#i suspect she only picked it up because she knows of my obsession

[ainadelothwen]

OMG my super cultured, refined and literary sister in law is about to read Six of Crows. I hope she likes it otherwise we can never speak again. JK.

[animeyanderelover]

Yay, your recs are open! Hope you're doing great and your health is good :)

This one is pretty dark, so ignore this if smth!

If you know about Tomie, could you do some jjk characters of your choice with a darling with similar powers? Like, she can't die fully, always returns no matter how cruel was her death, and for some reason all non-sorcerers are going crazy after being in contact with her for a some time – and, maybe, at some point even a yandere starts feeling a strange need to cause harm to her. Bonus points if she gives femme fatale vibes, but actually is much sweeter and kinder person than she may look.

Thanks, and have a great day!

I hope you don't mind that I made the darling in here the curse of obsession because this would fit the theme very nicely and would crank the Yandere scale to an incredibly creepy level. I know a bit about her since my best friend is a huge fan of Junji Ito works and she especially adores Tomie and Uzumaki.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, manipulation, isolation, abduction, death of s/o, murder, mentions of cannibalism, nudity, mentions of dub-con, sexual themes, starvation

The curse of eternal obsession

Okkotsu Yuta

💍​Walking through the streets of Tokyo, no human would suspect you to be the cursed being that you are. Instead there is an aura of allure and mystery around you, something that seems to draw them to you like a moth to a flame. Bound to be consumed by the fire. Yet Yuta seems to bring a quick end to your life when he senses your eerie cursed energy. There are no words spared as he attacks you, your calm and beautiful face chilling as he exorcises you as if you have lived through death already multiple times before. Your face is something that seems to be stuck in his mind as it is the thing he sees as soon as he closes his eyes. It agitates him, disturbs him but he tries to calm himself by reminding himself that he has already killed you. Until he meets you again in the middle of the fight as you sit on the ground, surrounded by the blood of two men who have stabbed each other to death. When your eyes meet his own, there is the same serene look on your face as Rika brutally assaults you and Yuta watches how she tears you apart, a lump in his throat.

💍​You should be dead. He watched how Rika murdered you. He even murdered you one time himself. Yet only a few days later you stand in front of him again, greeting him politely before you walk away, your hair swaying in the wind. Yuta can only watch you with a racing heart whilst you disappear in the crowd. A few days later he receives word that a group of friends were found all dead. The police suspects that all of them strangled and beat each other to death in violent ways that are rare to find and his mind immediately suspects you to be the culprit. Whenever you appear it only takes a few days before news about violent deaths and gruesome suicides appear on the news as your mere presence seems to drive non-sorcerers to madness yet he has seen with his own eyes that you seem to possess an immortality unlike anything he has ever seen. To protect the public from your cursed energy, he captures you the next time he finds you.

💍​Yet when he tracks you down he is witness to a violent crime that would have made the average person empty their stomach. Even Yuta can't help the creeping feeling of horror as he watches a woman dismembering you with a saw before she cuts her own neck with the saw until she dies of blood loss. There is a strange sense of fury flowing through his veins as he collects every part of you, his heart clenching when he picks up your head with dull and lifeless eyes yet to his great disturbance even dismembered and dead, you still possess an attractiveness that he shouldn't feel about a violated corpse. He locks all of the parts away from you instantly and stays away from the room you are in to clear his mind and get away from the cursed energy you still seem to produce even in your temporary death. He can't get a wink of sleep that night as his heart never stops pounding nor does he seem to get your face out of his mind. When he gathers the courage the next morning to peek inside the room, his heart tumbles when he sees that you have regenerated and sit there completely naked, the sight of your body sending sparks of arousal through his body before he hurries up to give you something to wear.

💍​He keeps you there, locked inside the basement and stays as far away from you as possible. He has never encountered a curse such as you that has affected him as greatly as you do and he has to fight constantly against the temptation to see you as he finds himself standing in front of the door separating you from him multiple times a day, his nails digging into his palms as he bites his lips until he can taste blood. Even when he is not seeing you, Yuta can still sense the cursed energy of yours that is wrapping itself around his body like a snake and as weeks pass by, he finds himself falling asleep to horrifying fantasies about you that have him waking up drenched in sweat and with a raging boner that only throws him down into a spiral of disgust, shame and insanity. Until one day after roughly three weeks your cursed energy disappears. He should feel relieved about it yet his heart drops with such intense anxiety that has him nearly ripping out the door leading to your room. As soon as he sees your thin and dead body laying on the ground, he feels something shattering as he suddenly bursts out in tears. He starved you to death.

💍​He carries your light and thin body to his own bed and lays you down before he waits. He sits there and waits for hours in agony until your cursed energy picks up strength again and your body regains its healthy and otherwordly beauty. As soon as your eyes flutter open, Yuta's face is the first thing you sees. His heart starts beating with excitement as he tells you that he will prepare something to eat for you before he rushes to the kitchen. It is only after he has prepared the food and serves it to you that he realises what he is doing and for a short moment he feels a spark of hot wrath that you have reduced him to this yet when you open your mouth and he hears your voice for the first time, his anger melts away. It is a soft and sweet sound that echoes in his mind long after you have told him your gratitude for the food. An infatuated smile appears on his face as he watches you eat the food before he asks you if you would like to take a bath. The following days you suddenly get a lot more freedom, although you are still kept within the house but that isn't solely because you are a threat to non-sorcerers anymore. It is also because Yuta feels a possessive yearning to see you whenever he wants.

