, but now he felt the coolness of the glass beneath his palm. The thrall of the curse and the scent of the apples ebbed slightly, and he kicked himself for being stupid enough to wander into a curse. He should have known better, should have been more careful about walking around the island of a death god. But if he was already in the middle of this curse, it couldn’t hurt to investigate it a bit more.
A young fae female peered up at him through the glass. Well, her eyes were closed and she was probably dead so she wasn’t looking at anything, but Eris could see her face. Fae ages were terrible things. She looked twenty-five, but for all he knew she was a thousand year old tyrant who’d been imprisoned here for bathing in the blood of newborns to keep from aging. Or perhaps she really was twenty-five, barely an adult in fae terms, and Koschei had locked her here for some twisted reason.
It was odd though, there was something in the sharp planes of his face that bothered him. Like he had seen her before and couldn’t quite recall the event, or perhaps that she resembled someone he already knew? 
Perhaps it was her hair, he thought. Hair as black as ebony wood lay in gentle waves around her face. Or maybe her lips, as red as blood. Perhaps she shared those features with someone he had met once. Eris had lived a long life, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.
He doubted she was evil. It was nothing more than a hunch based on the fact that Koschei had a penchant for cursing innocent young females, not elderly tyrants. Eris wouldn’t admit it but it was also based upon the shape of her blood-red lips, the way they were tugged ever so slightly downwards. People were meant to look peaceful, at rest, in death; but this female looked as if her natural expression was one of distrust and worry. 
It endeared her to him, which struck him as a very Lucien-esque impulse. Saving feral cats from wells, nursing baby birds back to health, befriending cursed humans; those were all things kind, caring, Lucien with his heart permanently affixed to his sleeve did. Refusing to help mutilated fiancées, meticulously planned patricide, mouthing off and getting himself strangled by an angry shadowsinger; those were the things in Eris’s wheelhouse, not empathy.
But this female, with her once golden skin turned ashen and grey with death, was inspiring such strong feelings of empathy from him. It was probably the curse, he knew this. Eris wasn’t an idiot, he could feel the way the magic still clung to him like heavy smoke, sinking deep into his lungs and perfuming his clothes. It muddled his mind, holding him here and twisting his thoughts back to this female. 
But as he dragged his hand across the cool glass of the coffin he could tell that there was something more about her that was drawing him in. More than just this strange magic, more than just whatever curse Koschei had cast on her. Something more than just this magic that was bewitching him. Something more about her that made him deeply curious about who she was. He wasn’t quite sure what it was and it aggravated him that he was unable to identify it.
Eris’s lithe fingers traced their way across the coffin, pausing as he encountered a sunken texture on the glass. Carved into the smooth surface were words, as crisp and pristine as when they’d been written:
Fairest of them all
Her father’s bargain came to call.
Poison’s kiss and magic’s slumber
Keep this fair maiden under.
A worthy prize
Many have tried.
Only true love that bleeds red
Will raise this princess from the dead.
“Curiouser and curiouser,” Eris mumbled to himself as he read the strange poem. It wasn’t very good, all things considered, but he didn’t think Koschei had been concerned about his little rhyme when he’d cursed her.
It wasn’t exactly carelessness that had caused Eris to forget about the wound on his arm; moreso his insatiable curiosity about the strange coffin in the woods. Or probably it was the magic that twined itself through his thoughts. It wanted him to forget the bleeding gash on his arm, wanted him to stand right there above the coffin; too deep in his own thoughts and this strange magic to think of anything else. 
He remembered it now though, as he watched a single droplet of his blood fall onto the glass below.
It was horrifying, really, the moment the curse released its hold on his mind and he realized just how screwed he was. The single drop of blood began to spread across the carved words. It was unnatural, the blood seemed to be growing and multiplying in order to slowly fill each carved out letter. It was like rot taking root in the trunk of a tree; growing and spreading until it took over.
Panic. Panic and resignation to his own stupid choices filled him as he looked on helplessly; the last letter slowly filling until the entire damned poem was glistening red. What monster was he unleashing on the world? Something that scared Koschei enough to trap it in this state? He had endlessly criticized Rhysand for letting that thing, Bryaxis, out into the world; but this had the potential to be far worse.
The blood grew, sinking into the coffin lid and spreading, tinging it in transparent crimson before dissolving the glass entirely. As it disappeared Eris watched the face of the female below, resigned to whatever fate the cauldron had in store for him.
It wasn’t dramatic. Just a few moments of held breaths before the color returned to the female’s face all at once. Death’s pallor chased away in the blink of an eye, leaving behind tanned golden skin and warm life beneath it.
Her eyes blinked open. Eris stared back. 
Her eyes blinked open. Eris heard the plucking of a single violin string, a golden chord stretching between them.
