#he could run a cult okay i think maybe | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hauntedhowlett-writes · 1 year ago

Text

pairing: cult leader!joel miller x virgin!female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 8.6k

summary:

You think you’re as good as dead when a band of raiders find you. In what you think are your final moments, an angel appears.

His name is Joel Miller, and he is here to deliver you from evil.

author's note: a huge thank you to my fellow cultist @atinylittlepain for listening to me scream about this. without them, we'd probably be on version 5 of this story. and to everyone who has been excited about this, i hope you enjoy!

warnings: DARK CONTENT - DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, dub-con: power dynamics, dub-con: cult mentality, age difference - 60M and 27F, explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), no use of y/n, dual POV, post-outbreak, canon divergence, canon typical violence (knife wounds, gun shot wounds, numerous mentions of blood), minor character death(s), blood cult ceremonies, religious themes, possessive behavior, emotional manipulation, loss of virginity, oral sex - f receiving, vaginal fingering, unprotected p in v, cum play, dirty talk, pet names, praise, joel really has a loose screw ok? if there are any tags missing, please let me know!

“I don’t think you should go out there by yourself,” you say, watching as your dad inspects his gun. He looks up at you with a pained expression.

“I gotta see where we should head next. I don’t want to lead you out in the wrong direction, accidentally get you in a bad spot,” he says. “I’ll be fine, buttercup.”

There’s a heaviness that settles in your stomach at his words. He sounds confident enough, but his eyes tell a different story, expose his fear. He stands with a sigh, a wince of pain washing over his face.

“Maybe I should—“

“No,” he interrupts. “I’m going. I won’t be gone long, okay? We can’t stay here forever. Who knows what’s out there in the forest.”

That’s exactly what you’re afraid of. At least inside the rotted cabin you stumbled across you could pretend you were safe. The forest is alive in a way you’ve never experienced growing up in a QZ surrounded with barbed wire and steel. You hear the snap of twigs and the howl of wolves, or the flutter of wings and the call of birds, and sometimes you think you feel the weight of eyes watching you if you venture out too far in your exploration.

“We’ve made it this far. We got out of Denver and that was half the battle,” your dad says. “You got your knife, right? And enough rations.”

You nod, swallowing around the lump in your throat. He kisses your forehead, dry lips lingering on your skin. You have an aching feeling this is a goodbye, some sinking intuition that he’s making a mistake that you can’t correct.

“Be back soon. I love you.”

Joel’s been keeping an eye on the people in the woods for the last three days. There was chatter on one of the radio stations that the Denver QZ was facing an uprising and he knows that once those walls come down, the survivors that venture out are bound to stumble across his town.

The cabin door opens and the man steps out, venturing into the forest. Joel waits to see if his female companion follows, but the door remains shut. He longs to see you, the girl who’s image has been burned into his brain since his first glimpse, but he has a duty to fulfill first.

He walks quickly and quietly through the forest, sure feet catching up with the man less than a mile from where he’d started. Joel clears his throat.

The man turns, fumbling with a gun that he clearly has no experience using, pointing it at Joel with shaking hands and shouting, “Move and I’ll shoot!”

“You lost?” Joel asks, holding his hands up and keeping his face trained in a mask of concern. “Lookin’ for somethin’?”

After a pause, the man seeming to have concluded that Joel isn't a threat, he says, “My daughter and I…we escaped the Denver QZ."

"That must've been difficult."

"We....we're running out of food," he continues, dropping his arms, limbs hanging heavy at his sides. "I-I don't know what else to do, man."

Gun no longer pointed at his face, Joel approaches the man, stopping when he's within arms reach. Up close, he can see the dismal state the guy is in -- sunken cheeks and bloodshot eyes, tattered clothing hanging on a thin frame. Joel places a hand on his bony shoulder.

"I can help you," he says. The man looks up, a brief glimmer of hope flashing in his eyes. Joel watches the slow realization, the way his brain catches up to what's just happened, a choked noise spilling from his dry lips.

Joel tugs his knife from the man's gut and steps back, watching as he collapses to the ground. Desperate hands smear the blooming red stain across his abdomen. Joel circles the man, positioning himself at his back, and pulls him close with a hand slapped over his mouth.

"I'll take good care of her," he whispers before dragging his knife across his neck in one clean slice. The man twitches once before growing limp and Joel releases him, body hitting the forest floor with a dull thud. Not one to waste, Joel gathers anything of use from his person.

Something catches the light against his neck. Curious, Joel tugs the bloodstained neck of his t-shirt to the side, finding a silver chain. He pulls, revealing the length of it.

A cross.

The clasp snaps with a sharp tug and Joel stuffs it in his pocket. Standing and shouldering his bag once more, he begins his walk back towards the cabin.

You're running as fast as your legs will carry you, lungs and limbs burning with the effort. You made the mistake of not listening to your dad when he'd told you stay where you were, to stay hidden, that he'd come back. Your nerves had gotten the best of you and you decided that you would catch up with him, but you didn't know which direction he'd gone. You figured you would travel a little ways and see if you could find him and if you didn't do so quickly, you'd rush back to the cabin and wait, just as he told you.

That's when the men saw you, two large figures with rifles that reminded you of FEDRA soldiers slung across their backs.

You duck behind a thick tree to catch your breath. You can hear voices calling out through the forest above the rush of blood in your ears, taunting tones carrying through the air.

"C'mon out, pretty girl!"

You chance a peek out from your hiding spot, only catching a brief glimpse of one man through the trees.

"Where ya hidin', sweet thing?"

His voice sounds far away and that gives you the courage to move forward, a tentative dash for another tree.

“I might be nicer to ya if you just come on out, but if I have to hunt ya down…well…you know what a hunter does to its prey, don’tcha?”

You press your hand over your mouth, muffling the cry that claws its way up your throat. You start to run again, faster, not caring if he can hear you so long as you're able to maintain that distance, hoping that if you can outrun them for long enough, he'll just give up and then maybe you can find your--

You crash into something, the world sliding out from under you and the breath rushing from your lungs as you land on your back with a pained shout. A hand wraps around your ankle, pulling you across the rough ground before you have the chance to recover.

"Gotcha," a man says, the voice different from the one that had been taunting you before. A figure stands over you, a foot on either side of your hips, looking down at you with a sinister smile. "Pretty little prize, huh?"

You twist your body, scrambling away from him. He laughs, following after you with unhurried strides.

“Now, don’t play hard to get,” he admonishes. A hand wraps around your ankle and he drags you toward him, kicking and screaming. Your foot connects with some fleshy part of him and he curses.

“You little fuckin’ cunt,” he hisses, dropping your foot. He kicks you, heavy boot colliding with soft flesh and bone, a sharp pain blossoming in your side, shooting down to your very marrow. You curl in on yourself, wounded prey trying to protect its most vulnerable parts.

A shot rings out, the sound startling in the relative quiet of the forest. You sit up, sudden movement making you light headed, and it takes you a long moment to register the scene before you.

The man that had been chasing you, the one that had caught you, the one that had hurt you on the surface but planned to do far worse, lies on the ground, eyes wide open but unseeing. Above him stands your savior, an older man with gray streaked dark curls and tan skin, broad shoulders and hard brown eyes. He reminds you of a painting you saw once in a book your dad owned, long before the outbreak.

“Death On A Pale Horse,” he explained when you showed him the painting that caught your eye. “Based on the Book of Revelations. You remember that one, right?”

“Yeah.”

“This one,” — he pointed to the central figure, a dark creature on a white horse — “is Death. And this one” — he pointed to a figure on the right that rides a dark brown horse, the dark colors making him blend among the horrors breaking from the sky behind him — “would be famine. You can see the emaciated man below him.”

“What about the other two?” You asked.

“The one of the red horse would be war.”

You pointed to the remaining figure, a man with dark curls and a determined expression. “And the white horse?”

Your dad paused. “Conquest. Pestilence. The Antichrist. The first horseman of the apocalypse.”

The man before you today looks like that figure on the white horse and despite his choice to rescue you from one horror, you fear he may be something far worse.

The man kneels and you flinch away from him. He sighs and says, “I ain’t goin’ to hurt you.”

“Who are you?” You ask, voice weak, throat on fire.

“My name is Joel,” he says. “I want to help you.”

“How do I know you weren’t with those other guys?” Your eyes grow wide and you rush to stand on shaky legs. “Wait, there’s another—“

“He won’t be an issue,” Joel assures you, wrapping a steadying arm around your waist. “C’mon.”

“I can’t—“

“Men like those two ain’t the only things in the forest to worry about, and I’m afraid we can’t sit around and find out. That gun shot could send a horde runnin’.”

“Wait!” You snap, pulling out of his grasp. He holds his hands up, as if in surrender, or maybe like he’s approaching a wounded animal. You’re not sure which. “My dad is out there. H-he went to figure out where to go from here. We were in a cabin…” Your voice trails off. “I told him I would wait for him.”

Joel’s eyes are soft as he says, “We need to get ourselves to safety. I can send someone out to look for your dad first thing in the mornin’.”

“Send someone?”

“There’s a group of us, down in the valley. Survivors, like you.”

“Really?” Relief washes over you, eclipsing even the ache in your belly and the burn in your throat and the pain in your muscles. “How far?”

“With the state you’re in, probably about a two hour hike.”

You don’t have much choice but to go with him, do you?

“Okay.”

“Where’re you comin’ from?” Joel asks, glancing over his shoulder at you. You’ve been following quietly behind him, head down and eyes fixed on the ground.

“Denver,” is all you offer in response. He knew that much already. He wants to know more.

Maybe he has to give more first.

“‘M from Texas, originally. Was in a QZ in Boston for a while before makin’ my way out here.”

“Why’d you come out here?” You ask.

“Had a friend once tell me, ‘Save who you can save’,” he says.

“What does that mean?” You ask.

“You’ll see.”

Joel had mentioned survivors, but you're shocked to discover that just past a wooden sign proclaiming WELCOME TO CRESTONE in chipped yellow paint, a whole town is tucked away, surrounded by a wooden gate that opens for you as you approach. You feel the weight of curious eyes as you walk through a town square, Joel's palm between your shoulder blades steering you towards a more residential area until you reach a two story adobe home.

Once inside, you’re led upstairs to a sparsely decorated bedroom, a large bed in the center with a faded quilt tucked around the mattress with precision and a dresser against one wall covered in yellowed wallpaper. Joel gestures for you to sit, kneeling on the wood floor in front of you to work on the laces of your sneakers.

“What—“

“You need rest,” he says, removing your shoes. He looks up at you, brown eyes full of concern. Your stomach flips.

“But—“

“No,” he says sternly. He stands and walks to the side of the bed, tugging the quilt free and folding it down. “I have duties to return to, but you’ll be safe here.”

You don’t have it in you to continue arguing. You haven’t seen a comfortable bed in more than two days and the exhaustion catches up to you in one fell swoop, eyes halfway to shut as you crawl into the space Joel’s made for you between the sheets. He pulls the covers over you, the warmth of a hand smoothing across your cheek the last thing you feel before falling asleep.

You wake to the sun high in the sky, streaming through the open window of a room that you don't recognize. You push yourself to sitting, your ribs protesting the movement and your head pulsing just behind your eyes. Your mouth is unbearably dry, so much so that you start coughing, further aggravating your bruised ribs.

"There's water on the nightstand," a voice says, startling you.

You look to your left, finding a young girl sitting in a wooden chair by your bed. Her dark hair is pulled back from her face, wayward pieces falling across pale skin. Her sharp brown eyes watch you with an intensity that makes your skin crawl.

“I’m Ellie,” she says. You mumble your own name.

“Did Joel save you?” Ellie asks.

“Uh—“

“He must have. That’s what he does,” she continues, cutting you off.

“Ellie!” A familiar deep voice calls out. Her eyes go wide and she scrambles from her seat, rushing for the door. Heavy footsteps climb the stairs, Joel appearing in the open doorway. He looks at her with a stern expression, mouth pressed in a thin line. “Thought I told you not to come up here.”

The look on her face isn’t fear, like her reaction would have led you to believe. No, she looks up at Joel with reverence as she says, “Sorry. Wanted to see her.”

Joel nods. “Head to the mess hall. I’ll bring her down shortly.”

Ellie casts a lingering look in your direction before disappearing through the doorway.

“Sorry about her,” Joel says. He takes a seat on the edge of the mattress. “How’re you feelin’?”

“Could be better,” you say honestly. “How long was I asleep for?”

“A little more than a day.”

Your eyes go wide. “My dad—“

“We’ve sent out a search party. No luck yet, I’m afraid,” he says. You curl into yourself a bit at the news, shoulders tight with worry. He reaches forward and places a hand on top of your own where it rests on the sheets. “You should get some food. I brought you some new clothes, too. I’ll let you get dressed and we can go down to the mess hall.“

He leaves the room before you respond and you drag the pile of clothes closer to you, finding a neatly folded t-shirt, jeans, underwear, and socks. It takes you a long moment to work your way out of your dirty clothes, your movements slow to not aggravate your injuries. You keep your bra on, pulling the clean shirt over your head, followed by the jeans. You're thrilled to be wearing something that's not caked with dirt and sweat.

You're working on putting your socks on when there's a knock at the door, Joel entering when you call out for him to come in. He smiles at you.

"There, that's better," he says. "C'mon. Let's get down to dinner."

You follow him out of the room and down the stairs. The first floor of the home has a kitchen that opens up to a living and dining area, the space filled with worn mismatched furniture. The walls are wood paneled and there's a massive stone fireplace with elk antlers mounted above it.

The sun is setting as you step outside and get your first real look at the town as its bathed in gold. Narrow residential streets give way to wider roads once you reach the town center, where commercial buildings are pressed together advertising long forgotten businesses, their windows dark.

"That's the butcher up there," Joel says, pointing to one of the wooden buildings. "He gets the meat from the traps prepped for us." He points to another building with a sign that says RESTAURANT. "That's the bakery."

"A butcher and a bakery?" You ask. "Do you have electricity here?"

"Sure do. Solar panels, just outside the gate."

You continue walking through the town until you come up on a large white building, people entering and exiting through a set of thick double doors. The shadow of a cross remains above the door, perhaps scorched by the sun where a crucifix once sat. People welcome Joel as he enters, heads turning in their curiosity. You press a little closer to Joel's side.

The large room is bursting with noise and activity -- a flurry of conversations, the clink of cutlery, and laughter. You've not seen anything like it before, the mentality in the QZ not conducive to camaraderie. You can count on one hand the number of people you would have considered friends within those walls, and even that was a stretch. You and Joel join a line of people retrieving plates of food from a single window.

"How long has all of this been here?" You ask, gesturing to the room. He looks around proudly.

"Ellie and I came across this town on accident after we went through hell leavin' Boston. The folks here set up their own quarantine zone and with bigger fish to fry, FEDRA sort of left ‘em alone. They were kind enough to take us in," he says. "After that, more people started showin' up lookin' for safety. Lots of people who escaped the QZs or had been on their own for a while and were tired of runnin'."

"Ellie says you save people," you comment, taking a step forward as the line moves. "What's that mean?"

"Every flock needs a shepherd."

You’re at the front of the line now, standing in front of the window. A woman appears, her face lighting up when she sees Joel.

“Joel! How are you?” She asks, leaning onto the ledge. Behind her you can see people moving quickly and efficiently around a stainless steel kitchen, large pots of food simmering on the stovetop.

“Well enough,” he says. He places a hand on your shoulder. “We have a new guest. Make her plate nice and full for me?”

“Of course.”

She gathers a plate from a precarious stack, loading it with a heaping pile of food ranging from mashed potatoes and stew to colorful vegetables that you haven’t seen in ages, not since before the outbreak when you were seven and your dad would make dinner rather than pass you a ration package. You’re speechless as she hands you the plate with a kind smile, a mumbled thank you the best you can manage to show your gratitude.

Joel is handed a plate as well and you follow him to a table where Ellie sits next to a man with white hair, her plate already empty in front of her. The man looks up at Joel as you approach, his expression closed off and wary.

“Michael,” Joel says in greeting, jaw ticking. You take a seat beside Ellie, who to your surprise moves closer to you, arm brushing yours. “You botherin’ Ellie?”

The man, Michael, shakes his head. “No, sir. We were just having a little talk.”

“What about?” Joel sits on the opposite side of the table. He rips his bread roll in half.

“Just some concerns I was having.”

“You bring your concerns to me. Not to her.”

The two men stare at each other, the tension thick and impossible to ignore. Finally, Michael gets up, leaving the table without another word. Ellie’s shoulder’s lose their tension and Joel catches her eye, the two of them seeming to have an entire conversation in just a look.

The moment passes and Joel’s features relax, a smile tilting the corners of his lips as he returns his attention to you and gestures to your plate.

“Dig in,” he says.

Joel walks you back to his home after dinner, the sky now dark. Ellie’s already closed herself in her room by the time the two of you return, having left the mess hall before you had finished eating.

“Tired again?” Joel asks when you yawn, mouth open wide as you stretch your arms above your head.

Your expression is sheepish as you say, “A little bit.”

“That’s to be expected,” he assures you. “You fought a hard fight. It’s okay to relax now. I’ve got you.”

“Thank you.” Your fingers tangle in the hem of the t-shirt he’d given you earlier. “I don’t know if I’ve said that already.”

“You’re welcome. Come on, let’s get you back upstairs. You can use the shower and get to bed.”

“Oh my god, a shower sounds amazing.”

He shows you the bathroom and helps you get the water running. Once he shows you where to find a towel, you smile gratefully before shutting the door on him.

Dismissed, Joel makes his way to Ellie’s room, knocking on the door. She answers quickly, opening up only enough for him to see her face.

“Yeah?” She asks.

“Can I come in?”