💍​You are unlike any curse he has ever seen. Not only are you beautiful and gorgeous but you are also soft-spoken, kind and even somewhat shy. You help him with the household as you insist on showing your gratitude by preparing him meals and washing his clothes to the point where Yuta feels like you are his housewife and that image has his heart racing and his body reacting. You insist on sleeping on the couch when Yuta offers you to share a bed with him as you don't want to breach his private space and you reject it until he snaps at you with a frightening look on his face and a tight grip on your arms that could break bones. He instantly withdraws his hands when he regains his sanity and apologises hastily to you with tears in his eyes. He clings to your warm body at night, taking deep whiffs of your scent. Everything about you drives him crazy, the feeling of your skin against his electrical. There is a constant arousal keeping him half-hard at night as temptation grows stronger until he starts dry-humping against your thigh or ass, praying that you are asleep. Until you one night run your fingers soothingly through his hair whilst he is humping, causing him to let out a choked moan as he cums.

💍​Yuta spends weeks on cloud nine as he fully indulges in everything. He treats you like his precious wife as he buys you cute dresses and even gifts you a ring which he insists for you to wear. You never deny him anything as you allow his touchy behavior as he holds your hands, kisses you and eventually even has sex with you and this fuels Yuta's delusion that you feel the same as he does. It is almost sickening how sweet he acts with you. All until one day he crosses paths with an acquaintance who knew someone who came in contact with you and when Yuta finds out that they know about your existance, he suddenly feels a feeling of paranoia about your safety as he suddenly sees this non-sorcerer as a threat to you. He feels the urge to call out Rika but decides to pry for information for now. They open up to him, perhaps because they just want to tell someone who shows interest as no one has believed them so far and the story that they tell him shatters his pretty delusion. They tell him how their dead ex-lover left them for you, abducted you and apparently even had sex with you and how they called them moments before they jumped from a building to tell them in tears that they ended up killing you.

💍​Yuta lets Rika kill that person within the same day as a wrath has suddenly festered inside of him. At first he believes that they are lying because you only love him and you would never allow another person to touch you the same way he touches you. You love him. But when he sees their corpse, a realisation slowly settles in. You are a curse. A curse that has always driven people mad and Yuta is no exception. He's just killed an innocent non-sorcerer. And it's your fault. Disgust, pain and wrath cause him to spiral down violently as he all but storms back to his house to murder you and take revenge on you for deceiving and using him. When he arrives home, he finds you asleep on the couch and for a moment his eyes just take in your beauty as you lay there so innocently before his gaze zooms in on your neck. In the next moment he is choking you, his body on top of yours. Your eyes fly open as you start whining and choking whilst he is watching you with a dark glint in his eyes, taking in with joy your suffering form. Then your eyes meet his own though. No shock, ne fear, no guilt. Instead all he sees inside those orbs is acceptance and pity. You are pitying him.

💍​It is this look in your eyes that throws him off as he lets go and stumbles away from you, staring at you with shock and agitation. Why are you giving him this look?! You don't say anything as you instead just give him a sweet smile that tears his heart open. What kind of monster are you to deceive him even now? You know how much he adores that smile of yours. He's on the verge of crying as he pulls out his katana to dismember you but then he suddenly freezes. His wrath dies down as he stares at the katana in his hands and his eyes widen as he drops it and sinks down on his knees as he suddenly becomes aware of his own horrifying thoughts he just had. He just looks at you for a few minutes before he suddenly bursts out in tears when he seems to realise something. That you never had any choice but allow people to do what they want to do with you. Your own curse brings you as much misery as everyone around you and your immortality forces you to endure it over and over again. You are a victim. He crawls back on top of you and apologises to you whilst his hot tears fall on your face, promises you in between sweet kisses on your neck that he will never harm you again.

Gojo Satoru

🩵​There you are, walking through the streets together with a man following you with infatuated eagerness as he constantly points at stores and offers to blow all of his money on you yet you only shake your head politely. Your cursed energy isn't oppressing nor is it filling the entire area but Satoru can sense how potent it is as he happens to be in the same area as you. He's currently there to buy something for his students when he senses you and blue eyes instantly race over the crowd to detect the source of it. An exceptionally beautiful man himself, even he can't deny your sheer beauty as he finally finds you. He watches as you point to a store selling candy and the man who is accompanying you eagerly nods his head before he rushes to buy you something. You seem to observe him for a while before you turn your head in an inhuman way and your own glowing eyes meet Satoru's as you have recognised his presence as well and want to let him know about it. Your cursed energy spikes and Satoru wonders if he will have to use his Domain Expansion if you decide to attack but you don't seem to plan on doing so as you crack your head back and wait with folded hands for the man to return.

🩵​Something about you is off though, majorly off, so Gojo decides to follow you. You have clearly seduced the man who seems to be on all four for you and Satoru doesn't blame him. You are beautiful and gorgeous as even your cursed energy is tempting but that won't stop Gojo from exorcising you. He is even bold enough to approach you when your victim leaves you alone for a moment to murmur in your ear that you appear quite calm despite the fact that you know that he is following you. You only glance at him briefly and Satoru almost drowns in those enchanting eyes of yours before a loud yelling interrupts him. So lost was he in your gaze that he didn't even notice the man returning. If looks could kill, Gojo would have died thrice now as he can quite literally see the man shaking with rage and for a few seconds Gojo is convinced that he will come for his throat before the man just grabs your hand violently and drags you away. Blue eyes narrow as Satoru waits for a while before he decides to trail after you again. He suddenly has a bad feeling about this and eventually he finds out the apartment where the man apparently lives. He's already standing in front of the door when the commotion suddenly starts.