Her eyes blinked open. Eris was certain this female would not kill him, but that he was a dead male regardless.
Her eyes blinked open. 
They were violet.
Eris Vanserra began to laugh.
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edgeray · 5 months ago
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hii edge! is it possible if i request an arlecchino/reader with beauty & the beast au :0? thank you so much in advance aaaaaa i love your writing so much it always makes my day^^
To Break a Curse
(Arlecchino x GN! Reader)
A/N - Hi anon! Of course, here's going to be my reminder that if you request from me again as an anon, give yourself a name/emoji :). So I technically have already made a beauty and beast au (here is the link), but I suppose I could just rewrite the concept. The original au did differ a lot from the ‘disney’ version so for this one, so for this one, I will actually try to align this more with the disney version. Slightly dark because I'm not going to have talking kettles and candlesticks in here. Will be assuming gn! reader for this. Also I'm glad that you enjoy my works and bit sorry for the delay ^^ I am so sorry the ending is shitty at the end I am deadass about to fall asleep, I was this close 🤏 to falling asleep. I was typing with my eyes close lol. It's like 3:30AM for me so I'm gonna hit the hay. Maybe I should stop writing these at 12AM lol.  Content warnings / info - mean arle at the start, semi-graphic violence, prolly forgetting something but I'm tired, 2.7k words 
You've heard of the rumored forsaken prince, everyone in your village has. People rarely mention her by name, opting to call the cursed prince ‘the Beast,’ based on her animal-like claws and her temperament–just as vicious as a feral beast. The castle which she alone resides in sits on the outskirts of the forest next to your village. Every villager warns you to never trespass into the Beast's territory, unless you wished to never return. However, you've never believed in the existence of the Beast and her castle--after all, you've gone to the forests numerous times and have never encountered her. Perhaps this was just a way to scare off children from getting lost. 
Today, you learned how wrong you were. Venturing into the forest to forage for your dinner, you had accidentally delved too deep into the forest, now lost. Night approached soon as you searched for an escape or a shelter, but your search was unsuccessful.
Trudging through the forest, you heave for breath, your feet aching from traversing the rough terrain of the forest, not helped by the uncomfortable shoes you chose to wear. You thought that the foraging wouldn't take long but you found a large patch of mushrooms that led you deeper into the forest than you intended. You gaze up at the sky, it being pitch black with only the moonlight and the stars guiding you through. 
The shadows produced by the trees unnerve you, your imagination and paranoia warping them into abstract monsters stalking you. You know that there is nothing in the forest that can hurt you, unless the rare bear, but the knowledge didn't soothe you any more. You feel something hit your forehead–something light and small… and wet. It takes a couple more droplets before you realize it’s now downpouring. You bite your lip out of frustration, wrapping your arms around yourself to store as much body heat to yourself. Your footsteps speed up and you look more frantically, until you see something imposing in the distance. It's hard to make out in the fog, but it seems like the outline of some sort of building. 
You run towards it, only to be faced with a wall. You follow along it until you reach a gate, and behind the gate, you can vaguely make out a structure larger and more obscene than anything you've ever seen before; it looks nothing like the village establishments. If anything, it dwarfs your entire village as a whole, likely massive enough to fit your village inside based on the height alone. At least this would provide you shelter from the rain and cold, is the only consideration you make before pushing open the gates and rushing down the stone path. 
You nearly trip over the stone passage and as you arrive at the entrance, you soon realize it’s a castle. Its uncanny shape now makes some sense, but from then on lack of light through the windows, it seems like no one lives here. You press on, entering the castle. You’re thankful you're no longer being pelted by the rain and then you're immediately struck with awe from the decor and grandiose of the interior. Although the castle is unlit, you're still able to make out some details of the room you enter. Admiring the spiral staircase and the magnificent pillars, a thought strikes you. Why does no one inhabit the castle? 
Abruptly, there is the sound of something shuffling and it makes your marveling halt. Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach and fear clenches onto you tightly as the incessant terror of not being as alone as you though plagues you. Spinning around, you search for the origins of the sound only to scare yourself when you accidentally kick against a piece of furniture. You yelp out, before silencing yourself when you cognize it was nothing. 
And then a thud. And another, coming from behind you. Paralysis enraptures your body and before you have the time to breathe, a heavy weight crashes into you, making you tumble into the ground. You let out a scream, turning around to view what just struck you, and two glowing red orbs stare back at you. You gasp wildly, trying to scramble away when your throat is suddenly tightened and you're forced against the ground. It feels like claws are just barely brushing against your neck, threatening to puncture into you if you so much as breathe. A whimper escapes you and a whispered plea escapes you as you lock your eyes on the pair of red. 