She rolls her eyes but opens the door further, allowing him inside. Her room is smaller than his but far more decorated, pages ripped out of old magazines and comic books tacked to the wall. She takes a seat on her single bed, folding her legs beneath her.

“What did Michael talk to you about?” He asks. She shrugs her shoulders. Joel bites back a sigh. Sometimes he forgets what it was like to reason with a teenage girl. “Ellie.”

“He said” — she pauses, scratching at her wrist in the way that she will when she’s anxious — “he said that you were full of shit. That your fucked up ceremony isn’t helping any of them.”

Joel’s teeth grind together. “That all?”

“Called me a stupid kid for following what you say,” she mumbles. “Said everyone in town was stupid for believing you.”

“Thank you for tellin’ me,” he says. Rage burns in his veins as he turns to leave.

“What are you gonna do?” Ellie asks as he reaches the door.

“I’m goin’ to teach him a lesson.”

He pulls the door shut behind him, tilting his head against the wood with a sigh. The click of a latch down the hall precedes your quiet, “Joel?”

Joel turns to face you, surprised to find you standing just outside the bathroom door with a towel tucked around your body. Water glistens on your skin in the low light, drawing his eyes down your neck and across your chest. He clears his throat.

“Everythin’ alright?” He asks.

“Yeah, everything is fine,” you murmur. “I…could I get some new clothes?”

“Of course, should’a given you some before you showered. Sorry about that.”

Joel walks past you, entering his bedroom and approaching the dresser. He tugs the top drawer open, full of clothing he’d gathered while you’d been asleep for more than a day. He piles together another t-shirt, sleep pants, and underwear, setting them on the bed for you.

You’re standing in the doorway when he finishes and he fights the urge to go to you, to pull you close, to run his wretched hands over your body like he’s wanted to since he first saw you in the forest.

He doesn’t, though. Not yet. You still have much to learn.

“Here you go,” he says. “Some more stuff in the drawers for you if you need it.”

Joel leaves you to get ready for bed, shutting the door behind him. He heads downstairs to grab what he’ll need, essentials shoved in a bag thrown over his shoulder before venturing off into the night.

Only a few lights continue to illuminate windows as Joel walks through the residential area. The house he approaches at the end of a street is already dark, quiet beyond the wood door that he knocks on three times. The door opens slowly, Michael appearing in the small space.

“What?” He grunts.

“Come take a walk,” Joel says. Michael rolls his eyes, moving to shut the door but Joel’s boot blocks his effort. “I ain’t askin’, Michael.”

“Oh, yeah? What are you going to do?” He challenges. Joel throws his weight against the door, catching Michael by surprise enough for him to step into the house.

Joel throws an elbow into the man’s gut, making him double over with a groan. He circles behind him, kicking the back of his knee to send him to the ground. He pulls a length of chain from his pocket, looping it around Michael’s neck and pulling the ends.

Michael struggles, clawing at the garotte and thrashing wildly, but Joel holds strong. He tightens his grip further until Michael’s fight becomes sluggish, lack of oxygen finally causing him to go limp.

Joel releases the chain and Michael’s body slumps to the ground. He removes his backpack, digging through the contents until he finds a rusted pair of handcuffs that he uses to bind Michael’s arms behind his back. Next, he places a strip of duct tape over his mouth.

When he wakes, Joel will lead him out past the gate. He will find an unassuming home that rests outside the boundary of Crestone. He will open the hidden doors of the cellar, the ones covered in a layer of leaves and grass. From the darkness he will hear the echo of desperate groans and the rattle of chains and the angry attempts to break free from bindings. He will lead Michael down the dirt steps, the smell of rot and fear and death clawing at his olfactory nerves.

He will place a burlap bag over a struggling Michael’s head and the man will beg and plead in words muffled by tape. Then, Joel will offer him for judgment.

A hand on you shoulder shakes you awake, the room still mostly dark when you manage to open your eyes. You groan, pulling the quilt up over your head.

“C’mon, we gotta get to breakfast,” Ellie says. The cover gets yanked down and she gives you a mischievous grin.

“Where’s Joel?” You ask, sitting up slowly. She shrugs.

“Probably there already.”

You swing your legs over the side of the bed and stand, stretching your arms up. You grab the same jeans and socks from the day before, changing into them quickly and sitting down on the floor to pull your sneakers on. Ellie watches you, her foot tapping impatiently.

“You can go without me if you’re in a rush,” you offer. She shakes her head.

“I’m fine,” she says quickly. “You ready?”

“Sure.”

You follow her out of the house, her clipped pace difficult to keep up with due to your lingering pain. As the sun starts to rise and you pass by more of the houses, you notice something peculiar about some of them.

“What’s that?” You ask, pausing in front of one the houses. There’s a streak of what looks like dark red paint across the top of the door. Ellie doubles back and stands beside you.

“Protection,” she says.

“From what?”

She shifts her weight from foot to foot, uncomfortable with your line of questioning. Rather than answer, she walks away, leaving you to catch up to her or be left behind.

As the two of you start to walk through the square, there’s a rush of people around you. Shouting can be heard up ahead as a crowd comes into view, gathered around the front of the mess hall building. People press in close together, craning their necks to see over each other and catch a glimpse of whatever spectacle has their attention.

Ellie pushes through the crowd and you follow close on her heels until she manages to break through the other side of the wall of people. You catch glimpses of something writhing on the ground, something animal but not quite, something failed and fetid and foul. Another peek affords you a view of an arm littered with bite marks shaped by blunt teeth, deep gouges into their skin that shine red with blood and fester with disease.

Joel appears, stepping around the side of the building. The whispers cease, the crunch of Joel’s boots and pained groans the only noise to be heard in the stale air.

His dark eyes scan the crowd. People shrink back from his gaze, pressing closer to each other for relief. He reaches down, curling his fingers into the burlap material and yanking it off to reveal a man, familiar and yet not recognizable. Unseeing eyes, ashen skin, and dark red veins now the hallmark characteristics of the man you now remember as the one who had been talking to Ellie in the dining hall.

Joel draws a gun from his back, aiming it at Michael’s head. “Let this be a lesson,” he says, pulling the trigger.

The shot rings out, making you jump. The agonized sounds come to abrupt halt and his body goes limp, eyes still open as blood blooms on the ground around him.

“No blood spilled. No blood saved,” Joel says. You look up from the horrible scene and meet his hard gaze. You step back, turning and shoving your way through the crowd.

Then, you run.

You’re frantically shoving clothing into your bag when a door slams downstairs and heavy footsteps climb the stairs at a quick pace. You can feel the burn of Joel's eyes on your back, his presence in the room thick and cloying as you refuse to turn around, even when he murmurs your name.

He moves closer, a hand on your shoulder prompting you to turn to break the connection. He holds his hands up in surrender, taking a step back as he says, "Let me explain."

"Explain? Explain?! How the fuck do you explain that?!" You snap.

"If you'll just listen--"

"There's nothing you could possibly say that will--"

"Ellie is immune!" He shouts. Your words die on the tip of your tongue, lost to ether as you stare at Joel.

"W-what do you mean? Immune?" You ask.

He takes a deep breath. "I told you what my friend said. 'Save who you can save'. The first person I saved was Ellie."

"I helped her out of Boston, kept her safe, nearly lost my life if it meant keepin' her alive," He continues. "That's what I offer here."

"So you think you're....what? Some kind of god? That you can grant immunity?"

He huffs a laugh, the noise devoid of any humor. "God abandoned his worst experiment in their time of need. There is no god anymore, just the poor creatures he left behind. Someone had to take up the mantle."

"But how?"

"The ceremony," he says.

"That’s not a fucking answer, Joel!” You shout. “What fucking ceremony?!”

“Blood spilled for blood saved. You can’t make it in this world without givin’ your everythin’ first.” He lifts the bottom of his shirt, just enough to reveal a jagged scar to the right of his belly button, shiny scar tissue disrupting smooth tan skin. “I did this for Ellie. Now everyone else has to do it for themselves.”

“I don’t…I don’t understand.” You take a small step closer to inspect the wound, raising your hand and reaching out with a tentative touch. Joel inhales sharply as you run your fingers across the puckered flesh.

His hand wraps around your wrist, pulling your hand up and holding it against his chest. “It’ll be easier to show you, okay? There’s a ceremony in a couple days.”

“I don’t—“

“You’re just afraid because this is somethin’ new, but I promise you that you got nothin’ to be scared of. I’ll take care of you.” He lifts a hand to your face, tilting your chin with his thumb. “I just need you to trust me.”

His eyes are honest, earnest, pleading with you to believe him and the longer you search them, the more truth you seem to find. He will take care of you. You just know it.

“Okay.”

Dinner is served early on the day of the ceremony, the room buzzing with excited conversation. You haven’t seen Joel much the last few days, just passing glimpses, and Ellie says it’s because he has a lot to prepare for. Tonight there’s a woman at his side wearing a white dress that flows to the floor, black hair braided down her back. She smiles at Joel, hanging on every word you can’t hear. It makes your stomach clench in a weird way when her hand curls around his bicep and her head leans against his shoulder.

“That’s Marcy. She’s volunteered for the ceremony,” Ellie says. She’s sitting across from you, a smirk on her lips. “S’why she’s been hanging around Joel the last few days. Joel’s gotta prepare her.”

“Oh,” is all you manage to reply, picking at the vegetables on your plate. “What does…what does he do? To prepare her.”

She shrugs. “Dunno.”

You glance at the pair. Joel leans in close to the woman, whispering into her ear. Your fingernails dig into the meat of your palm, your hands curled into tight fists beneath the table. He stands, a hand on the woman’s shoulder as he calls the people to attention, voices fading until silence envelops the room.

“Tonight,” Joel says, “another is to be saved. And we will all bear witness to the gift of deliverance that only self-sacrifice can grant.”

It’s only a few words, but the power in them is palpable as you glance around the room at the entire town watching him with rapt attention. His eyes meet yours.

“Save who you can save,” he intones. A chill runs down your spine.

“Save who you can save,” the town echoes back.

The sun is already low on the horizon, twilight casting a soft glow on the scene. You stand at the back of the crowd, watching as Joel leads Marcy onto a raised wooden platform. Another man joins them, passing something wrapped in cloth into Joel’s outstretched hands.

“The thing about the world today,” Joel says, unwrapping the cloth to reveal a large knife, “is that there ain’t a single guarantee.” He looks out over the crowd. “Except here, within these walls. Why? Because here you’ll make the greatest sacrifice and earn the greatest reward.”

He begins to pace the length of the platform, knife in hand. “Givin’ your blood in exchange for your safety? That doesn’t sound so bad, right?” The people around you nod their heads in agreement. “You’ve seen what that sacrifice can do. I did it for Ellie. I did it for myself. And tonight—“ he places a hand on Marcy’s shoulder “—another has made the choice to earn that gift of protection.”

A cheer erupts, spreading through the crowd through shouts and applause. You find yourself joining them, clapping your hands together as you continue to watch Joel.

“Marcy,” Joel says. “What brings you here today?”

“No blood spilled, no blood saved,” she recites dutifully.

“Are you afraid?” He asks.

“No,” she says.

“Why?”

“Because I trust in your protection.”

Joel smiles at her, beaming with pride, and that knot in your stomach from earlier returns with a vengeance. You want him to look at you like that.

He stands in front of her, blocking her from view with his body. A hush falls over the crowd and from the silence erupts an anguished scream. You flinch, the sound piercing and painful and petrifying, though it seems to have taken nobody else by surprise.

Another scream as he jerks his arm back, the knife in his hand now stained with red that slides down the blade, dripping to the wood beneath his feet. He steps to the side and you can see the woman now, her hands pressed to her belly. Crimson blooms beneath her hands, marring her pretty white dress and leaching the color and vitality from her face. She drops to her knees and so does Joel, who wraps an arm around her shoulders and gently guides her until she’s lying on her back. He holds her hand and smooths her hair from her face as she just repeats, “Thank you.”

Slowly, the strength in her voice fades. Her arm goes limp in his grasp, dropping to the floor with a dull thud as her eyes flutter shut. Joel whistles sharply, three men rushing up the platform and lifting the girl into their arms, careful not to jostle her too much. Joel remains kneeling, his head turning to scan the crowd.

“We are born covered in blood,” he says. “It gives you protection from the outside world when you’re wrenched from the womb. And it will protect you now as it is wrenched from you.”

He steps off the platform and walks past the crowd, heading for the residential street. Everyone shuffles forward, moving en masse like sheep following their shepherd or cattle to the slaughter. You’re led to one of the smaller homes and you watch as Joel smooths the flat of the blade across his hand, gathering blood in his palm.

He places his palm on the door, smearing the blood across the faded blue paint. When he’s done, he turns to face the crowd.

“Marcy has earned her protection. Those of you among us that have not yet made your sacrifice, may you return home this evenin’ and realize that each passin’ day is a wasted opportunity for your salvation.” His serious expression softens as he smiles. “No blood spilled.”

“No blood saved,” the crowd says.

To your surprise, the words fall easily from your lips.

Joel shuts the door quietly behind him. He’s just finished checking on Marcy and was pleased to find that her wound has been dressed and she’s recovering well. At the kitchen sink he runs the water as hot as he can tolerate and scrubs his hands clean.

He can hear faint footsteps upstairs, the sound of your pacing back and forth in his bedroom. He’s pleased that you stayed through the entire ceremony, didn’t run away filled with fear or disgust like you had watching him make an example out of Michael.

There’s hope for you yet.

Joel dries his hands on a towel and heads upstairs. He glances at Ellie’s room out of habit, though he knows it’s empty. She likes to help out after the ceremony, usually sticking beside the town nurse, Shelly, as she monitors the person who participated in the ceremony over night.

The door to his bedroom is shut but he can see that the light is on, the glow of it seeping out from the gap beneath the door. He knocks, three sharp raps of his knuckles, and waits.

You pull the door open, and Joel is once again struck by how much he wants you, how much he’s craved you since the first time he saw you. You look up at him with wide eyes but he doesn’t sense any fear as you pull the door open further and step back to let him enter.

“You doin’ okay?” He asks, shutting the door quietly behind him. You’re standing with your arms wrapped around yourself, nodding quietly. Joel moves closer, tentatively reaching out to tilt your chin up so that he’s looking into your eyes. “Talk to me.”

“I….,” your voice trails off. You take a breath. “I want that protection.”

He was hoping you would say that. Relief floods through him.

“I can’t do that,” he says. Your brows pinch together, hurt flashing across your features. “I won’t have your blood on my hands.”

“But—“

“Listen to me—“ his hands frame your face, thumbs smoothing over the high points of your cheeks “—you’re meant for somethin’ different here.”

“Something different?” You repeat. You shake your head slightly. “I don’t understand.”

“From the moment I saw you, I knew I couldn’t let you lose a drop,” he whispers. “You don’t need to bleed, sweetheart. Not like them. I’ll protect you myself.”

Your mouth drops open the slightest bit, drawing Joel’s gaze. He slides his thumb across your bottom lip, mesmerized by the softness of it. There’s not much about his life the last twenty or so years that he would call soft.

There was his brother, Tommy, even though they couldn’t see eye to eye and had to part ways. His daughter, Sarah, before the outbreak. She took care of him, made sure he took his vitamins and packed his lunch and didn’t miss a parent-teacher conference. She was light and joy, his heart outside of his body, and she was ripped from his grasp.

There was Tess, who was not a soft person but was a soft place to land among the carnage. Bill, ornery though he was, and Frank, arguably his better half. They were a breath of normalcy, even when Bill had a gun trained on him. Ellie, once she quit being a pain in the ass and wormed her way into his heart with her promise to follow him wherever he went.

And now there was you.

“Will you let me do that?” Joel asks. “Protect you?”

You lift your hands, delicate fingers wrapping around his wrists. He wonders if you can feel the rapid beat of his heart, his pulse pounding beneath your grip. Finally, after a long moment, you whisper, “Yes.”

Joel captures your lips with his, swallowing your gasp of surprise. You’re tentative, a bit clumsy with your movements as you kiss back and he pulls away, leaning his forehead to yours.

“I-I’m sorry,” you murmur. “I’ve never—“

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll take care of you.”

While his words don’t stop your pulse from racing, they do calm your nerves the slightest bit. It’s not that you’ve never been interested in sex, there was just never a good opportunity. Going through puberty in an apocalypse where a militant government faction monitors your every move in exchange for basic necessities wasn’t exactly conducive to forming intimate relationships.

While you’re lost in your thoughts, Joel moves you backwards until your legs hit the mattress and he urges you to sit down. He kneels in front of you, working on the laces of your sneakers, removing them and setting them to the side. He looks up at you as he removes your socks and you’re not sure if you're supposed to find the sight of him kneeling at your feet as sexy as you do, but a rush of warmth rolls through you all the same.

He runs his palms up your legs, across your thighs, until his fingertips find the waist of your jeans, popping the button of the fly and pulling the zipper down.

“Lift your hips a bit, sweetheart,” he says, working the denim down and off your legs, tossing them aside. His hands return to your thighs, goosebumps erupting along their path to your hips.

“No one’s touched you here?” He asks, here being the soft skin of your inner thigh that his thumbs sweep across. You shake your head. He moves higher, a featherlight touch over the elastic of your underwear that makes you gasp. “What about here?”

“N-no,” you manage to whisper. He smiles at you, the same proud smile he’d given Marcy that you were so desperate to have for yourself.

“Good girl,” he murmurs. He kisses the inside of your knee quickly before sitting up higher, reaching up to lift your shirt up, tugging it over your head and dropping it onto the growing pile of your clothing.

“Lie back for me,” Joel commands. You shift up the mattress and follow his instruction, bringing your arms up to cover your exposed breasts. He makes a dissatisfied click with his tongue, pulling your arms away as he crawls up the mattress to settle between your legs.