🩵​Loud screams and wails belonging to the man are heard, crying out your name before they are followed by screams of pain and the shattering of a window. That's when Gojo breaks the door open and the scene he sees inside is not pretty. Shards of a broken vase are stuck in your neck and even your now deformed face and the shattered window is painted with red blood from the now dead man who must have hit his head against it until it broke and he died. Yet Gojo can still sense the cursed energy from you, can almost feel it crawling towards his own body. He watches your bloody form alarmed, something warning him that something truly isn't right with even though he can't figure out what it is. When he notices your fingers twitching and your body twisting, he acts quicker than he can even react as he kills you and senses your cursed energy vanishing completely. A few days later he decides to visit the graveyard of the man as he has for some reason not been able to forget about you. When he senses a familiar cursed energy though, he feels his muscles tensing as this shouldn't be possible. Yet there you are, kneeling in front of the graveyard.

🩵​He is instantly behind you, throwing a shadow over you as his hands linger over your head as if considering to rip it off yet he doesn't as his eyes narrow in confusion and wariness. You are supposed to be dead. Why are you still alive? You lean your head back to look at him and only greet him politely before you arrange the flowers you have brought with you on the man's grave before standing up again and leaving. The white-haired man stops you though as he grabs your arm so tightly that your bone might break as he asks you how you are still alive. You cascade your gaze very shortly down to the ground, seemingly reminiscing about something, before you meet his intense gaze. He could swear that you almost look a bit sad as you merely tell him that you are eternal. You hold his gaze for too long until he feels threatened to get lost in those eyes again which causes him to let go of you. Blue eyes are glued to your form as you walk gracefully away, his eyes roaming over the shape of your body until he can't sense you anymore. Only then does he feel the urge to follow you die down a bit.

🩵​He is almost ashamed of his own lack of self-control when he senses your energy a few weeks later again and the urge to see you again just takes over him. Truth is, he has been thinking about you a lot ever since. Your mysterious words have stuck with him as he has been trying to figure out what you meant and your hypnotising gaze has been following him in his sleep. He is shocked to find you though. Half-naked and with deep cuts littering your skin as you are held down by the neck as the man above you traces a long knife down the curves of your body. Briefly he is reminded of your deformed face and bloody body when he met you for the first time and suddenly rage starts to cloud his vision. A hot wave of jealousy falls over him for the way the man touches you so closely and ire takes hold of him for it looks like he is about ro rape you. Gojo knocks him instantly out, perhaps a bit too strong as blood starts seeping from his head. He quickly offers you the jacket he is wearing to cover your bare upper body with before he grabs your wrist and tells you that you'll come with him. You beg him to call an ambulance for the man before you come with him and Satoru is surprised to hear those words.

🩵​He almost doesn't want the man to receive help but then he snaps out of it and gives you his phone to call the ambulance. It is strange that a curse wants to help a human, especially since that human looked like he was about to sexually force himself on you and kill you at the same time. You are indeed very strange and he finds himself looking at you the entire time out of curiosity and since your beauty is very outstanding. He should kill you but he has already tried this and somehow you just appeared again so he has a feeling that it wouldn't work even if he would try again. He doesn't want to kill you for some reason though. Instead he brings you to his home and tells you that he wants to keep you in here until he has figured out what you are and what to do to you. You give him a silent nod before you ask him if there is anything you can do whilst he keeps you here and this is not what Gojo expected to hear. You really are a peculiar curse. He monitors you very closely the following days as you walk around the house to memorise the interior and every room and whe he realises that you seem to have a love for books, he ends up buying you entire shelves worth of them. The giddy grin you give him has his heart pounding.

🩵​You are well-read and seem to have existed for quite a long time already as far as Satoru can tell from the knowledge you share with him. As much joy as it gives him to see you happy, he starts feeling jealous that you spend so much time reading books. He wants attention, more attention than you already give him. It just isn't enough. It escalates very quickly when you one day ask him to wait until you have finished this book. Only a few pages are left yet somehow those words make Satoru snap as he snatches the book out of your hands and rips it apart. Blue eyes ablaze with agitation yet also a familiar look to you as he bends down so that he is on eye height with you. Hands grab your own harshly, squeezing them as he tells you in a low voice that he despises if you ignore him. You look into his gorgeous eyes, seemingly unfaced from the way he glowers at you before you carefully free one of your hands and reach tentavively out to touch his face. His Infinity is already deactivated, allowing you to touch his face. He lets out a satisfied hum as one of his hands grabs your one touching his cheeks, blue eyes gleaming as he looks at you.

🩵​His Infinity around you is mostly deactivated as he encourages you to touch him as much as he is already touching you. Your touches are warm and addictive and he seemingly can't get enough of them. Often you find yourself trapped beneath him, his arms wrapped around your waist and his head on your chest. You sometimes asks him what he plans to do with you as he is a sorcerer and you are a curse yet he always shuts you up, mostly by kissing you to silence all of your sounds. He does know that technically he should find a way to exorcise you or to at least seal you away yet his whole body is filled with rage when he considers it. He has to keep you a secret from other sorcerers under all means necessary. Not only because of their demands but also because he fears that they would desire you too for your beauty and gentle nature. He notices that you never seem to protest or stop him whenever he becomes very touchy and as sick as that is, Satoru finds himself abusing this. Within a short time he is able to fully indulge in his desires as your nude body is pressed against his own, teasing you here and there as he claims you for himself. He has never seen someone more beautiful than you.