“P-please…” 
A deep, resounding voice responds to you, causing shivers down your body. “What are you doing in my home?”
Tears well in your eyes and you try your best to speak as clearly as possible. “I-I'm sorry. I didn't k-know! I'll go, p-please let me go!” You beg, your hands raise to pry off the hand over your throat but a feral growl stops you. 
“Do you know whose home you intruded into?” 
You shake your head. The grip around your neck intensifies for a few moments.
“Speak.”
“N-no…” 
“This is my castle, Prince Arlecchino's. Though, the villagers like to call me something else… what was it, ‘the Beast?’”
You suck in an audible breath as your eyes grow wide. This is the Beast? The Beast is real? Then are the rumors of people disappearing in the castle true as well? What will happen to you? Your mind goes into a frenzy, with all the wonderings of what the Beast would do to you.
“P-please don't kill m-me…”
“Kill you? No,” the Beast answers coldly. The hold on your throat slackens and the Beast’s hand slips away. “I won't kill you. But you've trespassed my home. And for that, you will remain here, for the rest of your life.” 
“W-what? B-but,” you breath is caught when you feel a tug on your arm pulling you up to your feet, the same claws that pressed against your neck digs shallowly into your arm, making you wince. 
“This is your punishment,” the Beast says, its red pupils glaring down at you coldly. You gulp, but accept your fate. The Beast could easily kill you with one swipe of her hand. 
“Follow,” it instructs, and you do, trailing behind the Beast as it navigates the dark surroundings effortlessly, a testament to how long it's been here. You trip over another piece of furniture, making you stumble onto the ground. 
“I'm sorry–” you stammer out an apology immediately.
“Be quiet,” gruffed the Beast. You scramble to get up but feel yourself hoisted up, by the Beast presumably. You yelp from the sudden position, now carried in a bridal style–its hold is surprisingly gentle and its claws don't prick you.
“Where are you taking me?” You inquire, clutching onto the Beast’s shoulder–which for some reason shocks you that it’s firm just like any other human, although you know that the Beast is a human–when it goes up the staircase. 
“A guest chamber.”
“A guest chamber?” 
“Would you prefer the dungeon?”
“No… thank you… Prince Arlecchino.”
The Beast pauses its movements, halting in place. 
Your thoughts flood with anxiety, wondering if this would trigger a violent reaction from the Beast. “Did I offend you? I’m sorry, I really am.” 
“No. It's just been a long while since someone referred to me from my title.” The Beast continues walking, unaware of how its–her–words shattered your mindset. 
That's right, how could you forget? ‘The Beast’ is still a human, cursed or not. Perhaps Prince Arlecchino deserved being inflicted by a curse, but you could not imagine yourself with the fate instilled on the forsaken prince, nor being singularly called ‘the Beast’ by every waking person. It's dehumanizing and awfully isolating, and it makes you question how long it has been since she's been called that, how long it has been since she has been seen as a human. 
It makes your heart ache. 
You count the flight of stairs that she goes up, and then for the first time, you see orange light coming from one of the rooms at the end of a corridor–an open fire likely. As the Prince walks closer to the room, you're able to make out more details; it's a bedroom, but more apparently, you can finally see her. You tilt your head up, and you expectedly, yet unexpectedly at once, you view a very princely face: pale, flawless skin framed by snow white hair and ebony strands, and sharp jaw. Prince Arlecchino glances down at you, sharp cross-shaped pupils burrowing into you. Her expression seems curious of yours. 
“You do look like a prince…” you think out loud absentmindedly, your face flushing as you realize your verbalization. 
The Prince says nothing, thankfully, and doesn't note your fluster. You look away from her face and glance at her hands. Like you've heard from the villagers, they are black, as if dipped in ink and her nails are red claws. Though what the villagers have yet to mention was the markings on her forearm, which are, admittedly, entrancing. She finally sets you down once she enters her chamber, which is obviously well-lived in. 
Taking a nearby candle holder and a few logs of wood set nearby the hearth the Prince silently exits her room to go into the room next to hers. You follow her into the room, this one obviously not used but still has a lot of furniture. Using the logs and the candlestick, she ignites the hearth and what you assume is going to be your room fills with heat and light. 
“This is your room from now on. Do not ask for me for the rest of the night,” she gruffs, and closes the door behind her. Her footsteps go away towards the direction of her bedroom. 
You blink, reality setting in. You’re still in your wet clothes, but you can't do much but strip and wrap yourself in dry sheets. You do exactly that, before sinking into the bed. It's like how you imagine sinking into a cloud to be–you fall to slumber in the manner of minutes. 