“None of that,” he admonishes, planting your hands by your head. He kisses your lips again, butterflies erupting in your stomach when his tongue tangles with yours, hot and demanding. He palms one of your breasts, hands rough on the delicate skin. “This is mine, do you understand?”

Joel brings his mouth to your breast, tongue swirling over your stiff nipple. You cry out, the foreign sensation making more heat rush through you, leaving you throbbing between your thighs. He looks up at you through his lashes as he sucks your nipple between his lips, releasing it with a lewd pop.

“Mine to touch,” he says, leaning on one arm to trail his fingers down your stomach. “Mine to kiss.” His lips trace the same heated path. “Mine to protect.”

When he reaches your underwear, he pulls back. “Look at that,” he murmurs, thumb rubbing across the gusset, making you whimper and squirm. “You’ve soaked your panties, sweetheart.”

Your face feels hot with embarrassment. “‘M sorry,” you mumble.

“Sorry? Ain’t nothin’ you need to be sorry about,” he says with a chuckle. He sits up, working your only remaining barrier between you down your legs. He spreads your legs with his hands on your thighs. “Goddamn, you look so pretty, baby.”

“Really?” You ask. His answering grin is wolfish.

“So pretty,” he repeats. He settles on his belly, face so close to your pussy you can feel the warmth of his breath against your heated flesh. “Gotta get you ready.”

Your response to the question is cut off with a high pitched moan as Joel runs his tongue through your folds, circling your clit with broad strokes. You try to close your legs against the sensation but his strong hands keep your thighs pinned down near the mattress.

He groans as he sets a slow and measured pace, alternating attention to your clit with dipping his tongue inside of you, dragging your essence from the source. Your hands clench in the sheets, chasing and retreating from the overwhelming sensation in equal measure.

There’s a blunt pressure that turns into a slight pinch as Joel slips a finger into your tight heat. Your head tilts back with a high keening noise and you’re panting, desperate for breath as he moves his hand in tandem with his tongue.

One finger becomes two that thrust and curl and part inside of you, stretching you in unfamiliar ways. It feels good, and all you want is more, more, more.

Joel’s hand moves quickly and he sucks on your clit, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bundle of nerves until that flood of relief that you’ve only accomplished a handful of times on your own washes over you, your back arching sharply off the mattress as you shout his name like a prayer to the heavens.

His motions slow to a stop and he leaves the bed. You hear the clink of a belt and the rustle of clothing being removed before his weight returns between your legs, a new heat to be felt against your flushed skin with his clothes no longer in the way. With shaky hands you reach up to touch him, starting at his shoulders.

You trail your hands across his warm tan skin, down his hard chest and softer belly. That scar, the one that frightened you before, leaves you breathless as you run your fingers over it now. He’s so strong, so powerful, and he wants you. Wants to protect you so that you don’t know that same pain.

“Joel,” you whisper. He leans forward, hands on the mattress beside your head. He kisses you, slow and all encompassing. You can feel the hard length of his sliding through the mess he’s made of you and you gasp.

“Let me make one thing clear,” he says, face serious, “there ain’t any goin’ back from this. You’re mine. You got that?”

“I trust you,” you reply. Your response earns you a deep groan from the man, a kiss to your forehead that precedes the blunt head of his cock pressing to your soaked entrance.

His cock is thicker, much thicker, than his fingers were and you whine at the intrusion. His shushes you, peppering your face with soothing kisses.

“I don’t think—“

“You’re doin’ so good, sweetheart, I know you can handle it,” Joel says. “Take a deep breath, just a little more.”

Tension gives way, a sharp pinch that turns into an ache as Joel presses his hips firmly against yours. He kisses your neck and trails his nose across your sweat damp skin, holding still as you adjust to his girth.

You shift your hips the slightest bit and Joel’s moan echoes your gasp. “Tell me I can move,” he begs, another desperate kiss pressed to your lips. “Please, baby.”

There’s something heady about the power you have in this brief moment, a man like Joel begging you for something when he’s used to having everything. You nod and that’s all the encouragement he needs to draw back slowly, that fullness leaving you inch by inch, before thrusting sharply.

It’s unlike any experience you’ve had before — the way his body moves with yours, the flex of his muscles above you, the intense look in his eyes each time he presses inside of you.

“Made for me,” he murmurs. “Mine.”

“Yours,” you agree, moaning as each drag of his cock presses against a tender spot inside of you that has your stomach tightening rapidly.

His effort doubles, hips slamming hard enough to make the headboard bang against the wall. You dig your nails into his back, watch the clench of his jaw against the sting, and moan his name as you succumb to the feeling of free falling into bliss, clenching around his cock.

“That’s it, sweetheart, fuck,” he growls, hips stilling against yours as warmth pulses inside of you, his mouth dropped open on a groan of your name.

Joel takes a moment to catch his breath before withdrawing from you. He reaches his hand between your legs, pressing his fingers into your swollen pussy as you gasp.

He holds those fingers up, the light catching on the red staining them.

Perhaps you’d spilled blood for your safety after all.

You wake to the early morning light filtering through the window, a noticeable ache between your legs as you begin to stir. You’re naked, having fallen asleep in Joel’s arms last night, his lips caressing your neck until you’d drifted off and dreamt of blood and wolves. You stretch your limbs, encountering only cold sheets as you do.

As you sit up, you realize the sound of rushing water is the shower and surmise that Joel must be in there. With stiff movements you leave the warmth of the bed and approach the dresser, tugging open the top drawer to find clothing for the day.

You’re reaching for underwear when your fingers catch on something cold, metal in a sea of fabric. You pull on the object, unearthing it from its hiding spot and holding it up for inspection.

A cross, hanging from a silver chain. A chain you would tangle your fingers in as a child, a cross that a thumb would rub across as a deep, familiar voice muttered prayers.

The shower turns off and you take one last look at the crucifix before setting it back into the dark corner you’d unearthed it from.

Then, you shut the drawer.

Joel Miller masterlist

All masterlists

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel tlou #no use of y/n #joel x reader #dark content #cult leader!joel miller #cw age gap #cw dubcon #cw age difference #dark!joel miller #dark!joel x reader #dark joel miller

1K notes · View notes

undreaming-fanfiction · 2 years ago

Text

Eddie hated this and he'd just started.

See, he was so proud when he made it, when he got his first office job. He saw what decades of physical labor did to Wayne's back, his hands, and he wanted to make his uncle proud. So he kept applying and applying and getting ignored and rejected and finally, finally he got a job in a pretty large corporate. Not exactly something prestigious, but hey, it had potential. The experience counted and all that.

He thought maybe workplaces would be different, that the good ol' high school dynamic would fuck off, but no. He was sitting at his desk, trying to fill in paperwork after a taxing phone call, but all he could focus on was whispering from the neighboring cubicle that was ostentatiously loud. He didn't know who sat there yet, the guy had been on vacation for the two weeks Eddie was in the company. From the stuff he was hearing, he was getting introduced anyway and not exactly the way he'd have liked to be.

"Can you believe they actually let him work here?" It was Carol, of course it was, the office gossip and mean girl knockoff. "I mean, he doesn't even look decent! Did you see that hair?" Okay, that hurt. He actually pulled his hair into a neat bun every morning, but you can't please some people. "And he has tattoos, what would our customers think if they actually met him, plus you should have heard the rumors about his past-!"

But just as he was about to slam down the pile of paperwork and either take an extended smoke break or gently ask Carol to go fuck a polar bear, he heard another voice. Bored and wonderfully bitchy.

"That's absolutely fascinating, Carol. Please tell me more, what could this guy possibly have done? It must be something juicy. Did he perhaps fuck his boss during the Christmas party and then lie about it to his boyfriend of five years? Oh wait no. That was you. Silly me."

Eddie had to bite his pencil to stay quiet, but his whole chest hurt by trying to keep the snickering in. And then the offended gasp. "I- you promised you wouldn't-!"

"I didn't promise shit, Carol. You just came to me, cried your eyes out - bad move by the way, invest in some waterproof mascara for god's sake, mascara in wrinkles doesn't good on anyone, and yes, you do have wrinkles - and tried to play the victim. Except I heard your small proposition to the guy before so it didn't really work out. But it's fine, you know," and oooh, the tone was smug, so bored, Eddie loved this guy already, "Tommy saw you as well and had a good time with Nicole to get even. So there's nothing to worry about. Now tell me, what did this horrible Eddie Munson do to summon wrath of such a righteous woman such as yourself?"

Eddie heard a sharp sound as Carol got up from the desk. "Fuck you, Steve Harrington," she spat out and sped past Eddie's seat. He just gave her a small salute.

When the sound of high heels faded, Eddie leaned over the cubicle wall and knocked to draw the guy's attention. And yeah, maybe he was a little bit biased because he'd just obliterated a textbook definition of a shrew, but this Steve was fucking gorgeous, light brown eyes looking at him, a smug smirk tugging at his lips.

"Oh hi," said Steve and offered his hand, shaking Eddie's. "Sorry for that. I'm Steve Harrington and whatever deepest, darkest secrets you're hiding, I don't care, I'm pretty sure I've heard them all. What did you do? Shave your head in school? Join a cult? Cut dolls apart and chant hail Satan?"

That had Eddie laughing again, but he still had an introduction to make. A proper one. "Nice to meet you, Steve. Eddie Munson, and I'm worse than your darkest nightmares. I sometimes wear socks in sandals."

Steve's eyebrow twitched. "Oh, Carol was right, you are a monster!" he muttered. "Speaking of monsters..." His head leaned to the side, towards Carol who was angrily carrying her coffee mug, her mascara running again.

Before he could catch himself, Eddie leaned over the wall and whispered as loudly as he could muster. "Can you believe some people wear dotted dresses with stripes on their stockings? We can't all be born with taste, I guess...tragic."

And again, maybe Eddie was just biased, but Steve's laughter was so pretty that it actually made dealing with Carol's bullshit worth it.

#steddie #steddie au #steddie drabble #corporate au #coworkers au #stranger things #stranger things au #stranger things drabble #yeah so I'm crazy busy and kind of not doing too well #so this is not proofread #but I wanted to put something small together so here you go

3K notes · View notes

blueparadis · 1 year ago

Text

╰┈➤ ULTRAVIOLENCE ✦ SUGURU GETO.

⟣ ──┈ · · · + synopsis ➢ On Christmas evening of 2009 Geto Suguru receives an unexpected gift, a cure to his loneliness, and a curse to his mission of creating his "new world".

⟣ ──┈ · · · + cw ➣ fem!reader, cult leader!geto suguru, canon divergent, profanity, prostitution, yandere!getou suguru, possessive behavior,smut, f1ngering, hand job, mutual masturbation, nipple stimulation, mutual pining, heavy angst, angst and tragedy, canon-typical violence; 4,7k word count + this this for @nagumoan's collab: 'dance with the dead'

| blog navigation + koct’23 masterlist. + cross-posted to ao3.|

30th of September, 2007.

The warmth and the humidity in the air have been settling on Geto’s skin for a while. The shrill cry of cicadas has been ringing in his ears. Even now, he can hear it amidst the sound of running water, washing dishes, and the table fan.

“Otou-san will be home soon, Sugu. You don’t have to wait for him to come back. Nowadays, he works till late at night.” The elderly woman puts the poached egg in the ramen bowl and places it in front of her son. Suguru stares at the food with plain slate eyes. “Your father thinks he can help you with your higher studies.” —his mother wipes her frail, slightly wrinkled hands in her apron before dragging the chair and sitting in front of her son, face to face— “But actually, he just misses having you around the house since you moved in the dorms last month. Is the food there okay? Are you eating well?”

Suguru does not speak. He gulps remembering the taste of curses. He has been doing his job like a robot all this summer— exorcise, absorb, digest. exorcise, absorb, digest, exorcise, absorb, digest, absorb, digest— “How is Satoru?” his mother asks pulling him back into reality. Her smile was so soft smile that Suguru thought it could make lilies bloom. He just listens to his mother like he usually does whenever he visits her. His eyes fall onto the ramen bowl again, there are hot fumes emerging from it. They must smell delicious like he remembers. But unfortunately, it failed to thrum the strings of Geto Suguru’s heart.

“Okaa-san, it’s okay. I’m not that hungry. I can wait for Otou-san to come home.” he remarks, smiling at his mother letting the food get cold. He has done this so many times, engaging his mother in talk so that she does not notice how hard it is for him to chew, swallow & eat without experiencing the taste and smell of it. All he can feel on his tongue is the rotten taste of curses, the aroma of dying corpses of his fellow jujutsu sorcerers. Maybe this is why he is losing weight so fast, not because of the heat. The more he tried to cling onto the mundanity of humans the farther it slipped away from him; like sand spilling through the gaps of his fingers.

“But why aren’t you in your school dress, my dear?” His mother asks, noticing him in normal black trousers and shirt.

“Oh! It got too much dirt.” He responds, looking at the clock in the kitchen.

This time will be the last time he sees his mother’s smile, hears her voice, sees her cook food for him, and the last time he welcomes his father to home.

3rd of February, 2008

“Oka-san. Otou-san. I’m turning 18 today.” Suguru jocked down to sit in front of his parents' graveyard. He places a few incense sticks with the fragrance of chrysanthemum, two bowls full of ramen, and some sake in front of the graveyard. He looks at the poached eggs, and the lump in his throat bobs once. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come on your funeral day.”

“Neeh—Oka-san, are you listening?” His eyes perk up. “Is it bad that I don’t regret any of this?” There is a pause before he stands up again. He finishes his last bit of cigarette and burns the butt with his cursed energy. “But you know what? I’m now less angry and more guilty. Guilty of so many things—”

“Geto-sama, we don’t have much time. They will tail us soon if we are here any longer than this.” Manami speaks with worry carefully buried under her commanding tone. His phone vibrates. He checks the caller ID. Shui Kong it read. A salacious curve appears at one corner of his lip. Disbanding the star religious group was a piece of cake for him. And, now with the help of Shui Kong, he will get an endless influx of money and curses in no time yet it would not be enough to defeat ‘the strongest’; he thinks. nope, that’s wrong, deep down, he knows that.

“Yeah, you are right. Nanako and Mimiko will get scared if they wake up and find none of us.” Geto smiles before turning on his feet to walk. As he starts to walk Manami waits till he goes ahead of her, at least eight feet from her and then she follows Geto Suguru. Geto's shadow does not even touch Manami’s, never does, she makes sure of that. She does not belong to his shadow, nor as his comrade but perhaps a part of the ‘family’ that Geto-sama keeps talking about.

“I won’t be here next year,” Suguru murmurs to himself before stepping out of the graveyard. He never looked back that day not while walking, not while getting in the car, and not even through the mirror. He did not feel the need to look back.

24th of December 2009

Geto Suguru skims through the thick crowd in the front lounge of one of the most expensive brothels in the city like the bow of a ship through the waves. There are men on couches, beautiful women over them, and the blended aroma of strong cologne and burning tobacco fills the air. Not only that, the tingling music mixed with waves of laughter of women and men makes Geto slaver at the thought of killing them all. He could do it now. He has both, power and confidence. But he is not here to create a massacre.

“Getou-sama,” a familiar low hum reaches his ears making him turn his head. At first, he thought he was just imagining it then he felt a tug in his baggy pants. He lowers his eyes to the ground.

“Ahhhhh! Nanako—Suguru takes her in his arms and clears his throat before speaking making it tart at every stretch of his words— “Didn’t I tell you to wait for me at the car? It's not safe for you here.” Not only it is unsafe but also inappropriate. A girl of her age should not witness the path that could also been her if he had not saved Nanako and her twin sister two years ago. Geto strolls back towards his car. “Negi, make sure she does not follow me. ” He instructs this young lad who drove Geto today keeping a sleeping Nanako inside the car.

“Well, she wouldn't have been here if she didn't fight with her sister,” Negi responds before bowing down. Geto watches the car go inside the parking area and then he vanishes into the thick crowd like a pebble in the wind of lust, power, money, and scandal. He earns a few curious stares and with such enormously handsome features and elegantly electrifying personality who would miss? It dawns on his mind that he killed the Yakuza who owned this brothel a week ago. The crowd is bearable, well, penetrable at least. Walking amongst non-sorcerers makes him nauseous at times but now he has reached the point where a part of him is willing to abolish this useless crowd in a snap. But he does not need to, not now. Now is not the time, nor the place.

Geto Suguru should have been at his new home with his new family spending this fine Christmas evening drinking. In all honesty, he did not even have to cut through this lustrous mob if Shui Kong kept his word, that is, delivering the money in the proper place and time. The only reason why he came in person to collect the money was because Shui Kong was the one who helped him to get a grasp on the star religious group. Not only that, he kept giving Geto information about such groups, and with his cursed manipulation technique he gobbled them up in no time. It was a walk in the park for him.

There was a steady flow of curses and money. Even certain small yakuza gangs, the smart ones but with lower manpower, started to send favors to appease him. He is like a god of the underworld now. But some dumb power-hungry yakuza men refused to retort to such steps and hence, they fell prey to his curses. He is going to eventually kill all these foxes but not now. He needs them now, he needs them to dilute his presence and make himself untraceable in the hands of jujutsu sorcerers. Killing the lions has already been a huge loss.

“There you are, Mr.Kong.” Geto remarked walking into the room. He does not take a sit rather stands against the door almost covering the entrance.

“Forgive me—” Shui starts with a brilliant smile that has cracked more deals than existed. He is not a pawn but a rook. “I would have gone to your place but I am needed to resolve an issue here.”

Geto chuckles. “Maybe it's your need that brought you here.” He quipped as Shui kept two briefcases on the bed.

Shui Kong gives him an assertive look before smiling. He lights up a cigarette and says, “ Would have been a happier man if that were the case but— ” There is a ridge between Geto’s eyebrows as he refuses to finish his thoughts. Blowing a puff into the air he turns his head to the other side of the room, towards another door, and yells from the bottom of his lungs. “Princess, I don't have all day.” Geto’s eyebrows do not let go of the tension. His arms are now crossed tightly across his chest, lower lip gleaming since he swiped his tongue across it. He just needs to see this princess, just for once.