🩵​Satoru is almost drunk on you and every word and gesture you do as he is convinced that he would kill anyone who would try to take you away from him. Yet the willingness of yours to let him do whatever he wants with you soon turns into a festering jealousy as he starts wondering if you allowed all the people before him to do everything to you as well. He shouldn't care considering that your curse seems to make people naturally obsessed with you and that he isn't the first and most likely not the last one yet he has already fallen under your spell. His heart threatens to burst as he realises that he will fade whilst you will continue. He won't let anyone else have you after him! You are assaulted by him whilst you are changing clothes, a desperate look in those blue eyes as he begs you to tell him how he can murder you as he tells you about his wish to kill you when his time comes so that no one else will be able to have you after him. When you confess to him that you don't know how you can die, you see the anger and madness flaring up in his eyes as if he is about to attempt to murder you again then and there before he manages to regain his self-control and tells you in a sweet tone that he'll find a way.

[wasawattpadkid]

Housewife

Part - 2

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: poly!ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating,

Part 1

If you heard the names Casey or Steve one more time you might go insane. Stu ran up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist. "Boo!" The binder you held in your arms unceremoniously hit the floor. "Let go of me weirdo." You struggled but he didn't let go. "Did ya hear about Casey and Steve?" You could scream. The heel of your Mary Jane shoes made contact with his toes making him lose his grip. With a huff you picked up your belongings. "Why is everyone so obsessed with them?" Stu cocked an eyebrow at you. "Uh because they were slit open like pigs in a butcher shop?"

"I get that trust me thats all anyone can talk about. But you can't act all sad like you've lost a loved one and then talk in great detail about what organ fell out where. It's inhumane." He leaned back on the lockers listening to you rant. "Yesterday was a complete shit show. That Steve guy was a prick to me and he didn't even know my name yet. So he can't be the saint everyone's making him out to be. Murders happen everywhere all the time these two aren't going to change anything."

"Interesting take from Marry Poppins. What's got your panties in a bunch today?" You opened your locker putting away your things for lunch. "Some asshole started talking to me in 2nd period about how in a movie I'd be a prime suspect because the murders started when I got here." Randy. Stu knew the moment you brought up movies. "Well you did say Steve was an asshat, that's motive Y/n." He was right but let's be real here. You couldn't take on an athlete if you were paid. You rubbed your face in frustration. "Relax I know it's not you. You'd cry if you got blood on that cute little dress of yours." It really wouldn't matter you knew how to take practically any stain out of a piece of clothing.

"You'd be surprised." Just as the words left your lips a kid bumped into you knocking you into Stu. His hands conveniently found your hips. "Watch where you're walking asshole!" Stu shouted with a laugh. You pulled yourself away from him trying to straighten your dress with your hands. "Hey I'm meeting Tatum and everybody by the water fountain, you in?" The idea of being around more people wasn't ideal. Stu could see on your face you didn't want to. "Oh come on Billy's going to be there." He wasn't dumb. Billy was an attractive guy, he was well aware of that. All the girls had a thing for Billy, you were no exception.

"If I go you can't just completely ignore me because I only know you two." Stu shut your locker for you as you continued to walk. "Ignore you? I could never. You could sit on my lap if you wanted to." You fake gagged making him laugh. "I don't think your girlfriend would like that." He just shrugged his shoulders. "Eh I do what I want." This doesn't surprise you. "You are a peace of work." The doors opened letting the light bombard your skin. "Picasso baby!" Stu shouted as he grabbed your hand pulling you towards the fountain.

"Fresh meat everybody!" He declared as you stood uncomfortably in front of everyone. Billy looked more than unamused at your appearance. "Y/n right? You're in my math class?" You nodded at the girl with brown hair. She stuck out her hand for you to shake. "I'm Sydney Prescott." Billy shook his head with a smile. "Nice to meet you Sydney." She smiled up at you and returned the sentiment. "She's the killer I'll bet anybody 10 bucks." If looks could kill he'd be six feet under. "Randy knock it off. You think this adorable face could murder?" Stu pinched your cheeks with a grin on his lips. "Not a chance." He let go and found a seat next to Tatum. "Plus there's no way a girl could've killed them."

"Scoot over let her sit down." Billy huffed but did what Sydney told him. "That is so sexist. The killer could easily be a female, Basic Instinct." You nodded in Tatum's defense. "That was an ice pick. Not exactly the same thing." Stu looked over at all of us before looking at Tatum. "Yeah Casey and Steve were completely hollowed out. The fact is it takes like, a man to do something like that." Sydney looked down at the ground uncomfortable with the conversation.

"I don't know feminine rage is pretty scary. Do you know how many cheating husbands get stabbed to death or fed to the dogs by the wife. The fact is women know how to get a job done quickly and quietly. Men get cocky and want to play around that's how they get caught." Randy snapped his finger point at you. "See what I mean!" Stu laughed and Billy just looked at you with intrigue.

"How do you gut someone?" The honest tone of Sydney's voice made everyone quite down. "You take a knife and you slit them from groin to sternum." Billy sat up seemingly done with the gorey details. "Hey, it's called tact fuckrag." Billy looked at Stu his eyes once again saying more than his words did.