— 
You do not see her until the next morning, when the sun finally peaks out and you're able to see where you walk. Exiting your room, you note that she's not in her chamber, and you wander the castle. A whiff of something metallic combined with a musk catches your attention and you travel down the stairs until you reach the ground floor. You spot a figure crouched over something, and when you near the sight more, you discover the Prince hunched over a deer carcass. A sickening rip makes you cringe as a limb is torn off from the body. 
“P-prince?” You ask hesitantly. The Prince turns, a calm expression over her face. Only a bit of blood smears her lips. 
“Yes?” 
“What are you doing?” 
“Eating. It is also for you.” 
You stew in silence long enough for the Prince to turn back and resume. “Prince Arlecchino, how long have you been surviving like this?” 
“Since I was cursed.” 
Your heart aches again. “It is raw.”
“Indeed.” 
“It cannot be good for you.”
“It is all I have.” 
It is a sad sight. You think that ‘the Beast’ fits her the best here, like a starved animal instead of a human trying to live. 
“Prince Arlecchino, if you allow me, I can improve your eating experience. It would be healthier for you and it would be more appealing to eat.” 
The Prince perks up her head, glancing back at you.
That day, the Prince learns of the wonders of cooked venison. And perhaps, you've never seen a brighter, warmer light than the one that glints in the Prince's at her first taste. 
“What is it that you're reading?” 
Arlecchino glances up from her book. “It is a romance novel.”
“I didn't think that you'd be interested in such things, Prince.” 
“You grow curious about things you do not have.” 
You frown and contemplate. It seems like… she's always wanted company. “Prince, may I ask you why you chose to isolate yourself here?”
The Prince remains quiet for several moments before she responds, in a voice uncharacteristically quiet. “The villagers do not accept my appearance.”
“Because of your curse?”
“Yes. They’re afraid of me. Of my eyes, of my hands. Of my strength.” 
“Have you not tried undoing the curse?”
She bitterly laughs. “There is nothing that breaks the curse. It is impossible.”
You narrow your eyes. “There must be something. There's no such thing as an unbreakable curse.”
“You are right. However, the conditions to break this one is… unobtainable.”
“What is it?”
 The Prince's gaze shifts from you to the stack of books that pile by her bedside. You recognize some of the titles from your village library–they were all in the romance category. You never realize until now that the Prince looks at them with a hopeless longing. “To be loved and to love, is what it is in simple terms.”
There is that heartache again. 
You shake your head, trying to any more painful thoughts circling around the Prince. “If you truly gave up on breaking your curse, you would not still be alive, would you?”
“I will not entertain this thought,” is all she says, but you know her answer already. 
You sigh. “Can I at least… read with you?”
The Prince tilts her head and pauses. A clawed hand grasps onto yours, and you're pulled into her lap. The steady heartbeat of Arlecchino's can be felt from the contact. 
— 
It takes several weeks for you to figure that the Prince does not enforce her punishment. You have escaped out of the castle before, if only to find more things to forage. She has seen you exit out of the castle but she does not chase you or force you to return back. Although you’d like to see the village again, you're also not sure if you do want to go back–the castle is quite comfortable and you’ve had enough of petty village squabbles. You wonder why it is that she doesn't stop you, why she was so forceful of it at the beginning. 
You recall the discussion regarding her curse. She had given up on finding a way to break her curse, however, she had always sought out company. Perhaps she had the punishment to force you to stay… to enjoy a company she has been able to for years. Now, Arlecchino has given up on you being a potential cure to her curse. It must be why she's no longer hesitant to let you go.  
But she is wrong. In those weeks you spend with her, you've learned much more about ‘the Beast.’ You've learned that she is kind in a quiet, observant manner. She's hunted for you, lit your fireplace, made your clothes. She cares for nature, appreciates its beauty and intricacy unlike anyone else you know. And she is romantic, some of the village men could not compare to her when she's read so many books. 
One day, a rose is left on your bed, no doubt collected on your bed. 
That night, you approach her room.
“Prince Arlecchino?”
“Yes?”
“The rose… thank you for it.” 
The Prince remains in silence, observing you with adoration in her eyes despite her bone chilling features. “You’re welcome.”
“Roses are often used as a way to confess,” you say. You know that she knows already, given the amount of books she read. “Is this what I think it is?”
Prince Arlecchino nods. Tentatively, she takes your cheek in her hand and cups it, her claws gently brushing over your skin. “Yes. I think I am in love with you.”
A smile forms on your face and you lean in to press your foreheads against one another, creating an intimate air. “I love you too, my dear Prince.” 
The two of you lean against one another, your lips meeting each other and you close your eyes. The Prince places a hand behind your head, pushing you closer. You don't notice that her nails are no longer red, nor are they sharp. She doesn't notice either. 
The ink from her arms wash away, and with that ‘the Beast’ is swept away, stolen away by you. Prince Arlecchino stands in place of the missing ‘Beast.’ 
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