“You see, someone asked for her, a fox from a rival gang.” Kong starts to explain. The cigarette in between his index and middle finger keeps sizzling in scarlet red. “he is saying he is gonna pay full for her— you know — but she was attacked while working —”

Geto’s dark eyes are now stuck on the doorknob. It starts to rotate. He registers Shui’s words who is scrolling through his phone to call them. The click of the doorknob makes Geto release the breath he was holding back, slowly. Before the slightest part between the door and the frame, Geto’s lips part exclaiming, “Shhhhhhh!” with a hiss at the end.

You unlock the door and wait for an opening to interrupt their conversation.

Shui Kong looks at Geto and then he follows those dark drunk eyes of Geto Suguru that took him to the other side of the room. There you stood, in a translucent white dress covering you from head to toe. There is a rose around your neck and rose leaves on the hem of your full-sleeved dress but beneath the dress, anyone could easily see the bandages around certain parts of your body — scattered and ripped. Your nipples are visible too. They are perked. Geto maintains his stance, hands inside his pocket and standing by supporting his shoulder against the door frame. Only his lips move, growling and raging underneath. “So, there are still those who don't obey me,” His eyes drink in your appearance so shamelessly; utterly shamelessly.

You rake away your eyes from this man of Six feet and some inches, clamping your palms around your upper arms. Geto walks inside the room. “There will be no exchange of anything from here, Shui Kong-san.” He does not take any of the suitcases just your cell phone from the dressing table.

“Passcode?”

You exchange glances with Shui Kong before opening your mouth. He nods. You answer him, “4444.” Geto's eyes flash onto you checking if you are mocking him or not. You are not. He unlocks your phone checks the search history.

“There’s a lot of porn here.”

You rub your upper arms slowly and say, “It’s not like my clients are interested in my pleasure— or my well-being.”

“You need to check her phone to tell? Can't you tell just by looking at her?” That earns Shui Kong a momentary glare.

“Yet you are willing to sell her,” Geto prompts sarcastically with a smile plastered on his face. There is an edge in his voice. Shui does not protest. He knows what he is doing. “You can stay with me,” He offers, without thinking about the consequences of it. “Of course, you’ll keep working, then.” It takes you a moment to decipher his words but it is not something unexpected.

“Oh, I don’t mind, whatever you want.” You say quickly. “I can follow orders.” Embarrassment seeps into your skin as you realize how rushed those words were that came out of your mouth. Scanning him through the corner of your eye, you find him smirking still checking your phone.

“Get her things in the car. She will be staying with me from now on.” Geto remarks slipping the phone in his pocket before leaving.

Shui Kong sits on the bed, soft and pink with a thud. “Do you realize what you are doing, Y/N?”

“You heard him.” You say getting out of those high heels and changing into flats. Even though you are bruised you managed to get your trolley. It is a good thing that you wore a long coat to cover yourself up. People are already staring, what would they have done if you turned up in such scantily dressed attire? Your Madame has already been summoned. Getting out of the building you look around and find Geto Suguru talking to your Madame. Shui Kong is also there. The moment you open the door of the car you spot a kid sleeping on the back seat. This must be Nanako. You adjust the kid's head on your lap. She's gonna get her neck sprained if she sleeps like that. Through the window, you see Geto still talking to your Madame, as he keeps jerking his leg impatiently and occasionally scratching his forehead with his thumb.

“We can't afford to do that — her regulars — they will complain. ” she tartly remarks.

“Well, give them a discount. You know how the system works, so figure something out with Shui Kong-san.”

“Have it your way then. She was a jinx anyways ” She remarks letting all the disappointment out. It piques Geto’s interest because when he saw you, you were not looking at him, you were looking behind him. A feeble curse not visible to normal people but visible to people with enough cursed energy to become a sorcerer or an exorcist. He specifically customized this curse after digesting it to pick up ‘talents’ like you who are considered as ‘freaks’ by those idiots. Just like Nanako and Mimiko.

“What do you mean?” He tries to sound curious hiding his disgust underneath the question because he has seen all the gore behind the glory of it all.

“People say that she is a witch. She kills men and takes their money. She’s got a black cat, a big one. Can talk to birds. I’ve seen her—” Suddenly the street lights, the honking of the cars, and the sound of footsteps of passersby became loud. Geto could not hear her properly anymore. Damn filthy monkeys.

“Excuse me, I’ve got to make a call.” One more minute of her blabbering nonsense he would have killed her. Geto calls Manami stepping aside in the dark shade of the alley. He talks for about five minutes before looking your way. You do not look away, rather give him a warm smile and bow your head to appreciate his kind gesture. He immediately turns around. You think he did not see you or maybe looking at someone else or somewhere else but all he could do is stumble on his words while talking to Manami. It’s distracting. You’re distracting.

Geto Suguru walks towards the car and you fold Nanako’s legs a little to make space for him but he disappoints you thoroughly. He sits beside the driver, the barrier is up so you can not see his face. Disappointment and hurt sedimenting at the bottom of your heart you arch your head and close your eyes. It feels like, after a long time, you have closed your eyes and not for the pretense of pleasure.

January, 2010.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” Geto drawls lazily as he sits on the sofa, still in his kasaya freshly finishing after seeing his visitors. He was out of town for almost a week and hence today's session was longer than usual. He needs a bath, a nice warm bath, not some scum to show up at his doorstep begging for you.

There are a bunch of men standing behind the older man, who seems to be the leader of the group; all armed, and Geto sits alone at the opposite. At times like these, he feels a little closer to the god. A middle-aged man, speaks keeping his gun on the center table, perhaps to assert dominance Geto thinks too but it makes him nothing but widen his smile. “You have something that belongs to me. And I have something that would interest you more so why don't we—”

Splotches of blood fall on his gun, warmth settling on his cheeks too like drops of oil. He turns his head to find that one of his men is sliced into two. Geto clears his throat gaining his attention again. “What a mess you have made, Toshiro-san. ” He gets up from his seat and before leaving he remarks huskily, “Please clean this up before you leave, Toshiro-san” The man, dumbfounded by what just happened, nods in agreement watching the man disappear into the inner quarters.

The dawn dies, painting the blue sky with its blood-red, agony welcoming the full moon and her bevy of stars. At night, Geto Suguru is not a monk anymore. He is much more than that — a father figure to two homeless orphans, an idol to a few who believe in his dream of creating a ‘new world’ and a savior to you.

It has been almost a month since Geto Suguru brought you to his home. At the dawn of the 25th of December 2009, when you woke up, Manami was there to help you with the chores and show you around. You have spotted Negi a few times while roaming and exploring the house, but there was no sign of that man, your so-called ‘savior’. When you asked Manami, she was rather cold while answering, “Geto-sama will be home around New Year's.”

It was not hard to pinpoint her jealousy for you. “Whore”, “Slut”, “Homebreaker”, “Witch” — the list continues. Her jealousy is just the tip of ice-berg. Maybe she had to sacrifice something greater when Geto took her in, something more important than freedom. Apart from her cold demeanor, everything was just fine; it was more than you could ask for. The wounds and bruises have started to fade. They are barely pinnable now. Nanako has a twin sister, Mimiko. They have warmed up to you more quickly than you imagined and a part of you was grateful to them since Manami became humbler in her gestures.

This fine morning, you noticed a new pair of shoes near the doormat. You knew it had to be his, Geto Suguru. He is home. Today might be the first time you get to talk to him, pay off his debts, or maybe keep working while staying here just like he said or whatever he decides to do with you. It was odd that he did not suspect you at all, or maybe he told someone to do a background check. He seems like the kind of person who would hold such powers. You have heard about him even if they reached out to you in the form of rustling rumors.

“Are you comfortable here?”

Losing your balance you topple on your feet and eventually fall on the ground. Nanako and Mimiko peeks by his legs. They are not even at his knee length, so small, so fragile and so full of life. They laugh and so do you. Geto Suguru is unimpressed. He crouches down pulling the girls in front of him. “Go and play in my room but don’t fight, alright?” The shift in his demeanor amazes you. He has changed. He is nothing like you have been warned about.

As soon as the twins leave, giggles and voices filling the corridor Geto’s eyes shift on you. You are still on the ground, legs half-folded. He extends his hand towards you to help you get up but you flinch away, sliding against the wall. In the middle of this long corridor, Geto Suguru is on his knees before you watching as if something fell from the sky, a boon, an angel.

His lips extended from ear to ear, flashing his teeth. “What's up with this coy act of yours?” He wets his bottom lip.“Too timid for a whore. I know you can see things.” Your eyebrows grew closer as you got up and formed a response in your head.

“It's hard to break years of habit,” you speak, “Sir.” you quip, seeing him still on his knees. Why isn’t he standing up? Does he need a hand?

“Not gonna complain that I called you a ‘whore’ ?” He taunts, standing up and facing you.

“Too timid for that sir,” you say keeping up the eye contact. But that does not last long. Geto’s dark globules follow your behind. You notice too that there is a shadow on the wall of the corridor of a lady. He sighs heavily exclaiming, “Manami. You can come out now,”

Timidly she walks out of the room exclaiming in a firm tone after clearing her throat, “Getou-sama, your bath has been prepared.”

“Have you prepared my clothes too?” He narrows the gulf in between the two of you and grabs a few strands of your hair smelling it, letting his lips graze over a little, and checking your reactions as Manami answers.

“No. Not yet. I’ll do it right—“Actually, prepare two sets of clothes.” Geto interrupts. The way your chest heaves, up and down, frantically tempts him to tease you more. “Hers too. She will be joining me.”

Geto was kind not to ask you to strip in front of him. It was not like you would not be used to that; you had practiced enough still you thought his eyes would alone eat you away if you were to undress in front of him. Curling up your braided hair in a bun and securing it with a clip you enter the bathroom. He is already in the bathtub, head arched, eyes closed, chest heaving up and down. You walk slowly trying not to make any sound. “You know, of all the curses I’ve swallowed—” you gasp loudly palming your face.

“Can you not do that, please? Every time i feel like my heart is gonna jump out of my chest.” So many words in one sentence; a question; a request; a demand; a plea. Suguru blinks: once, twice, and thrice. “Yours have a very distinct sweet smell.” His words slurred, inaudible at the end. This is the first time he has seen you speak so much and that too, only to him but that is not what warms his heart. ‘Sir.’ you did not add sir. He hated the honorifics with you. “And . . . I’m not a curse.” You mutter before dipping yourself in the bathtub sitting against the wall of the bathtub facing him.

You notice the huge X-shaped scar over his chest. “How did you get that?” you ask playing with the water not meeting his eye. His toes touch the side of your hips, hands resting on the white of the bathtub but when he does not answer you look up to him and see his hands near your ankles. There is a brief eye contact of realization about what’s he up to and in the next blink you are close to him.

“Do you wanna feel it?” He asks touching his forehead against yours.

“The pain?” You say, running his hands over his chest careful enough not to touch his nipple. “Or just the scar.”

“How did you get this?” He rubs the mark of one of your wounds on your arm. “And this?” he asks, a little concerned by the number and place of the wounds you have all over the body. They have faded but not totally. The agony on his face is clear but you remind yourself it is not because of you. It must be because he is reminded of how he got his scar.

“Mostly clients.” You answer noticing his hands trailing up to your breasts. Your mouth parts, eager moan willing to escape. “But some men like them. Some men don’t. So, they pay to heal them in a way like they were never there,”

“What kind do you think I’m?” Suguru asks but you fail to answer since his hands have started to massage your breasts, nice and slow. Your moans have started to weigh more, the bottom and lower lip parting with each other more. Your vision turns black as his mouth latches on the column of your neck but that is not where it is needed now. Your taut nipples need desperate attention. Moving closer to him, your palm is over his cock. He is hard, leaking even. A gran escapes from his mouth, edgy and elongated. One of his fingers dips inside your vagina. Woah. You’re wet, so very wet. Even under the water, he can feel your arousal, even smell it. You buck your hips a bit giving him an invitation. The sloshing sound of water feels more embarrassing than your moans. He does not take it but when you start to pump his cock in long, deep, and fast strokes he leans towards you taking one of your nipples in his mouth. You should have known how strong he is when he dragged you closer to himself because the way he is sucking and biting you think you will cum soon. He starts to rub your clit in rough, rigorous movements as his mouth works on your nipples. For a moment your hands feel lithe; your hands pause working his cock.

“You smell so good,” He murmurs unlatching his mouth and licking up to your collarbone from the base of your cleavage. You twist and tilt your head as his lips explore your neck while pushing his fingers up and down inside your vagina, nudging your sweet spot. Your hands start to pump his cock again, harder and faster this time, reverting him the favor with the same intensity and emotion. You feel him smirk against your skin before he bites your earlobes making you jolt. Another arm that rested on the valley of your waist tugs you closer, again; you think he is going to pull you onto his lap, fuck you deep, nice, and full. “Fuck” he mutters feeling his cock tense up. The sloshing of water now gets mixed with your loud moans mixed with his low grunts. Geto looks at your face, your eyes meeting his and occasionally landing on his lips and one of your hands gripping too hard on the whites of the bathtub. Both of your hands pick up the pace, matching the intensity and the ragged breathing. Eyes rolling white, jaw clenching hard, head arching back as the wave of orgasm approaches both of you.

“You’re close,” you huff and pant in between feeling his warm ejaculated fluid onto your hand.

“So are you,” he murmurs cumming as you keep pumping his cock till it stops. Geto pulls his fingers out of your messy aching cunt and shamelessly puts them in his mouth, licking and sucking it to the base of his fingers. You watch him as if he is the man to take your first time. The loneliness, the affection, the desire— all hit Suguru in a flash like a downpour as he notices you looking. He gets out of the bathtub and steps into the shower zone. When you hear the water running, you step out of the bathtub too but do not join him in the shower instead grab your phone with a towel that was in the pocket of his previous attire. Typing a number, you hit the send button and immediately delete it from the history.

The message read: [“I’m in.”]

note: special thanks to my dearest fumi aka dom ( @akiniku ) for constantly listening to my ideas, talking me through them, and beta-reading this when I finished it. I finished writing this today and it was so rushed by Dom talked me through it and gave me the course I needed. hope you enjoyed reading it. thank you for making it this far. i do want to continue this but will see if i can manage time to write after october.

also tagging @orchid3a @semisgroupie

541 notes · View notes

faetima · 7 months ago

Text

𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞. .

. . one day you receive an odd text from an unknown number. you try blocking the number, but it doesn’t work.

oh well, it’s probably just someone pranking you.

right?

// tws ; lil bit of cursing, stalking ; gn reader ; modern au, yandere au

a/n: sorry for the weird formatting!! tumblr wouldn't let me format it correctly :(

also sorry for the random bigger text, it keeps changing random letters and numbers to be bigger for some reason??

𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗬𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧.

aconties — symbolize hatred and that you should be cautious.

aconite - veil

always forever - cults

jealous girl - lana del rey

suki suki daisuki - jun togawa

yes or yes - twice

saccharine - jazmin bean

stalker’s tango - autoheart

an unhealthy obsession - tbrso

candy coated suicide - night club

i wanna be your boyfriend - hot freaks

i’m a slave 4 u - jazmin bean

the red means i love you - madds buckley

body - mother mother

red lights - bang chan, hyunjin

playlist <3

𝟭.‎‎‎‎‎

‎‎‎unknown number has started a chat !

18:12 december 12th, 2024

unknown number

hello, my aconite. :)

you

who is this?

unknown number

oh, dont worry about that.

youll know very soon, my beloved aconite. <3

read 18:20

you have blocked unknown number !

…

your block was unsuccessful ! please try again later .

𝟮.

‎‎‎unknown number has started a chat !

13:27 december 13th, 2024

unknown number

hello, my aconite!

how was your day today?

sent 13:27

unknown number

hello?

sent 16:43

unknown number

please reply. i know youre online, aconite.

you

please stop

who is this??

unknown number

i told you before !

haha, my aconite is so silly. never remembers anything.

like your math homework yesterday, hm? completely forgot to do it!

so cute.<3

read 17:38

you have blocked unknown number !

…

your block was unsuccessful ! please try again later .

𝟯.

‎‎‎unknown number has started a chat !

12:12 december 14th, 2024

unknown number

who is that boy?

you

unknown number

the one sitting across from you.

he keeps looking at you.

he keeps touching you. its pissing me off.

who is he?

you

he’s my friend

unknown number

sure.

well see how long that lasts. :)

read 12:48

you looked up from your phone, glancing towards bennett, and then around the small cafeteria which was packed with people, a shiver running down your spine.

whoever was texting you was here, and they were watching you.

𝟰.

‎‎‎unknown number has started a chat !

12:58 december 17th, 2024

unknown number

my beloved aconite, arent you supposed to be in class rigjt now?

right ***

ignore that.

and, most importantly, arent you supposed to be paying attention?

come on darling, on your phone in the one class i so happen to be in?

you can do this in chemistry or something. dont do it just when i so happen to be near you. i know for a fact you dont do this in any other class.

anyways, see you later ❤️❤️

read 13:02

𝟱.

you have started a chat !

09:27 december 18th, 2024

you

BENNETT

HELP KE

benny

Huh? Wht happened? R u ok?

you

THERE’S THIS GHY

OR GIRL I DON’T KNOW

AND I THINK HE’S STALKING ME OR SOMETHING

benny

Huh?? Wdym?

you

OKAY I DON’T KNOW IF HE’S STALKING ME

BUT HE’S GIVING ME REALLY FREAKY VIBES

HE KEEPS TEXTING ME

AND HE SAW ME TALKING TO YOU

AND THEN HE ASKED ABT THAT

AND HE WAS LIKE “HE WON’T BE YOUR FRIEND FOR LONG 🙂”

AND AND AND

APPARENTLY HE’S IN MY MATH CLASS???