"Change of subject, I like your dress it's very Hepburn." Tatum spoke up. You cleared your throat trying to shake off that uneasy feeling. "Thanks I made it myself." She sat up in shock. "No way! You should totally make me one." If only it were that simple. "You think I'd look good in something like that babe?" She asked Stu and if you knew anything about him he'd give a smartass answer. "I think it'd look better on my bedroom floor but hey." She smacked his arm as everyone shared a laugh.

Stu continued rambling on about the murders with Randy. You were sick of hearing about it and it appeared so was Sydney. Her hand rested on Billy's knee as he whispered something to him. He nodded as she left a kiss on his cheek. The moment she left his demeanor darkened even more. He looked truly angry at this point. You assumed it was because Stu had upset her. Billy leaned next to you just enough to hit Stu's arm. "Ow man what gives? I was joking!" Billy was the next to get up followed by Randy.

"Hey Y/n? Are you doing anything Saturday? Me and Syd were going to hang out this weekend you could totally join." You knew Stu and Billy had plans to hang out with you and by the look on Stu's face he'd be upset if you said yes to Tatum. "Can't. My dad's going to be gone this weekend so I have to house sit." The smile on Stu's face was far from innocent. "You think with a killer on the loose you should be home alone?" She had a point but you doubted there was a serial killer running around. "I know how to lock my doors I'll be fine. Promise."

The school day went by fast thankfully. But once again everyone crowded around your car. "I'm not giving you a ride today." You shook your head. "I was thinking we could all go riding around maybe go to the mall? Someone's got to give you a tour." Stu said gesturing to the friend group you know found yourself a part of. "You don't have to of course." Sydney chimed in. She was probably the nicest one out of the group. "Who's got money for gas?" In an instant Stu handed you a crumpled up 100 dollar bill. "That should cover it and don't ask where its been." He noticed the shock on your face. "Don't worry there's more where that came from." He winked at you and Tatum rolled her eyes. You shoved the bill in your purse snapping it shut.

"Ive got work today so I'll catch you all later." Randy said as he walked away. You felt a little bad you were relieved at his absence. "Okay I've got bench seats so three people can sit up front and three in the back. "I call back seat with Stu." Tatum pulled at his shirt dragged him to the back. "No doing anything weird back there this is my dad's car." Tatum just laughed and Stu stuck his tounge out shaking it at you in protest. "Oh shit I forgot I've got to study for that exam tomorrow. I have to get home." Stu started to boo and Tatum echoed her boyfriend. "We'll only be gone a couple hours Syd."

"I have to pass this test Billy. You go ahead and go. You guys have fun!" She grabbed her bag and headed off towards the busses. Billy sat in the passenger seat again same aggravated look on his face. "Would it kill you to smile?" You asked lightheartedly. He turned to you flashing the fakest smile you'd ever seen. "See was that so hard?" Sarcasm dripping off your words. "Incredibly."

The mall wasn't hard to find after Tatum gave you some directions. You weren't sure how this little outing would go. On one hand it was nice having friends and spending time with people but on the other you and Billy were third wheeling. You had only been through half the stores and Stu already managed to spend an egregious amount. "Ooh help me pick out a set." Tatum said pulling Stu into the Victoria's Secret. Billy followed them in so you had no choice but to follow suit. "Do you have a boyfriend?" Billy asked as he touched the lace fabric on a teddy. "Odd question to ask considering you have a girlfriend."

"Fuck me for trying to make conversation." You laughed and decided to play along. "I do. We're trying the whole long distance thing." Billy found it hard to make eye contact with you. Choosing to play with and pick up anything around him to keep his hands busy. "He's probably cheating you know? Teenage boys do that." You're beginning to think both him and Stu have absolutely no filter. "Probably but it's not the like the guys around here are any better. I mean look at you and Stu." You're eyes flickered over to Stu holding up a bra to his chest declaring he was a girl. With a shake of the head you turn back to Billy. His eyes met with yours and for the first time he didn't advert his gaze. "Do you wear anything like this?" He gestured towards the thongs and see through bras.

"Nah I'm more into ropes and whips." You joke thinking if anyone would find it funny he would. His eye grew just a tiny bit wider surprised at your response. His lips quirked upwards a small smirk playing at his mouth. "I'm kidding!" Your face grew hot as he looked back down at what you were wearing. "No you're not. You're a freak. It's always the nice girls." Scoffing at that you wiped your hands down your dress trying to pull it further down your legs.

He smiled knowing he was making you uncomfortable. "You're a real creep you know that?" He held up in hands in fake surrender. "You caught me." Tatum shouted your name from across the store. "That's my que." You had no idea where she was or what she was doing. "She's in the dressing room I offered to help but ya know." He raised his eyebrows suggestively as if you didn't already know what he meant.

"Tatum it's me." You knocked on the door and it opened immediately. Her arm stuck out grabbing you and pulling you in. "You've got to stop doing that." You said in a hushed voice. "Opinions?" She said as she spun around practically naked. The red lace nightie left little to the imagination. "Um I think it looks cute. It doesn't cover much does it?" You ask and she laughed. "That's the point silly. You don't think it makes me look fat?" She was so skinny you worried about were her organs were let alone be over weight. "You look fine hun. I'm gonna go check on the guys." She said alright and let you slip out of the dressing room.