AND HE SAW ME ON MY PHONE

JND TEHN HE TEXTED ME AND SCOLED ME

HELP WHAT DO I DO

benny

Just block him

you

I TRIED

IT’S NOT WORKING??

benny

Well I dont think u can do anything abt it besides that

Bc u dont hv any proof that he has any malicious intent

So uhm maybe just ignore him

Maybe hes just trolling u

you

yeah

maybe

read 10:01

you let out a sigh, putting your phone face down and burying your face in your arms.

what could you even do at this point? you didn’t have any proof they had any bad intent, and you couldn’t block them.

this whole situation was starting to freak you out. it didn’t help that you were pretty emotional and easily scared.

maybe you should look on the positive side. hey, someone finally has a crush on you!

you swallowed hard, breathing rapidly, heart racing. you buried your face deeper in your arms, scared of what was to come from this whole situation.

𝟲.

you exhaled shakily, a small fog appearing from it. you were shivering, the outside cold pinpricking your skin like tiny needles.

choosing fashion over warmth probably hadn’t been a good idea, but who cared? you liked dressing up. it was worth sacrificing your comfort for something you enjoyed! plus you would’ve been cold either way. it would be heated enough in the classroom anyway.

at least you hoped it would be.

you walked at moderately fast pace to your school, putting in your earbuds. you scrolled down your playlist on spotify, finally finding the song you had been craving to listen to. you clicked the play button on it, refraining from humming along to it.

you found yourself repeatedly glancing behind yourself, even though each time you looked no one was there. every time there was even the slightest of rustling able to penetrate through the sound of the music you were listening to, you’d jump, paranoid.

ever since you had received the first message, you had been on edge, and for good reason. this whole situation was extremely different from what you experienced in your day to day life.

before this, you hadn’t even known of anyone liking you romantically. it wasn’t that everyone hated you or something, you were just pretty shy, which led others to socialize with and notice you less.

a lot less.

it was a bit disappointing, but at least you had a few friends.

you had been lost in your train of thought too long. as you walked forward mindlessly, you hadn’t noticed a figure also walking in front of you.

you crashed into the person and staggered a little before regaining your balance.

luckily the person didn’t fall or anything, but instead stood rigid like a stone wall.

you gasped out a few apologizes, repeatedly saying “sorry”.

but you immediately shut up when the person turned around and when electric purple eyes met your own.

you swallowed hard, freezing as the person scowled at you.

𝟳.

“watch where you’re going,” the person muttered, still scowling at you. her loosely braided hair—a shade of bright purple, similar to that of an aconite, with some lighter purple highlights within it—fell down the front of her shoulder, and she pushed it back. the motion itself was filled with pure elegance and grace.

”i- uhm, sorry,” you mumbled, your neck getting hotter as you lowered your head a little in shame.

the girl rolled her eyes.

even that was full of daintiness and fluidity.

she sighed the slightest bit, seeming to soften a little.

”it’s fine, i guess. just watch where you’re going in the future.”

she mumbled those words quickly before turning and walking away briskly, pulling out her phone and rapidly texting someone whilst walking.

the sharp clicking of her heels was the only thing heard in the crisp and cold morning air.

suddenly, your phone buzzed. you took it out, hands trembling the tiniest bit.

‎‎‎unknown number has started a chat !

07:54 december 19th, 2024

unknown number

where are you?

youre in class by this time.

read 07:54

unknown number

answer me.

read 08:01

unknown number

stop fucking leaving me on read.

read 08:04

you have blocked unknown number !

…

your block was successful !

𝟴.

22:39 december 20th, 2024

unknown number

youre going to regret this so, so much my pretty aconite.

im going to pick all your petals off.

one

one. <3

your message was not able to be sent ! you may have been blocked by the recipient . if not, please try again later . if the problem persists, please contact customer support .

𝟵.

a few days had passed since you had blocked the number.

now you sat in class, chin placed in the palm of your arm. you felt eerily drowsy, but knew it was just because of how bored you were. the teacher droned on and on about some sort of math formula. you didn’t bother listening, knowing it would only make your head hurt if you tried to understand what was going on.

you were snapped out of your sleepy daze when the teacher said something about a “group project”. she said there would be groups of three or four, and that groups would be predetermined, but you could request to be put in a group with someone else.

the person sitting in front of you passed you the slip to request to be put into a group with someone.

you passed it to the person behind you after realizing what the slip was for.

you just had to be assigned a group project in the class you had no friends in. it could’ve been in literally any other class, but no, instead it was in the class where you barley knew anyone.

you didn’t put anyone on the slip because you barley knew anyone in the class, and the people you knew probably were already going to put someone else on the paper.

you put your head down in your arms, closing your eyes, listening to the erratic chatter around you.

what you didn’t notice was that, on the slip, someone had already put your name down alongside theirs.

𝟭𝟬.

you sighed softly, finally done with school for the day. you opened the door to your house, and were hit by the strong and unmistakable aroma of your favorite meal.

you stepped into your house, closing the door quietly and setting your backpack down. you greeted your mom, who greeted you back. she stood in the kitchen, cooking your favorite meal.

”can you go to the store for me? i need salt for this, but we ran out,” your mom stated, gesturing towards what she was cooking.

you nodded silently, turning to leave. you opened the door, closed it, and started walking to the store.

upon entering, you couldn’t help but notice how empty it was. usually there were at least a few other people, but right now you could only spot around four.

you walked around the store but, even after ten minutes of sauntering around, couldn’t find the salt for some reason. maybe you were going blind or something.

you decided to ask an employee, timidly walking up to one and tapping him on the shoulder.

he turned around, bright purple eyes meeting your own. a scowl, which didn’t quite seem to fit him, adorned his pretty face. his hair was a dull shade of purple, and light wispy bangs fell on his forehead. his skin was extremely clear and pale like porcelain, and looked as if it could shatter any second. the resemblance to a doll he bore was uncanny.

”what?” he snapped, glaring at you through his bangs.

”uhm, sorry to bother you, but, uh, do you.. do you know where the salt is?” you asked, fidgeting a little with your fingers.

he let out a long, deep sigh.

”yes. follow me,” he muttered, already walking towards the isle.

you followed in suit.

𝟭𝟭.

tentatively, you looked up from your hands to see who was in your group.

the first person you laid your eyes upon was a girl with light blue hair tied into an elegant and sleek ponytail with a black ribbon with golden streaks. she had a small beauty mark under one of her eyes, which were a pale shade of blue, matching her hair.

sitting beside her was a guy who was a bit taller than her. he had green eyes and messy honey-yellow hair that was tied into a ponytail with a scarlet red ribbon.

you moved your gaze to the last person.

he seemed oddly familiar, like you had seen him somewhere before. you couldn’t quite remember where though, maybe at park or store?

he had feathery bangs which fell down his forehead in a almost perfect matter. his hair itself seemed to be styled in a jellyfish cut of sorts, and was a dim shade of lavender. his eyes matched the color of his hair, and were narrowed to form a scowl on his pretty face. his skin was eerily pale, almost like porcelain.

the boy who you were just looking at let out what seemed to be an annoyed sigh, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes at something.

the blonde boy spoke up first.

”so, uhm.. hi. i’m thoma.”

following in suit, you all said your names after him.

thoma spoke again.

”do you guys have a phone number or something we can use to contact each other with for the project? i already have ayaka’s, so i just need you boths’.”

scaramouche shook his head.

”i don’t have access to my phone right now,” he muttered, still scowling

”oh.”

”we, uhm, we can use instagram or something to message each other?” you said, the slightest hint of nervousness lacing your voice.

”sure,” ayaka said.

scaramouche and thoma nodded in agreement.

you all wrote down your usernames on a piece of paper.

once you got home, you took out your phone, typing all their usernames into the search bar and following them one by one. after doing so, you added them all to a group chat.

𝟭𝟮.

you have started a chat !

18:12 december 27th, 2024

you

@.lookingforthoma

Hello.

@.hidingfromayaka

🤑

@.flowers4sc4ra

hi. ig.

@.hidingfromayaka

LMAOO WHY IS UR USERNAME THAT

UR ALWAYS SO EMO BUT NOW

”FLOWERS4SC4RA”

LMOA LMOA

@.flowers4sc4ra

shut the fuck up.

you

pls stop

@.flowers4sc4ra

sorry. ig.

@.hidingfromayaka

OMFG

HE KIST

USYT

JUST

SAID SORRY

TO U

SHEJSHWJAHAAKAKWK

you

okay anyway

there’s two parts on the project

i was thinking we could split up into teams of two and then each do one part or smth?

idk man 😭😭

@.lookingforthoma

That sounds good.

@.flowers4sc4ra

ok.

@.hidingfromayaka

i call dibs on working with ayaka 😛😛

1 user disliked

𝟭𝟯.

you stood in front of his house’s door, rocking back onto your heels and then up onto your toes, nervous. you clutched the bag you were holding—of which was filled with notebooks and various school supplies.

you were anxious, waiting for scaramouche to answer the door. it had only been a minute, but to you it felt like ten.

you couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. you didn’t know why or how or when or where, just that you had a bad gut feeling.

but you shook it off, knowing you had to work on the project.

all of the sudden the door opened, slamming against the wall in a violent manner, making you flinch a little, torn out of your thoughts.

you glanced at the doorway, laying your eyes on the indigo-haired boy.

”uhm, hi,” you mumbled, swallowing nervously.

”hi,” he replied, voice and face blank; devoid of any emotion, “uh, d’you wanna come in?”

you uttered a small okay, walking inside after he shuffled a little to the side.

“we can work in the living room, i guess.”

you nodded silently, following scaramouche as he walked to the living room.

upon arriving, you placed your bag—which you had been clutching so hard your knuckles had turned white—down. you both sat down on the ground, and, after taking your things out, started working on the project.

scaramouche was sitting slightly behind you, doing his part of the project. once every few minutes, he would lean his head over your shoulder—face almost touching it—in order to see what progress you had made.

your heart beat much, much faster every time he did it, face getting hot.

and of course that didn’t go unnoticed by scaramouche.

around an hour after working on the project, you asked scaramouche where the bathroom was.

”straight, then go left,” he said. he didn’t even glance up at you as he told you where to go, just continued writing on the notebook splayed out in front of him.

you got up, walking out of the living room and straight like he said.

only problem was you didn’t quite remember if he had said to go right or left after going straight.

you decided to go right, and came across a door. assuming it was the bathroom, you opened it.

you really wished you hadn’t after you saw what was inside.

𝟭𝟰.

after you had opened the door and seen what was inside, you really wished you hadn't.

inside there were hundreds and hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of photographs. they were plastered all over the walls, overlapping each other. they covered the ground, the walls, the ceiling, everything. the only things in the room besides that were a bed, a desk, and a computer monitor, which was lit up.

the bright screen blared at you, enticing you to come look.

the monitor displayed pictures of a house, probably running from security cameras or the like.

but it wasn't just any house, no.

it was your house.

your room.

your kitchen.

your living room.

your fucking house.

a wave of dizziness and nausea hit you. you felt sick to your stomach, leaning on the doorway for support.

then you heard something clattering behind you, falling to the floor.

you looked behind you, eyes wide.

scaramouche was standing there, frozen. he had dropped his phone to the ground, which had a photo of you working on the project opened on it.

”why the fuck are you in my room?” he burst out, almost yelling at you.

his room?

you became even more still than you were before, if that was even physically possible.

”y-you- your room?” you uttered, voice audibly shaking.

scaramouche just glared at you, hands fisted up.

then he took a step toward you.

you, in turn, stepped backwards.

the slightest rusting of paper was heard—presumably some of the photographs getting crushed underneath your feet.

he walked closer.

you backed away.

it was a vicious cycle which eventually ended when you bumped into a wall. some photographs fell down to the floor from the motion.

scaramouche cornered you in, staring at you with an unknown glint in his eyes.

it was a combination of everything you had made him fucking feel—obsession, anger, lovesickness, loathing.

he leaned in towards you, mouth almost touching your ear from how close he was. his hot breath fanned across your neck.

”well, since you’ve already seen everything, there’s no point in letting you leave now, hm? not when you’re right where i want you, my beloved aconite,” he whispered, pulling away. scaramouche grinned.

he stared at you with a mixture of emotions in his eyes, but the most prominent was limerence.

“you’re finally all mine. my aconite.”

256 notes · View notes

aayakashii · 3 months ago

Text

“Favorite movie.” Ren asks, staring at his cellphone's screen instead of you.

You purse your lips, thinking about it for a second, before coming up with your answer.

“Frances Ha.”

He scoffs.

“Frances what? Is this one of those cult french movies? Are you trying to sound intellectual right now? Be for real.”

You roll your eyes and look up from your own phone, where you were writing Ren's own answers to the 20 questions game you were forcing him to play.

Haru had almost begged you to try and actually become Ren's friend, just like a concerned father with a problem child. How could you possibly say no to one of the few people who liked you?

Ren isn't a problem child, though. He's just incredibly, terribly, horribly annoying.

“It's not a cult movie. Maybe if you didn't watch only B-horror movies, you'd know about it” you stick out your tongue and flip your middle finger at him.

The “Become friends with Ren” plan was going great.

“Oh yeah? Then tell me about it and I'll be the judge of whether or not it's worth watching.” he flips his own middle finger back at you and then grabs a chip from the ridiculously big bowl of snacks you had prepared for the game. You were pretty sure you had depleted Darkwick's stock of chips just to be sure you had at least one type Ren would like.

Hey, no one could ever say you'd ever half-ass a mission after all. Maybe Leo could. But he doesn't count.

“Since when are you the judge of whether or not movies are good? You'd give Rubber an Oscar if you could.”

Ren gasps at the mention of that movie, almost choking with the handful of chips he had stuffed in his mouth.

“You know Rubber?!” he mumbles almost incoherently in between chews.

“The horror movie about a freaking homicidal car tire? Yeah, Ren, I think everyone knows about that movie because it's basically a meme… You're the only one that takes it seriously” you sigh, shaking your head. Why weren't you surprised that he knew and liked that abomination. What was wrong with him. God.

He sneers at you, shrugging.

“You just don't get the irony of it. The sarcasm! And you also can't appreciate the special effects, okay? Don't blame me just because you're a close minded uncultured human.”

You groan loudly.

“Oh goooood, before you try to fight for that movie's honor, can we please continue the game?” you say, exasperated.

“Not before you tell me why you like the cult french movie.” he puts his phone on the table face down and dramatically crosses his arms, adamant about continuing on the same topic. Suddenly you could understand why Towa called him Wolfsbane.

“It's not french!” you sigh “Fine, what do you want to know?”

Ren hums in thought for a moment, tapping his chin with his index finger.

“Why do you like it?” he finally asks, and you widen your eyes.

You weren't actually expecting him to ask why you liked the movie. You thought he'd ask about the plot or the cast or the cinematography, but not about your personal connection to it. Maybe it was just a whim or pure and random curiosity, but you still grab that and run with the idea that he is finally warming up to you and getting interested in knowing about his new “friend”. Haru would probably accept that as a sign too.

“I… relate to the main character, I think. She's, uh. Messy, has a hard time with relationships and all that.” you try to answer, avoiding his gaze and scratching your head. How much could you share with him, truly? Does he REALLY want you to step on a soap box and tell all of the reasons why you like the movie and why you relate to the main character? You hardly see Ren as someone who likes emotional or deep things if his disdain for cult movies is anything to go by. So you just say the bare minimum.

Ren deadpans.

“Wow, you gave me so much information to work with right now.” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm.

You roll your eyes.

“Do you really want to know why I like it?”

“Well, yeah? That's why I asked?” Ren raises an eyebrow.

Huh. Okay, I guess. Here goes nothing, you think.

“Okay. There's this monologue in which she talks about what she wants from love.”

Ren groans, loud and dramatic, slapping his own forehead.

“Nooooooo! Not the cheesy shit!”

You shush him, getting flustered in spite of yourself.

“Goddammit Ren, I KNEW you'd act like this! But you asked! Now let me finish!” you croak, embarrassed, avoiding his eyes.

“She says she wants to love someone in such a way that... when her eyes meet the eyes of that person, even if they're distant or in a crowd, they know they have something special. Like there's a whole secret world between them. Then she would know that that is her person in this life.”

You pause for a moment.

“And in the end, you find out that this special person, for her, is actually her best friend! I like this idea, you know. This depiction of- of love. And that's… uh, that's it.” you finish, clearing your throat and getting more embarrassed with every word you said.

Ren stares at you in silence for a long while after you finish.

“Well?” you ask, anxiously.

He stretches his arms wide, elbows and shoulders popping after being hunched over the table for so long, and then leans back on his chair, folding his hands in front of him.

“Well. It is some cheesy shit after all.” Ren says, flatly.

And then he starts laughing.

Ohhhh, this JERK. You spilled your most personal thoughts about your favorite movie right in front of him and he had THE GALL to laugh and mock you!

You grab a handful of chips and quickly throw them at him. He shields himself with his hands, still laughing.

“Hey! That's harassment! Abuse of power!” He says in between his laughs. “I'll call Ritsu! I'll sue you! I have a case against you!”

“You're insufferable!” you yell, cheeks tingling with embarrassment, and you hide your mouth with your hands to keep him from seeing the small smile that was appearing on your lips at the sound of his laugh.

Right as you were going to grab another handful of chips to throw at him, the entrance door slams open, and Haru saunters in. The red head gasps loudly at the scene unfolding in front of him.

“Ohhh, will you look at that! Ren laughing! Now that's a sight for sore eyes!” Haru says, voice brimming with joy.

“Ugh… The creep is back” Ren quickly morphs back into his gloomy mood like his happy switch had been turned off at the mere sight of Jabberwock's captain.