"We got you something." Stu shook the bag in front of your face startling you. "He got it." Billy spoke up as you took the bag from Stu. "No you grabbed it and said it would-" A swift punch to the ribs shut the blonde boy up. "Don't open it till later." Billy said and for some reason you agreed. "Is she about done in there?" The door opened and Tatum eagerly ran to the checkout desk. Stu like a puppy followed right behind her leaving you and Billy alone again.

"What did you get me?" Once again his eyes were on the floor. "Wouldn't you like to know?" He quipped his eyes finally reaching your face. "I would. That's why I asked." You both smiled at the small reenactment. "You didn't have to get me anything especially from here." He grabbed the bag from you tying the ribbon strings together. "Don't get too excited it's not a ball gag or anything." You smacked his arm snatching the bag back. "Plus I didn't pay for it. Rich boy over there did." He pointed at Stu.

"I'm hitting up Spencer gifts who's coming with me?" Going into that store with Stu was probably the dumbest thing you could do. "I'm in." You said mentally regretting it. "I'll go where you go." Tatum said as she hugged his arm. The last one to go was Billy. "Let's just get this over with." Stu practically ran to the opposite end of the mall with Tatum tossed over his shoulder. "There's no way your feet aren't killing you." Billy said looking down at your heels.

"I grew up in high heels mister. I could run in these bad boys if I had to." You weren't kidding. Growing up in a household where you had church every Sunday and you only had one pair of sneakers, you could run in heels. "I doubt that." He was getting more comfortable around you. Billy didn't even realize it. He used to be fun. He used to screw around and let loose like Stu does. Since his mom left and the world seemed to collapse around him he just had one to many stabs in the back.

"Wanna race?" He looked at you with a childlike curiosity. He would win he knew that much. Considering his murderous tendencies he could beat you in ten seconds flat. "I run to the store and if you catch me before I get there you win. What do you say?" Before he could answer you took off running. It was supposed to be fun for the both of you. A little game of cat and mouse. What you didn't realize was how seriously he would take it. The simple sound of his boots gaining up on you was terrifying. Your laughter stopped as you sped up.

You ran around people, who were then pushed out of the way by Billy. This was no longer a game. He was trying to catch you. The click of your heels got faster and faster till you ran into someone. "Woah there what's going on?" You looked up and saw Stu waiting at the door of Spencer's. You won. Billy was just two steps behind you the entire time. "Damnit!" He exclaimed appearing genuinely pissed that he didn't grab you. Tatum chimed in asking him what the hell was going on. After all to them it seemed like something horribly wrong had happened. "We were just playing. I told him we'd race each other." You looked back at Billy trying to catch his breath.

"Billy Loomis playing a game? Now that's unheard of." Stu gasped as he walked in the store. You approached Billy deciding to check on him. Your hand touched his shoulders as they heaved up and down. "Are you okay?" His hand wrapped around your wrist tighten enough to bare pain. "I'm fine." He flung your hand away, leaving you behind as he walked in the store. So much for that. It was hot and cold with him. You couldn't figure it out and you weren't sure if you wanted to.

Stu and Tatum were over in the novelty section making dirty jokes and just getting on each other's nerves. You didn't know where Billy went. You walked to the back of the store ignoring the adult toy section. You looked down at your stockings noticing the big rip on your right leg. "Shit!" You cursed picking at the hole. Going through the short selection of stockings they had to offer you finally settled on a pair. They were thigh highs which is something you usually didn't wear. Victoria's secret bag and stockings in hand you walked up to the cashier and paid.

Afterwards you met up with Stu and Tatum who were as equally ready to leave as you were. "Where's Billy?" She asked. "I have no idea." Stu leaned over trying to peak into the Spencer bag. "You get something from the back?" You did but you weren't going to be honest about it. "I did. I got it for Tatum though. She deserves at least six inches." She started to laugh as Stu acted all dramatic. "Ha ha really funny. Go ahead laugh it up. I'll have you know she's perfectly content with what she's got." Tatum shook her head making you laugh even harder. "You guys ready to go?"

"Where'd you go?" You asked Billy as he shoved his hands in his pockets. "Bathroom." You're not sure what you did to piss him off. Is he butthurt that you beat him in a race? That can't be it he's not 5. He shouldn't be upset by such a small thing. "Let's go bitches!" Stu and Tatum walked hand in hand once again leaving you and Billy to talk. "Did I do something wrong?" You ask gingerly not to upset him further. "No." Another one word answer.

"We can race again. I'll let you catch me this time. I'll play dead and everything if you'd like." You laughed trying everything in your power to make him tolerate you again. "You would?" You weren't being serious but if that's what it took so be it. "If you'll stop being mad at me I will." That somehow put a smile on his face. "Should I start running?" You joke and he actually chuckles. "No no. We'll save that for later."

Everyone makes their way to your car getting in the same seats as before. "I know where Stu lives where do you two live?" You sit your bags in the floor next to Billy's black combat boots. "I'm going to her house before I go home so you can take me there. She's going to take me home before they pick up Sydney." She proceeds to giggle at the admission. "Just drop me off at Stu's" Billy says as he slicks his hair back. "Do you live at Stu's place?" You start the car leaving the mall in your rearview mirror. "Stu's parents are never home so they practically live together."

Billy looked out the window not making eye contact with anyone in the car. "Means I throw the best damn parties our school has ever seen." Stu and Tatum rejoiced in the back. That fact left more questions than answers. It made sense why Stu seemed to be so flippant with money. It even explained his overall behavior. Billy's case however was different. How bad was it at his house that he needed to live with Stu? In all honesty you felt bad for both the boys.

"Hey Billy open the glove compartment and play something." He did as told until he saw the contents of the glove box. "What the hell?" He said as he pulled out an 8 track. "Listen my dad had an 8 track player put in back in the 70s so that's all I got." With a smile on his face he dug through all the boxes.

Pushing the tape into the car AC/DC blasted through the speakers. "How'd I know you'd pick that one?" He carefully put all the tapes back where he got them. "I have good taste what can I say?" He shrugged. First stop was Tatum's house. She gave you the directions which you quickly found out she lives on the same street as you. "Your lights on upstairs is your dad home? I saw your car in the driveway this morning." Tatum asked pointing at your house. Fuck. "So this is where the mysterious Betty Crocker lives." Stu laughed putting on his best Vincent Price voice. Billy was just satisfied in knowing where you live. "Yeah my dad is. He's probably sleeping though he's got to get up early in the morning which means I've have to get home so scoot." You waved the couple out of your car quickly.

You pulled away getting just a couple houses down the road before your car began to stall. "What's wrong?" Billy asked as you look around. "I don't know it hasn't done this before." You turned the car off and on again but nothing happened. "Does it have gas?" You didn't get gas. The crumpled 100 was still shoved in your purse. "Son of a bitch." You cursed as you hit the steering wheel. "Hop out I've got to go get the gas can out of my garage."

"Do I get a house tour?" You stayed quiet genuinely upset at your ignorance. "Listen when we go inside I want you to be quiet. Okay?" Billy nodded as you unlocked your front door. "Holy shi-" You immediately covered his mouth. "I told you to be quiet." Slowly you pulled your hand away and he stepped into the house. "What year do you think it is?" You shut the door as quietly as possible knowing your dad could get up at anytime. "Oh shut up." Billy looked around at the old pictures, the old decor, really the old everything. Billy didn't come from rich parents like Stu. Your house was definitely bigger and better but it didn't have the rich person feel. Billy's house wasn't the problem for him, it was the people in it. It used to be a happy home but all that was waiting for him now was alcohol and fights.

While you sat your bags down he looked around the place. It looked like no one had bought anything new for the place since the 70s. The TV in the living room was 90% wood and the kitchen was a tacky yellow. All the appliances on the counters had to be at least 20 years old. Hell the phone on the wall was a rotary dial phone. Billy felt like he was walking into the Myers house.

"Let's go!" You whisper yelled at him the heavy gas can pulling on your arm. "Give it to me." Billy grabbed the can with ease helping you out the front door. He went ahead and filled the car up for you so you could run the empty can back inside. "Thank you." You said with a huff throwing yourself in the driver seat. "It's nothing." He replied already ready to go. Before you did anything you peeled the heels off your feet tossing them in the back seat. The next to come off were your ripped stockings. Billy watched as your upper thigh was exposed. He could see the hem of your pink underwear before you caught him.

"Perv." You smiled knowing he had to be a little flustered. He just shook his head looking at the ceiling. You threw the stockings in the back seat with your shoes. Billy cleared his throat trying to start up a conversation."Your house is nice." You breathed out a laugh as you started the car. "You don't have to lie."

Billy's demeanor changed once again. Now that it was just you and him he had one leg bent on the seat so his body could face towards you. Even though your eyes were on the road you could feel his burning holes in you. "I mean it. It's different. Better than all those rich bitches we go to school with." He wasn't lying. It was hard to find anyone who had an actual personality these days.

"I know it's not everyone's cup of tea. My dad doesn't really care what I do with the house as long as there is food on the table when he gets home." Billy bit his lip in thought. "So you did all of that?" He found it impressive to say the least. "Not really. I haven't messed with much since my grandparents passed. The way the kept things always seemed nice as a kid. And I don't see the sense in wasting money on new stuff when I've got perfectly good old stuff that works." He saw the way your eyes grew wide when Stu handed you that hundred. You're not a money person. You were modest. Going through the mall you only bought one thing for yourself while Tatum begged for everything she saw.

"How often is your dad gone?" He asked. A dangerous question to answer if Billy's asking it. "He can be gone for weeks at a time. He's a truck driver. He goes where his boss tells him to go." The car goes quiet for a little while. Luckily for you it's comfortable. "What about you? How's your mom and dad?" You meant nothing hateful by it and he knew that. "I live with my dad too. My parents split up." You could feel him putting those walls back up. It was night and day with Billy. Slowly you car came to a stop in Stu's driveway. "My mom isn't in the picture either. You know if that shit ever starts to bother you, you can call me. As long as your girlfriends okay with it that is." You grabbed a pen out of the glove compartment gently pulling Billy's hand towards your lap.

His hand sat on top of your right thigh as you touched the tip of the pen to your tongue. Carefully your wrote down your phone number where the numbers were visible. Billy for the first time in awhile, he was the one who was scared. Scared of moving even the tiniest bit. A simple harsh breath would ruin whatever this was. Softly you brought his hand up to your face blowing cool air on the drying ink. "There ya go." You tossed his hand back, your gentle nature now gone. "But um yeah if you ever need to talk you can call me."

Funny enough he didn't want to call you. "Sure." Was all he could muster up. Billy finally decided he didn't want you dead like the rest of them. You were kind enough not to piss people off but you were sure of what you wanted. Too trusting, yes but it definitely helped his case. He'd have to make a new plan one that doesn't get you hurt. Well, one that doesn't get you killed.