He grabs his phone, putting it inside his pocket, before grabbing a handful of chips from the bowl.

“Wait, you're leaving? We barely started the game!” you protest, picking up the chips that had fallen to the ground during your "attack".

“Yeah, he ruined the mood, obviously” Ren says, rolling his eyes and quickly making way to the stairs that led to the bedrooms.

“Awww, don't be shy to interact with your friend, Ren!” Haru says, blatantly winking at you at the word ‘friend’.

Ren only grumbles a complaint, to which Haru just sighs and shakes his head. He turns to you, immediately changing the subject to some errand he would love to get some help since his dorm mates definitely weren't going to fulfill their responsibilities at all and how you are the only one he can trust.

As Haru goes on and on about how you'd be a lifesaver if you just lent him a hand for a moment, your eyes flit towards the top of the stairs.

Ren was slowly dragging his feet through the last steps, lazily looking down at where you were standing.

Your eyes meet despite the distance between you two and, even though he blushes, startled, when you meet his stare, he sustains your gaze.

You smile.

Get it? Get it? Please tell me you got the end

Anyway here's the monologue mentioned in this fic! Frances Ha isn't my favorite movie but I love it deeply <3 wrote this on a whim because there's barely any Ren love here! I know he's this close 🤏 to being an incel but we can fix him 😔

#tokyo debunker #ren shiranami #tokyo debunker ren shiranami

124 notes · View notes

ianthewife · 2 months ago

Text

im a liar that lies so okay here it is by popular demand of like one and a half people

Ranking the silt verses characters that i find attractive and why (nobody look at me insane addition):

1. Val — every time she talks or does anything at all, all the blood rushes away from my brain and i fall unconscious hitting my head on the way down that’s honestly probably why i am this way. the gruesome mess and utter devastating tragedy of her existence is so hot to me. she can turn me into a chair whenever she wants to. all this to say: Val please please please please just one chance—

2. Mercer — a nasty obsessed honestly insane woman with zero hinges? ummm yes please? the way she says “mine” before a kill is doing some certain things to me but i shan’t say. love when she is cackling wildly going insane and murdering people. which means always. mercer call me back

3. Sibling Rane — always smiling when i think of them, their laughter has saved my life. cultist of the month the year the life and my heart. fuck it, ill convert to the Trawler-man bullshit even, im down. we are having a spring outdoor wedding with shrimp cocktail bar and everyone is invited. the ceremony will be wonderful and if they want to drown some people during it well whatever my beautiful spouse says

4. Carpenter — no explanation needed i think. she is everything to me on every single level, my love for her is vast and endless and soaring high in the sky. she has never and i say NEVER done anything that i would think is unattractive. i will forever and ever hold her in my heart. also DAMN her voice-

5. The Saint Electric — id fuck her. straight up. please don’t ask me why she is so high on the list

6. Hayward — when he is extremely pathetic or extremely goofy. he makes me laugh that’s all i need from a fictional man. also that one occasion in the end of s1 when he was screaming wildly i think that’s was hot i mean who said that-

7. Paige — putting fucking hayward over paige feels like blasphemy but i can’t help the way i feel. Fighting against doom is so hot. Yes baby quit your marketing job to birth a god. Can i run away with you? Also when she is angry and determined and her voice is sharp with frustration and- well you get it

8. Faulkner — when he is being insane or using that ridiculous goofy ass evil cult leader voice. i said what i said.

9. Shrue — when they are in the middle of a mental breakdown or beating the shit out of Carson. i love how they sound when they are distressed and at the end of their fucking rope<3

10. Cross — yep. you heard me. i won’t even apologize or deny this. baby, are you perchance looking for a 4th ex-wife? tbh would love to ruin this man even further. he is 1. hilarious (big time) 2. pathetic (BIG time) and that’s all i need to like a fictional man

11. Charity — idk i think we could have fun, she’d chase me through the woods and then… well, i digress

12. Carson — now NOW everyone STEP BACK and put your rifles down let me explain— this poisonous slug of a man is the most disgusting, sinister, sleazy, inhuman, heartless, cruel, reprehensible thing i have ever witnessed. i want to garrote the living shit out of him and smash his head through a concrete wall. and maybe in this unrepentant desire for violence against this man there is something slightly sexually charged?.. i… honestly don’t know and i will not examine it. also he talks as if he is constantly whimsically kicking his feet which makes me want to kill both him and myself.

#the silt verses #tsv #yep that’s it #would love to hear other people’s opinions like who is your top three

81 notes · View notes

maybegays-blog · 8 months ago

Text

Ethereal Chemistry

Prologue

Lady Dimitrescu x Scientist! Reader

All Chapters

Warnings: Rushed

—

The faint hum of machinery filled the air as you worked diligently in your lab, surrounded by beakers, test tubes, and the soft glow of monitors. Your latest project was coming along nicely.

Just as you were about to delve into the next phase of your research, a familiar voice echoed through the intercom.

"Hey there, [Y/n], mind stepping into my office for a sec?" It was Alan, your colleague and occasional partner in mischief.

You paused, a mix of curiosity and caution flickering within you. Alan's sudden request for a meeting wasn’t unusual, to say the least.

But as you were busy with your project, annoyance built up at being interrupted.

‘Ugh, what does he want now?’ You muttered to yourself, pinching the bridge of your nose in irritation.

With a sigh, you set aside your work and made your way to his office, your footsteps echoing in the empty hallway.

Pushing open the door, you found Alan seated behind his desk, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. "Ah, there you are," he said, motioning for you to take a seat. "I've got something I want to run by you."

You settled into the chair opposite him, your curiosity piqued. "What's on your mind?" you asked, curiosity evident in your voice.

The man leaned back in his chair, his expression serious yet tinged with excitement. "You ever heard of Mother Miranda and the four lords?" he began, his tone measured and deliberate, curiosity shining in his eyes.

You quirked your eyebrow at the sudden question. "You mean that cult Chris was so worked up about?" you asked, a flicker of unease creeping into your voice.

He nodded solemnly. "Yes."

His determination seemed to intensify at the mention of Chris.

But there was something in his demeanor that set off alarm bells in your mind. The way he couldn’t hold eye contact, the slight twitch of his lips—it was clear that he was hiding something.

"Alan, what aren't you telling me?" you pressed, your voice tinged with suspicion.

He hesitated, his gaze flickering to the floor before meeting yours once more. "Okay, I may have... hacked into some important files," he admitted, his tone sheepish.

"You what?!" Your eyes widened, a mixture of shock and concern coursing through you.

The gravity of his confession weighed heavily on your mind. You both knew very well that this could get him fired, or even worse.

"You shouldn't be hacking into any files, Alan! How do you ‘accidentally’ hack anyway?"

"I was just try’na gather information. You know, for research purposes!" His tone grew louder as he tried defending his actions.

You rolled your eyes and sighed, crossing your arms. "Whatever. Why did you call me in here?"

He took a deep breath, his eyes gleaming with newfound determination. "I have a plan," he began, his voice steady. "We gather the necessary resources and equipment in the village, discreetly, of course. Then, we'll put it to good use."

As he vaguely outlined his plan, you couldn't help but feel a knot form in your stomach.

This entire thing felt wrong. The risks were too great, the consequences too dire. But your colleague seemed unfazed, his confidence unwavering.

"Come on, [Y/N]," he urged, leaning in closer. "With your expertise and Astrid's help, we could make this happen. Think of the knowledge we could uncover, the things we could achieve!"

You hesitated, torn between your curiosity and the sense of foreboding that lingered in the back of your mind.

But when he mentioned Astrid, your other friend,(and his sister), joining the venture, a glimmer of hope flickered within you. If Astrid was on board, maybe together you could keep an eye on Alan and ensure things didn't spiral out of control.

With a heavy sigh, you nodded reluctantly. "Fine, I'm in," you said, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "But we need to be careful. We can't afford to make any mistakes."

Alan grinned, a spark of excitement dancing in his eyes. "Don't worry," he reassured you. "Together, with you and Astrid, we've got this covered."

#lady dimitrescu x reader #lady alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #re8 village #resident evil village #re8 x reader #lady dimitrescu x fem reader #fanfiction #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitriscu x reader #re8 lady dimitrescu #re x reader

141 notes · View notes

justporo · 6 months ago

Note

Poro,

Do you ever think about what Astarion looks like when hunting small prey like rabbits? Does he do his little gremlin run? Or does he run like a horse girl who pretends to be a horse?

Hey Andie, first of all:

FGBBGEBGFWEG, HORSE GIRL??

Omg, can you imagine. For real though, I mean he hasn't really hunted anything of consequence for two hundred years. Maybe I am trying to rationalise his stupid way of running away (don't get me wrong, I love when he's being cringe lol) but I do imagine him being more like a cat being ready to pounce.

But I do have more thoughts about him hunting.

For starters we all know the bear scene. Not only does he seem drunk on all that blood but it also sounds like he enjoyed hunting and taking down a bear - like the actual thrill of the hunt. And bears are fucking MASSIVE (insert obvious reference to DiCaprio and The Revenant here), even for a vampire spawn (a debuffed one at least) it's a feat to achieve. So what I am trying to say is: he didn't even *really* hunt while he was under Cazador, he's never really gotten to feel either that predatory thrill nor does he have any real experience.

So here's my personal headcanon for how Astarion feeds himself after the events of the game:

As he's settld down with Tav in Baldur's Gate (at least in my personal HC and for the time being) I guess it would be pretty time consuming to always go out hunting in the woods every night. I would absolutely assume Astarion doesn't take the blood of innocents - even without killing them - since he's had enough of hurting them under Cazador. If people give blood willingly, that's game, or foes of course.

I could imagine they find a local butcher and source blood from there, somewhere in the Lower City where people don't ask questions about what the hells they wanna do with all that blood from the butchering ("Cult or something? Gods above and below, please not another...").

Is that very tasty? Well depends probably but mostly it's okay, enough to nurture Astarion and still better than vermin...

Obviously - and this is something that irks me in canon - Astarion can't take Tav's blood each and every single night (I mean yeah, lesser restoration and such but I like to think that it's still unrealistic). This is more like a special treat to Astarion: like a good wine, a rich dessert (maybe spicy even, if you get what I'm saying).

Sometimes Astarion does go out for a good hunt though, every once in a while. Because that's the only way to get fresh blood in abundance. It's also a way he can embrace his more animalistic side, enjoy a good hunt - without feeling guilty about it. And I like to think he embraces this part of himself a bit more and gets to thrive in it a little.

Oh and also can you imagine how an Astarion, still riled up from a demanding hunt comes home to Tav in their joint bed - blood still smeared all over him....?

Because *I* can....

#poro answers #astarion #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #poro headcanons

73 notes · View notes

staytinyville · 1 year ago

Text

OUTLAW (36)

ATEEZ poly!ot8 x Reader

Cowboy AU / Wild West

Series Masterlist

Warning: none

A/N BETA READ (@mariana-mmtz).

Once you saw that the boys seemed to have gotten over their initial shock about the information Grimes had, you thought it would be okay to ask Yunho for that talk he promised you. You found him in his and Yeosang’s tent going through some things.

“Are you gonna tell me about this cult now?” You asked, taking a seat on the bedroll.

Yunho turned around when you spoke, sighing as he remembered what he had said. “It's a long story.” He told you.

“I have time.” You said, patting the spot next to you.

He gave you a grin, taking a seat behind you instead. You smiled softly, leaning back into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, bringing you closer.

“On the outskirts of Aurora, there's this small compound called Strickland.” He began. “It's run by some guy named Z who acts as mayor basically. It has a lot of things inside it that can have it pass as its own town, honestly–has a city hall and academy. It's self sustainable, basically.”

“However, it's not at all what one sees from the outside.” You felt Yunho drop his head onto yours, tucking you under his chin.

“I'm assuming that's where the cult is hiding. Within the compound?” You spoke up.

“It's the entire compound, actually.” Yunho told you. “Sciensalver is the cult run by this chemist.”

“A chemist? Why?”

“Because he's trying to create a drug to turn people into emotionless capsules.” Yunho tightened his grip on your stomach for a moment before letting go.

It was obvious the boys all had their anger against whoever this cult was. You didn’t have any information with them, but if they were trying to make people do things against their will, it was obvious they were the worst kinds of criminals. You scoffed at the idea of them just living their life while your boys had to scavenge for food and find a place that wouldn’t turn them in to the police.

“Within the compound, the police of Aurora won't dare to get involved. They just turn a blind eye to them.” He added.

You began to think of Klein and how he was involved in the whole thing. Hongjoong was right when he said people change. However, to change so drastically to the point where he wanted to command people? That was something different all together. What could Klein possibly need emotionless citizens for?

“But then why would the mayor of Cromer be involved with them?” You asked.

“We'd have to ask Klein himself.” Yunho answered.

It had been a while ago when Klein first raised the taxes. It was a hardly noticeable incline two years ago. Your parent’s thought nothing of it because the city was growing and things needed to get done in order to have a better infrastructure. However, in the past year, he’s raised taxes once every month.

It wasn’t so long ago that the taxes raised 2 percent from the last billing. You could only imagine how much it would be this coming month. People were starting to complain, but the mayor was refusing to hold a town meeting over it. The citizens weren’t getting answers and you were starting to figure out why.

“What's going through your pretty head?” He asked, after he noticed how quiet you had gotten. He placed his chin on your shoulder, rubbing your cheek with his.

“Ever since Klein appointed a new judge, he started raising the taxes. Slowly at first, but he must be getting greedy.” You explained.

“Who's the judge?” Yunho asked.

“Thomas Quaid, he's been judge for two years maybe?” You pondered. “A bit more.”

“Where's he from?” Yunho frowned, scooting over a bit to look at you properly.

“Aurora.” You spoke quietly.

Thomas Quiad was appointed judge around the same time Klein first started raising taxes. While you had only met him in person when you married Yeosang the other day, you had heard from your parents the kind of campaign he was running to be appointed county judge.

“I don't think Klein is taking money from the people without knowing where it's going. He has been one of the greatest mayors Cromer has ever had. He would never take from the poor when he himself knows what it's like.” You explained.

“And?” Yunho shrugged.

“I think Quaid has something to do with Sciensalver. He's probably feeding Klein lies.” You answered.

“We'll add it to the plan.” He hummed, scooting back behind you.

He moved his hands to your hips, wanting you to turn around to face him. Instead, you only turned to your side, tucking your head under his chin as your legs fell over his thighs.

You began to think to yourself about how much Yunho seemed to know about that man. This was part of their backstory. The reason they all came together. They had something to do with the Black Pirates–of which you still had no clue of–but you figure they were the group trying to take down Strickland.

This was your chance at finding out more of their story. You held yourself back so many times, but you were a part of their family now and families knew everything about each other. Just like you told them your story, you wanted to learn about theirs.

“Yunho?” You asked quietly.

“Yes, Angel?” He hummed.

“How do you guys know all this about Strickland?” You asked.

Yunho sighed, placing a hand on your thigh to pull you closer. “We were born into it.”

“Our families all had ties to Strickland–they were a part of the compound.” He began. “It was sad because most of the people there have no clue, but we knew the truth. They don't know about what their so-called mayor is doing to people.”

“The Black Pirates captured Yeosang once, so we all went to rescue him. It was where we learned about the stuff they were making inside. So we joined with the black pirates to help them take down Sciensalver.” He explained.

“Things were fine for a while, but we got caught taking information we weren't supposed to. That's why we went our separate ways a year ago. Cromer was gonna be our rendezvous point after everything blew over. However, Mingi and Joong became outlaws, so that was a mayor problem.” He snickered at the end.

You turned around in his lap, legs straddling his waist. “But you guys made it work.” You smiled.

“Yeah, we always do.” He told you softly. “We've been doing this for a long time.”

“We start the plans now.” Hongjoong called from outside the tent. You both turned as he opened up the flap. “Everything has changed with this new information.”

He turned around, grinning at you. “Princess? Mind helping?”

Series Masterlist

@thefrog3223 , @iarayara , @0rangemilk , @explorewithd , @detectivedoodle , @bangtanxberm , @a1i33a , @loveforred , @drunken-deitence , @0325tiny , @the-ghostest-with-the-mostest , @atinyreads , @atinytinaa , @lexiigom , @smilingtokki , @mismatchfluffysocks , @brain-empty-only-draken , @sousydive , @alex-tinyyy , @h3arteyes4mingi , @onedumbho3 , @popcatx0 , @blue1amory , @mommahwa1117 , @sunnyhokyu , @cloudieclair , @araknoid , @starjoongi1117 , @chel-awingcherry , @puppyminnnie ,

205 notes · View notes

a-grayscale · 7 months ago

Text

Okay hear me out on this one, you know how during your run ins with the bishops during Crusades and such during the game they all seem relatively okay despite their injuries? (Relatively as in they’re definitely not actually okay, but they can still function just fine) Is it just me, or is that relative okayness most definitely because the crowns helped hold them together?

Like, the most obvious example of this I can think of would be Heket being able to speak during our encounters with her despite not having her throat. I feel like it’s pretty obviously the case there, right? The crown is allowing her to speak through it. I think that the other crowns allowed the bishops to function with their injuries by sorta holding them all together in godhood, yeah? We on the same page there?

Okay, hear me out. Narinder has serious, possibly chronic pain in his arms and probably also legs.

I mean, the guy was chained in place for a thousand years, there’s no way that’s not painful. More on that, considering we don’t know exactly HOW MUCH leeway those chains had(it’s obviously not a lot, but we don’t know if there was any at all or if it was one or two possible positions ever for 1000 years) there’s a good chance his bones and muscles and the ligaments and everything weakened over time to the point of being really fragile and brittle. We don’t know if he always had skeletal arms, maybe that was a symptom?

What does this have to do with the crowns holding the bishops injuries together? Well, what if the reason he didn’t move a whole lot during the boss battle was because he didn’t have his crown and thus, was in a lot of pain? I mean, we’ve all seen the boss battle, the dude hits hard but it’s almost always with chains or fire, or summoning enemies while he floats around. What if that’s because he hurt too much to move any more?

I think that’d add a really interesting dynamic between him and his desire for the crown, as well as his dynamic with the cult as a whole. A big reason he might want the crown back is because it helped dull the pain it’s bearer felt, just as the other crowns did to keep their respective bearers from falling apart.

I think it’d affect his dynamic and relationships within the cult because, like the other bishops post indoctrination, he wouldn’t have the luxury of a magic crown that helped with the pain. I’m not too familiar with chronic pain, but from what I’ve heard and seen and been told, it fucking sucks. I can’t imagine Narinder’s being any less sucky, at least not for a long long LOOOONG time. And when I say long time, I mean LOOONG TIME.

I think it’d also affect his relationships with say, the other bishops for example. Not to say that everything about them isn’t an absolute MESS already, cause it absolutely is, but I think they’d all feel at least a little guilty about the injuries they caused each other, even if they don’t admit it aloud. I mean, I’m no emotional undertones expert, but some of the dialogue leads me to believe they still at least CARE about each other somewhat as family. (Mostly mean Shamura’s dialogue during their bishop encounters, Narinder’s dialogue when receiving the silk from silk cradle, and Leshy’s line still calling Narinder his brother when asking the Lamb to retrieve his eye) Again, I’m no expert on feelings so I might be wrong here, but if you care about someone who you see is hurting, hurting BECAUSE OF YOU… I mean, even if it was self defense I’d still feel pretty fucking guilty personally, so there’s a good chance they’d probably feel the same.

I also think this pain Narinder has could affect his relationship with the Lamb(regardless of if you ship them or not, I do personally but you do you boo <3) I mean, they ARE still the leader of the flock. Narinder is now part of said flock. So he really is their responsibility. I feel like it would be a learning curve for both of them to at least SOME degree. Narinder hasn’t been without a crown that can dull the sense of pain until now so he probably doesn’t know wtf to do, and while The Lamb might have more experience from helping their followers who could also have had chronic issues, they’d still be pretty in the dark about it. I think it’d be a rough but necessary road for them both to cross in order to understand and help Narinder.

But this is all just head canon talk, so it might not matter. Idk but I hope it was interesting at least, or that it helped form some lovely little brainworms! Goodbyyyeeeee-

#cult of the lamb #cotl #cotl narinder #cotl lamb #narilamb #just a smidge #cotl leshy #cotl shamura #cotl heket #aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa #If there’s anything else you headcanon #Feel free to comment #I’d love to hear any input

71 notes · View notes

kurooandkenmasslut · 2 years ago

Text

HIS HEART!

DOUMA X F!READER! X ?

Summery: after being shut out of your abusive parents house in the cold, icy weather, you thought no one could save you or help you now. Oh how you thought wrong.

Warnings: This story contains strong, hurtful language. Such as cursing, names (like slut, bitch, useless), mention of some blood. Spoilers of season 3 and 2. This story had two alternative endings, so if you don't want it to end this way, you can read the other one! Alternative n2 is you get with s1 else so! I might change this up a bit later on, so keep your eyes peeled!! (Change as in adding more detail and dome heavy manga spoilers!) Enjoy!

"Get out you useless slut! Nobody wants you here!" Your father screamed. Your mother was beside him, her brown eyes glaring down at your weak frame. They hit you, beat you, and tied you to your room wall. They even taped your mouth shut to muffle your pained screams. Your father grits his teeth as he untied you and threw you out the door and slammed the door shut.

You had some major injuries. Like a stab in your hip, arm so close to dislocating, legs in cuts and bruises, and ankles burning from the harsh ropes. But you ran and ran. You panted, finding it hard to breathe, legs wobbling. Your mind is hazy and your legs were about to fail you, your eyes started close down, as the air around you seemed suffocating.

But just as you were about to collapse and never rise again, you fell into a muscular chest, almost warm, but then again, cold. Your head slowly twitched up, and your (e/c) got lost in this mysterious rainbow one, lashes long, creamy white hair framing this mysterious person's face.

"P..p-please h-help m..me.." you barely rasped out. You haven't got water in days, and it showed. Long fingers touched your face, long claws lightly scraped your smooth face. "It's okay my dear, just close your eyes." He whispered, his voice sounded welcoming, but it almost sounded evil, and it was like your mind was telling you to run and not close your eyes, but you obeyed his wishes and closed your eyes.

Your ears rang and you heard muffled voices, and you shifted a bit and opened your eyes, blinking repeatedly. After you opened your eyes, the voices stopped, and it slightly alarmed you. This isn't your dirty ceiling, it was more of a... clean one. You propped yourself on your elbows and held your head closing your eyes in pain. ow, you sure got a massive headache. "Ah! It seems like you've woken up!" The voice started you, and you shot your eyes open. There he sat, the mysterious guy. His white, unusual pale face, rainbow eyes, red top, and black drips coming down from it. His hat seemed to have the same pattern. His beige and baggy trousers matched his outfit.

"Wh..where am I?" You mumbled, eyes scanning the room. You looked down at your body, noticing the bandages. 'Looks like I've been treated, maybe this isn't a bad place.. maybe someone from the village took me in? He doesn't look like anyone I know from the village though..' You thought.

"You are in my home! Dont be afraid my dear beauty, I don't bite! Oh, how rude of me! I didn't even introduce myself!" He said, and chucked at his silliness. He got up from his seat and started walking over to you. "My name is Douma/Doma! What's your name, my darling?~" He cooed and ran his index finger along your chin. "(N-Name) (L/N).." you softly whispered.

'Ahh! She's so adorable! Not to mention a fine beauty! Way prettier than the girl I ate yesterday, and prettier than Daki! Hm~ maybe I won't eat her just yet..' Douma/Doma thought and grinned, showing his fangs. "Well then! You are now a part of my cult my dear!" He cheered. "...cult?" You questioned, tilting your head sideways. "Mhm!" He hummed. He didn't want to make you into a demon, but if he had to, he unfortunately would.

TIMESKIP!

It's been a few months now, and you've already warmed up to Douma/Doma. And now, you think you've fallen for him. He consistently treated you well, fed you, made sure you slept well, he made sure you had the best time with him. But the only thing was that he didn't take you out in the daytime, which made you question it, but quickly shut the thought down and just thought that he was busy during the daytime.

But recently, a new woman came in and he had taken an obvious liking to her. Seemingly, according to Douma/Doma, she had previously been in an abusive relationship with her husband while she was pregnant, her name was. Kotoha Hashibira.

And honestly, she was a kind and lovely woman, but you were jealous. You fear that Douma/Doma liked her better than you, and you could see that she had taken a liking to him, and he did too. He's more around her ever since she gave birth to her baby, Inosuke. He looked so adorable, you even got to hold him. "I think he likes you!" Kotoha giggled, her smile was genuine and warm, maybe Douma did deserve her.

You closed the shoji door gently and flopped onto your futon as tears slipped from your eyes. You covered your body in your duvet and hid your face with your hands. After all the times you spent with him, he loves her now. You loved Douma and Kotoha, you did and you tried to suck it up and face reality but it hurts, it hurts seeing your saviour, the one who saved you, the one who took care of you, the one you loved being with another woman.

You sniffed before setting your plan in your head to talk to him about it. You slid the door open and walked down the hallway you'd walked down for the millionth time, only to see Kotoha running with Inosuke in her arms, her facial expression showed that she was genuinely terrified, horrified. After Kotoha ran past, a few seconds later Douma almost flew past. "Lord Douma! I need to speak with you!" You said, but he only snapped his head back at you, his gorgeous, breathtaking eyes, now have some writing in them. Uppermoon Two. Uppermoon two? What does that mean? Your eyes adverted over down to his face, around his mouth. ..human blood? That would explain the pale skin and the fangs.

But he only ran in the same direction Kotoha had run. His head makes a mental note to deal with you later. You widened your eyes. Sure, you had a few thoughts run through your head when you met him. He was pale, he had razor-sharp nails, not the kind of nails humans would, and he had fangs, it was unusual to have multiple colours in your eyes like him, but you never questioned it because, after all, he did save you.

After they both left, you went back into your room, completely speechless. You didn't comprehend what to do. You've heard stories from the town about demons.

Alternative ending n1: if you stayed.

You decided to stay, after all, your heart beats, and pounds when he's near, and your body just couldn't move an inch towards the door to escape. After all, he did 'save' you.

You heard light footsteps coming to your door, the same familiar light steps, he took. The loud knocks rang throughout the room, making you shiver. "My darling~? May I come in~?" He sang, you rasped out a somewhat affirmative and the door slid open revealing Douma himself.

He closed the door and slowly walked over to you. "Hm. I guess it's not a secret anymore huh?~" He cooed. He put his right hand under your chin and put his face closer to yours. "Say.. instead of being a weak human.. why don't you come and join me, my dear.. we can live together forever! I won't let anything happen to you. you can be my forever bride! Maybe even be an upper moon alongside me! Come with me, come with me..." He chanted. You couldn't give in. Youu couldn't.. oh who were you kidding? Of course, you were gonna give in to him, you loved him.

"I... I will come with you, Lord Douma.." you said, which made him laugh in pleasure, grinning widening his eyes, which made him long a little crazy.

He stuck his finger in your neck, pumping his blood in you. After a good portion, he put his finger out. The blood affected you, and it was obvious. The blood made you choke and hold your throat, and you passed out.

You opened your eyes, wincing at the light. But Douma quickly stuck his head in your vision, his smiling face looking down at you. "My oh my! You look more beautiful than before! Akaza is going to be so jealous! Do you know who Akaza is? He's my best friend! Even though he doesn't show it, I know he label's me as his best friend too! But I think he's just so moody because he was an upper moon before me, but I'm still ranked above him!" He ranted, and you tilted your head.

"What's an uppermoon?" You questioned, and he answered you, and you both talked all night. "Say, wanna go out for some dinner, I heard your stomach rumbling!~" He teased, which made you blush and nod.

Eventually, you flew passed all the ranks and were officially upper moon two, alongside Douma, just like he said. Muzan had liked your strength and confidence, so, he let you be upper moon two.

"Ah, it seems like you are here too, akaza-san!" You said, you and akaza were in the infinity fortress, which could only mean one thing, a uppermoon has fallen. "I guess.." akaza said, eyes trailing around the castle. You got startled when you felt something on your back, which made you glance behind you, but shook off the tense feeling when you saw Douma'a gorgeous face.

"Hello, my dear! I wonder what happened." He trailed off and nuzzled his face in your neck, and you saw from the corner of your eye to see akaza fake gagging. You saw a vase in the corner, and you almost forgot who it was when it started shaking. That was when Gyokko, uppermoon five came out, also the one who smelt like fish.

"Oi! Biwa woman! Where are Kokushibo and Lord muzan?" Akaza yelled. "I summoned Kokushibo here first, he has been listening to your conversation. And muzan will come in shortly."

During the meeting, Gyokko had mentioned something about how he knew something but wasn't sure of it, and that had scintillated you and Douma's attention, so after the meeting, you two tried to talk to him.

"Gyokko~ can you pleeaassseee tell me? I promise to treat you after~!" You poked fun at, trying to get him to take the bait. Gyokko blushed before shaking his head. "I'm not telling you (Name!)" He yelled. And that's when Douma picked his head up and asked him, which he denied.

Suddenly, Akaza came up behind Douma and hit him, causing his face to fall apart. But he regenerated in a blink of an eye and grinned. "Oi! Akaza! Hit him again and I swear to god-" "now now now (name!) Play nice! We were just playing! After all, he's just jealous!" He said and laughed, making a vein pop out of his head. "Why you-" He yelled, ready to land a good hard punch on him, but that's when Kokushibo came in.

"Akaza." He said, a place with Kokushibo is always intimidating and always has tension. You've always admired him, for his strength and his seriousness. You admit you get a small shiver down your back, and it seems like Akaza had visibly shaken.

While that was all happening, you saw Gyokko trying to slip away. "Biwa lady! Teleport me to the place with Hantengu!" "OI!" But it was too late, he had evaporated, along with the demon. And it seemed like everyone disappeared too, well, except Douma of course, he would never leave you. The strum of the Biwa had sent you back to your home with Douma, in a specific position, you were sat on his lap, making you blush violently. He brushed his hands on your thighs, trailing down further. "Say.. how about we have some alone time?" He grinned, and you agreed.

Alternative ending n2: if you escaped.

As Kotoha passed by, she managed to catch a glimpse of you and she mouthed, 'Run'. You trusted her, and you misjudged her. And so you ran back to your room before Douma caught sight of you and started packing your important stuff before running out the other door, in the other direction. You thought he was a demon, after all, you saw him feasting on a human, and you saw his eyes, which had 'Uppermoon Two' written in them. You realised that he didn't 'save' you, the only thing he saved you from was himself, he waited for the perfect time to eat you. So, you had no choice but to run, it was a good chance anyways since he'd always had an eye on you.

You ran and ran, and ran, keep running, you chanted, run run run run, and you paused for a break. You panted before looking up. You saw a man, he had white hair, he turned around, his purple eyes widening at your frame. "Oi! You there! What are you doing?!" He yelled. You ran over to him.

"I'm (Name) L/N! I have a long story but please can we go somewhere else!? A demon is going to be looking for me and eat me!" "I'll take care of him for you." "NO DON'T! HE'S AN UPPERMOON TWO!" You screamed. He was shocked. He doesn't know who you are, and you don't know who he is. You don't seem to be in the demon Slayer Corps, so how do you know what a uppermoon is? After he heard uppermoon, uppermoon two to be exact, he knew it would be dangerous, especially since he didn't prepare, and he was injured, plus, it wouldn't calm you down if he waited for the demon to come over.

"Fine, come with me." He grumbled he grabbed your hand and started sprinting. You could see that he was way faster than you since he was dragging you.

"Where are we going?" You asked. "We're going to the Demon slayer corps, but it's too far away, so we'll have to get a place to stay for the night before going again. But tomorrow we'll be there." He said sternly. He seemed to take the job seriously. You took in his appearance. His hair was all messed up, scars roamed everywhere on his body, and there was no blank place on his body where a scar can't be seen, 'he must've been a tough and brave fighter', you thought. His uniform showed his buff chest, making you blush a bit. He had white sleeves, he lifted his hand to itch his face, noticing how they were scars on his arms too. He had a white belt with trousers. But the two things that popped out for you were that he had a unique sword, and you assumed it was for a demon, and the other thing was that.... he had no eyebrows. But you didn't mind.

"Oi! Stop staring at me, it's getting creepy!" He scolded you, and you jumped and blushed. He was handsome, you had to admit. "So... um... what's your name?" You asked, you wanted to be friends with him.. possibly even more.

"Sanemi Shinazugawa." He said, he didn't even ask for yours but you said it anyways. "My name is (Name) L/N! Nice to meet you!" "Yeah I know, you said it already." He grumbled and rolled his eyes. You looked down and realised he was still holding your hand, but his hands felt warm, so you didn't complain.

"So what happened?" He asked after a few minutes of walking in the village. "I'll tell you later." You mumbled, he understood, they're were people everywhere so explaining your life story with people listening wasn't the best idea.

After you two got to the place where you two were staying, you started explaining. He was listening well, and centralized.

After you finished explaining, it was silent for a few seconds before he asked you a few more questions. He told you it's best if you bathe and prepare for the next day, so you did.

"hah?! There's only one bed?!" Sanemi yelled and you blushed. "I can sleep on the floor if you want?" "Okay" He mumbled and you smiled. You walked over to the bed and grabbed the spare pillow and blanket and lay on the floor.

"I didn't mean literally, you idiot." He mumbled, but you were that tired you didn't even hear what he said since you were fast asleep. He grumbled before putting his hands under your knees and back and lifting your body onto the futon. "Tch.. silly woman.." He mumbled to himself and fell asleep.

The sun shone brightly through the window. You yawned and opened your eyes. Another day yet again. You got up and did your usual stuff, like brushing your hair, and your teeth and changing out of your pyjamas. It seemed Sanemi still hasn't woken yet, and the earlier we are, the closer we are to safety.

"Shinazugawa! Wake up!" You said, lightly shaking him. You sighed, he must be a deep sleeper. "SHINAZUGAWA!!" You yelled and he woke up startled. "OI! WHY ARE YOU YELLING?!" "TO WAKE YOU UP FOR FUCKS SAKE??"

(You'd swear that the people next door to you is pissed and reporting you and sanemi to you to the staff.)

After that lazy ass Sanemi, got up and did what was necessary, you two hit the road again. "Hey, what age are you?" "19." (Let's pretend he is in my au 💋) "Wow! I'm 18! Our ages are so close!" You squealed and Sanemi just looked at you dumbfounded.

Finally, after you got to the Demon Slayer Corps, he dragged you over to some man called, 'Kagaya Ubuyashiki's estate.'

"Hello my dear child, welcome back. How was your journey?... It seems another presence is in the room. Who is this person, my child?" He softly questioned. Sanemi explained who you were and your story to you. Kagaya nodded his head in understanding.

"Well then, Welcome to the Demon Slayer Corps, (Name) L/N."

Timeskip!

Two years ago you were promoted as the ' Wisteria Pillar.' You helped Shinobu with her poisons and meditation for patients. You were happy with your job, as a hashira, and as a nurse.

"Oi! (Name)! Wanna go to the town?" Sanemi asked, and you nodded your head eagerly. You've taken a great liking to Sanemi, and you hoped he did too. You hid your sword under your lilac haori and tried not to scare the people in the village not far.

You and Sanemi went from market to market, but one, in particular, caught your gaze. "Hey hey hey 'Nemi! Look at this! This matches your eyes!" You squealed. It was a cute bracelet that had some shades of purple and some charms on it was white.

"'Nemi I'm gonna make you wear this!" "I'm not gonna wear that stupid band around my wrist." He said and rolled his eyes. "Please please please ~ ill get one for me too to match you!" "Tsk... fine.." He grumbled and your giggles and paid for the two bracelets. You slipped it on his wrist and wore yours too. "Ahh!! We're like twins!" "Don't be silly 🙄" "Hey! 😟😔" Then he ruffled your hair, messing it up. "C'mon, slow poke." He teased and you ran at him and clung to him.

"Oi (name) I gotta tell ya somethin." Sanemi called. "Yeah? What is it?" You smiled. You gave him the smile that made him smile. Not a crazy smile he gives demons before slaughtering them, the loving smile.

"I-... fucks sake.. um... I- UGH I LIKE YOU, DUMBASS!!!" He screamed. You wore a shocked face, totally not expecting that. "Well?! DON'T JUST GIVE ME THAT SHOCKED FACE AND ANSWER ME!" He yelled at you, again. You giggled at him. You were happy he wasn't gonna give you some corny thing and went straight to the point. It was Sanemi Shinazugawa after all.

"Oi oi oi oi, why are you laughing you punk-" "I like you too idiot!" You squealed. The tips of his ears were pink before, now his ears were red and so was his face, now he was the one who wore a shocked expression, totally not expecting that. You grabbed his hands and leaned close to his face, making him redder than Giyuu's red side of his haori. Sanemi went back into reality since he put his hand at the back of your head and pushed it, making his and your lips connect. It was like fireworks exploding in your stomach, it felt amazing. When you disconnected from him, your lips tingled. You blushed and kissed him on the cheek.

"Let's go back, yeah?" "Okie!!"

"Oi! Shinazugawa! W-wh.HAH.. where did you get your bracelet?" Tengen teased, trying to tease him through laughs. "YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH IT YOU FLASHY RETARD?!" Sanemi yelled and Tengen put his hands up in defence. Sanemi turned around and smiled at the memory. You were all his, and he was all yours. Maybe just maybe, if you two make it out alive, he would marry you and love you until the day you two die, and that's a promise in his heart.

432 notes · View notes

codenamesazanka · 6 months ago

Text

What is up with this obsession over the "other half" of Decay. Less so now that Shigaraki is like dead-dead, so I guess it was copium, but still. So Decay was derived from the Overhaul quirk. Okay. It was stripped of the restorative half; then added with the five finger activation and lack of control. By this point, it is its own quirk.

(It's the same with Kurogiri/Shirakumo. Shirakumo's quirk was cloud generation and manipulation; then it got turned into the ability to bend the fabric of space. It's its own quirk at that point.)

I don't see the need for any more connection than that? Decay came from Overhaul - it's an artificial quirk AFO created to be a super dick. That's where Decay came from. It's somewhat fortunate(?) that it wasn't naturally occurring, which means there wasn't some other poor bastard out there who probably also had a tough time with it, but just the fact that it's 'half' the Overhaul quirk makes me wonder if Overhaul didn't at least 'half' a tough time with it as well.

Which btw - the reveal also confirms that AFO and the Doc were also responsible for Overhaul's own early childhood... which no one seems to care about.

Hello??? Shigaraki has to be referred to as groomed and abused and brainwashed every other sentence in order to induce the greatest level of sympathy for him (because apparently otherwise if he ever had any hint of agency or genuine malice at all, fuck him and he's not as much a victim, I guess???), and the orphanage Touya wakes up in has cult vibes where he can't even leave, but Overhaul growing up in such an orphanage is not worthy of attention. Like you gotta wonder how Doc got his hand on Overhaul's quirk - best case scenario it was from a simple blood draw at a routine doctor's check up; worse case scenario is that he was experimenting on these kids, even if subtly.

It's in this orphanage that Overhaul reads about quirks and gets the idea that it's a sickness. Was that somehow from the instruction of the orphanage staff that's under Ujiko's employment? Was it because something happened to Overhaul that caused him to end up in an orphanage? Kid didn't just sprout from the ground - he must have had parents, a family. But here he is, in an orphanage, gloomily reading about quirks while all the other kids are playing outside. Kouta resentfully says quirks are freaky and Deku and the story bends over backwards to prove to him that he's wrong, and violent quirks will save his life, so he should love Heroes; it's obvious that Overhaul hating quirks is a flaw.

Later, it looks like Overhaul would run away from this orphanage too, and then gets picked up by the Yakuza. Luckily it was a very honorable yakuza who treated him with kindness, but listen to that sentence - """"luckily"""" he gets picked up by a nice mobster who raised him. And Overhaul is so affected by this kindness it gives him a devotion that turns twisted. I mean, I think the guy definitely has his own selfish issues, but he really does care about Pops a lot and still thinks of what he's doing as being for Pop's and the Yakuza's sake.

I know no one cares about Overhaul and probably thinks it's even funny he loses his arms and goes half insane in Tartarus, that that's just karma for abusing and medically torturing a little girl, but it's very clear that he didn't start out that way, and if things had been different, he might not have grown up to become a Villain. That's true for nearly all the Villains we see on the story. And that's why there's such a big push to save the League, because of that "if only, if only". They're sympathetic and maybe redeemable.

But unsympathetic and irredeemable villains like Muscular and Overhaul were the best training wheels for Deku to work up to saving Shigaraki. If he can reach out a hand to those freaks, he can do it for not-as-much-a-freak Shigaraki. Even if Deku fails in trying to save Muscular and Overhaul, if he had tried, he could've learned something from those encounters that he could later apply to Shigaraki. But Deku said nope and then crashes when he has to save Shigaraki. Sorry—not even Shigaraki, but the ghost of a Crying Child.

Muscular insists that there's nothing but blood and violence inside of him, so Deku gives up on him because he can't psychically dive into Muscular's head to prove him wrong; later, Shigaraki insists that he overcame the Crying Child and he wants destruction, and fortunately Deku doesn't give up on him, but only because he can psychically dive into Shigaraki's head to prove him wrong - except it's this exact act that brings back AFO and drives the train wreck into the conclusion that is Shigaraki's body crumbling to nothing.

Overhaul begs to see Pops and wants to apologize, demonstrating some tiny broken strand of caring and goodness inside of him, but that's not someone Deku knows or cares about so it means nothing to him except that he can test whether Overhaul is worthy of any measure of forgiveness (and so rewarded by a Pops visit) by apologizing to Eri; later, Shigaraki gets his hatred smashed but stays the leader to the League, and Deku seems flummoxed by this, while using his last words to the guy he wanted to save to yammer on about not forgiving him and ending the cycle of sadness by stopping Shiagarki.

(Plus like. Overhaul has hurt sooooo many people other than Eri. He used and manipulated many of the Shie Hassaikai too. But once again, none of them are people Deku knows or cares about so they don't matter and they don't need an apology.)

This got really off topic because it started out about people focused on the Overhaul-Decay then turned into a Deku rant (only semi-sorry), but. Actually maybe not. People only care about the Overhaul-Decay thing because the Overhaul quirk might bring Shigaraki back, because Shigaraki deserves it; meanwhile the actual holder of the Overhaul quirk is ignored, because Overhaul doesn't deserve any comeback, or anything at all. It's really just people only caring about certain Villains because they personally like them and feel sorry for them. Which is fine! Go have your blorbo.

But like, ironically, caring only about your villain blorbo's situation in the context of the wider story, when discussing the story using the context of abuse and marginalization and who is deserving of saving, is the same as what Deku and Hawks did - singling out one victim out of many as worthy of being saved, and condemning every other Villain. And how did that turn out for Deku and Hawks?

#of course my interpretation can be and is probably totally wrong #watch me next chapter when it turns out muscular and overhaul were not supposed to be training wheels at all #and none of this was the intent #point still stands tho #either you save everyone or you'll be saving no one #nalslastworkingbraincell #sorry for the 5 am rant #it's posted at 7 am but i wrote it at 5 am

60 notes · View notes

callmelittlebuttercup · 6 months ago

Text

Peace Offerings Pt. 15

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Chapter Summary: As they make their way back to Jackson, Reader tries to process the loss of her brother. Joel makes a confession to her that reminds her she's not alone, and she finally comes clean about what happens. The two continue to grow closer as they navigate their grief.

Chapter warnings: Processing of grief/loss, mentions of cannibalism and SA, descriptions of meat (idk if this is weird but I'd want a warning LOL), fluff.

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part Fifteen

I sat in the bed of a truck on the highway and stared at the ground as Joel searched the abandoned cars and trucks for anything we could find for the journey back to Jackson. I picked at the dead, bloodstained skin around my fingernails as my feet swung back and forth in front of me. The sun was warm on the back of my head but the air was still chilled from the past snow. I was pulled from my dissociative state by Joel calling out my name. I whirled around to see him walking towards me with a grimace on his face from the blinding sun. “Did you hear me?” He asked. “No. What?” I responded weakly. “Well I found this in there. Beefaroni, Chef Boyardee.” He said as he held up a worn out can. “Oh… Cool.” I said as enthusiastically as possible. He hesitated before pulling out another box and moving closer to me. “Alright. We’re making good time. We should try to cover as much as we can before it gets dark.” He said as he handed me the can to put in his bag that I’d been guarding. I nodded, “Got it.”

As we walked, Joel continued to fill the silence, “Think they had a guitar in that RV. Was all smashed up but- got me thinkin’... Maybe I should find one. I haven’t played in forever.” I looked at him. My surprise was muted, but still genuine. “You played guitar?” He nodded and turned his gaze up ahead. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to play.” I said quietly, almost purposefully so that wouldn’t hear me, but he did. “I could teach you… If you’d still want to when we get back.” He offered awkwardly. I felt the warmth of a blush reaching my cheeks, “I’d like that.”

Despite our innocent and light conversation, there was still a heaviness between us. Joel obviously knew something had happened in that restaurant but he was dancing around that fact. I couldn’t blame him because I was too. I wanted to tell him what happened, but I didn’t know how to start. There was no easy or comforting way to say “My brother was chopped into little pieces and fed to cannibals by an evil cult leader then that same man tried to violate me as the building burnt down around us.” Joel and I had no choice but to be vulnerable with each other at times, but this felt different. This was a whole other level that went above being drunk around him, or almost dying on him multiple times. This wasn’t something one of his peace offerings could fix. This was something he would just have to let run its course.

As the scenery changed from highway to a university campus, he began to speak again. He blurted out his ideas for making our way through, and I nodded along, barely retaining anything but I knew I would be okay as long as I stayed close behind.

We came upon tents that had medical symbols on them, and Joel said aloud, “Emergency medical camps. They obviously didn’t last. They had me in one just like this.” I looked around before returning my gaze to him, “With Sarah?” He shook his head, “No she was gone already.” I nodded before questioning again, “What were you in here for?” I turned around, realizing he’d stopped in his tracks a few paces ago. His head was turned towards the ground and he mumbled, “‘Member when I said I’d almost lost my life when my daughter died?” My heart dropped as I predicted what he was about to say. He sat down on a concrete block feet away from him, and I moved to perch myself next to him. I stared at him intently, showing him I was listening. “There’s no story,” He said dismissively before continuing, “Sarah died and I couldn’t see the point anymore. Simple as that. And I wasn’t scare either… I was ready. But when I-” he pause and made an unreadable gesture with his hands, “When I went to pull the trigger, I flinched. Still don’t know why.”

I was speechless. I felt like I’d known what his story was all this time, but hearing him tell it outright was all the more painful. I sat there and my hand instinctively moved to rest on his knee. His hand slid on top of mine and squeezed gently. My eyes began to swim with tears as I leaned my head into him. “Well I’m glad… that didn’t work out.” I whimpered, my voice thick with tears. I couldn’t see his face, but I could hear the same thickness in his voice as he responded, “Me too.” Before we could get too emotional, I wiped the stray tear off of my cheek and sat up. “We should probably get going.” I choked. He nodded as we both stood and continued our trekk through the campus.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After walking absentmindedly for what seemed like hours, Joel called out from ahead of me, “We should see if this house is clear and rest for the night.” I nodded and followed after him towards the front steps. He went in before me and cleared both floors before waving me in.

David had taken my bag from me, so I watched as Joel dropped his on the ground and began to rummage through it. “Hungry?” He asked as he pulled out a package of jerky and flung it my way. Again, I should have been hungry, but the thought of eating made me sick to my stomach. I shook my head and slid down the wall before leaning my head back against it with a thump. His stare lingered as I did so, and I could feel the weight of the questions he was begging to ask.

I still didn’t have the energy to formulate an explanation, but after his confession to me earlier, I felt like I owed to him. His concern for me was also obvious in his furrowed eyebrows and clenched jaw. I cleared my throat and rubbed the fabric of my jeans between my fingers before speaking, “He didn’t… do what it looked like he did. If that’s what you’re worried about.” I uttered uncomfortably. Joel’s jaw clenched even harder and he nodded, “Good.”

He bit off a piece of jerky before pushing the package towards me. I picked it up and stared at the dark brown, scaly strips of meat. My hand started to tremble and I became ill at the sight of it. I tossed it back at him and folded my knees against my chest as my hot tears formed in my eyes. He stared at me with the same look of concern on his face, only more intense. I sighed and prepared myself to explain. “That group… they were-“ He cut me off, “Cannibals. I know.” I looked at him briefly and nodded before speaking again, “and the leader, David said that they…” I swallowed down the bile in my throat before continuing, “He insinuated that they ate him. Ate Matthew.” I stuttered. His face dropped and his chewing halted. The piece of jerky in his hand fell to the floor with a soft thud. “My god..” he stuttered as he dropped his head into his hands.

A few moments passed as we quietly rested in the moonlit cabin. Night had fallen, but I figured it was pointless to try to sleep. David’s chilling words played over and over in my head. “Let’s just say… his life will help many others to prosper.” Each time his voice would echo through, another wave of queaziness would hit. As much as I would have liked to process my brother’s death, I desperately needed another distraction.

“How did you know they were cannibals?” I asked as soon as the question popped into my brain. “I… questioned* a few people when I was tryin’ to find you.” He answered. The way he paused before saying “questioned” let me know that the actual situation was not as formal. “You questioned people?” I repeated. He nodded, keeping his lips in a tight line. “Well… more like interrogated.” He finally admitted. “Did these people survive the interrogation?” I asked, partially from curiosity and the concern of someone seeking revenge on Joel for killing more members or David’s cult. “Don’t know,” he said, “Soon as they pointed to where you were on the map I took it and ran.” Despite its heaviness, my heart fluttered at Joel’s words. I was still adjusting to having another person looking out for me, especially with the fact that it was Joel, the man I never expected to become this close to.

“You should try to get some sleep.” He said, quickly changing the subject. I shook my head, feeling the heat of tears forming behind my eyes. The thought of laying down and becoming vulnerable again terrified me. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Joel to keep watch, it was the fact that every time I blinked I saw the sick look on that vile man’s face as he unbuttoneed his pants. I knew, if I could even get a wink of sleep, that he would come back to haunt me in my nightmares.

“It’s okay, I promise I’ll keep watch. I have coffee.” He said again, trying to convince me. “No… You don’t understand.” I whimpered. His silence and empathetic stare had pulled me to a huge realization. It was then that I remembered our conversation earlier. Joel had suffered a loss just as great, if not greater. Joel had lost his daughter. “How did you do it?” I asked, my voice becoming hoarse from tears. “Do what?” He questioned weakly. “How did you get through it?” My vision of him was shrouded by darkness, but I heard his breath catch in his throat. I chewed at the inside of my cheek as I desperately awaited his advice. As if all of the emotions I was feeling were gushing out of me from an open wound, and his words would be the sutures that would aid my survival. “I know it was dark at first… you told me. But you got through it. Please tell me how.” I begged. “ I learned that you keep going for those who are still here, for those who still need you. For me, back then, it was family. You and I may not be family, but we’re here for each other. That’s got to count for something.”

I sucked in a deep breath as his words blanketed me. Joel alone would most definitely not fill the void of my beloved brother entirely, but he was here vowing to help me through the loss of him. He cared about me, and regarded my life as he did his own family’s, and I’d begun to function the same way. I had him and he had me.

“Thank you, Joel.” I said quietly. Instead of a verbal response, I heard shuffling along the floorboards, and then felt his back hit the wall next to mine. I placed a hand out onto the floor to feel where he was, and made contact with his pant leg. His calloused hand wrapped around mine and pull it to rest on his knee as he squeezed it gently. My weary head dropped down to rest on his firm, yet comforting shoulder. “I’ve got you.” He whispered before leaning his head down and gently touching it to mine. “I’ve got you too.” I whispered back. The exhaustion of the day weighed my eyelids down. Joel’s words and the comfort of his touch made me feel safe enough to close them.

That night, I was safe from David, from infected, and any other threats. My dreams were filled with my best memories of Matthew. The strawberry plants again, painting over our crayon drawings on the walls of our rooms before we moved out of our childhood home, his high school graduation, prank calling our friends and so much more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: I have a confession to make: I definitely might have been sweating from my eyes while writing the last part.:’) We needed some fluff and healing after all of the angst as well as in preparation for what is ahead. As always, let me know what you think and thank you thank you thank you for reading and for all of the support !! See you next Monday. <3

“*”: This line is most definitely referring to the “WHAT TOWWWNNNN” scene in episode 9. If you don’t know what I’m talking about look it up bc it’s important (and hot.)

Masterlist | Next Part

Taglist (plus ppl I think would like it.) :

@demonsasss @ashleyfilm @ayamenimthiriel @scarlet-daisy @jellybeanxc @briyannaholt @hujickova @morgaussy @vivian-pascal

50 notes · View notes