Part 3

[fandomwritingbit]

So this is something I've been formulating during the past two days. This isn't so much a request, just my rambling, but if it gives you some inspo then go right ahead :)

-

Steve/William is f!reader's career counselor. The first time they meet face-to-face, the way she looks and acts piques his interest. He's already planning on offering her the security gig, but purposefully doesn't propose it until a few days later just to toy with her, plus so he can have a reason to get her into his office again ASAP.

She accepts the job because even though the pay and hours aren't ideal, she still needs some money until she can find something long-term. Of course the whole "living animatronics" thing creeps her out, but sometime before she started, William made a point to tell the animatronics "Scare her, but don't kill her." After the first couple of shifts, she gets into a rhythm to tolerate them at least a little. Still a tad creepy, though not as much as that weird golden bunny looking thing in a backroom that she stumbled across one night...

Unbeknownst to her, William has developed an obsession with her. He takes advantage of the fact that he has her phone number to call her sometimes under the guise of wanting to know how the job is going and her home address so he can drive over to her place and watch her from a distance even if only for a few minutes. And yes, he's fantasized about her.

One day, he catches one of her guy friends dropping off groceries he got for her (because with the hours she's working and her now messed-up sleep schedule, who has time to buy food? lol) and this... pisses him off, so to speak. Like gripping the steering wheel levels of pissed off. Fueled by jealousy and possessiveness, next time she's in his office, he starts playing up more of his "dangerous but alluring" demeanour while still maintaining his professionalism to the best of his abilities so as to not set off any alarm bells. He even gambles ruining his entire scheme by covertly smelling her hair while she kneels down to pick something up.

He could've pounced on her right then and there. But no. He wants to draw this out a little while longer.

But when she makes an off-hand comment about looking for additional work during one of their phone calls, his patience immediately runs out. Bunny wants to leave? Like hell she will!

During her next shift, she hears commotion in one of the main areas. Believing it to be an intruder (at this point, she knows the animatronics well enough to not consider them as suspects) and goes to confront whoever it is. Lo and behold, it's that goddamn creepy bunny looking thing. Except it's moving. And laughing creepily at her. Oh shit.

The knife its brandishing in its hand certainly isn't helping matters.

After a brief scuffle, she runs to the storage area to get something better to fight off the lunatic rabbit with, but is suddenly grabbed and held by the neck and slammed against the wall. Its too strong for her to fight off and she's left panicking but still showing signs of defiance. This only seems to egg the rabbit on more as it gets uncomfortably close to her, making more creepy comments in that demonic voice, and even licks her at one point.

Soon enough, the rabbit's head is removed and she sees her career counselor underneath. Now she's even more terrified, and the sinister yet sensual actions escalate. Using the knife to force her face to look back at him, finally getting in close enough to properly smell her hair, slamming her against the wall again just to hear her groan in pain, the list goes on.

"I've waited long enough to get you like this," he says. "We're gonna be here for a long time."

-

Whatever happens after this is up to your imagination. Does she escape? Does he eventually kill her or keep her alive for his enjoyment? I dunno. Not sure how to end this. XDDD

Terrifying yet intriguing additional concept: if after he ""has fun"" with her (and who knows how long his idea of a "long time" is) and ends up killing her in the pizzeria, he hopes her ghost/spirit remains like the kids' did so that she can be stuck there as something of a maternal figure to the animatronics. If he can manipulate the kids to forget that he's the one who killed them, who's to say he can't do the same to her?

Okay... so you are a genius.

The whole idea of him withholding the job offer until the last second is absolutely the kind of manipulative thing he would do just so reader feels indebted to him and like he did her a favour. He’s such a hypocrite because when she thanks him, all  he thinks is that she’s clingy and dependent even though he’s the one calling her at least once a week to ‘check in’ and driving to her house just to catch a glimpse of her through the windows. 

As for the animatronics, telling them to scare her is just more manipulation, maybe just so he can give her tips or come to the rescue like some white knight.

He makes sure she’s still coming to appointments under the guise of looking out for her but it’s really all for him. He’s always on the verge of blowing the career counsellor cover because he leaves his hand on her back for too long, watches her lips move as she talks too much, leans in to smell her hair too often. 

And if he feels like there’s a chance he’s going to lose her? Like you said with seeing a guy friend at her house or her looking at other job options. It’s the straw for the camel, honestly. I just love the set up you have of her going to investigate a noise she’s never heard before and being accosted. Of course she fights the rabbit, smashing whatever objects she can grab into its face, pushing as hard as she can, but it only ever deters him for a second, she’s just not strong enough. 

He just revels in removing the head and seeing her eyes blow with realisation that it’s him. And you’re right, the knowledge that it's not some monster pawing at her but a bloke she’s known for weeks is much more terrifying. It’s like all her previous interactions with him replay in her mind now tinted with the creepy realisation that he was fantasising about this the whole time. He’d definitely take her right there, using that knife as motivation to make her a good girl for him. Cooing some abnormally sweet words that don’t match the dingy surroundings or the blade against her skin, “Just like that sweet girl.” Kind of things as his hand in her hair guides her to suck him. 

“You can take it, come on.” As he pushes inside her. I think he’d be ‘nice’ to her in this situation because he knows how scared she is and in a twisted way he wants her to enjoy it, if you get what I mean. 

Now after he’s devoured you, I just can’t decide if he’d kill her or not. Part of me thinks that if she begged for him to let her live he’d kill her, and if she said nothing he’d keep her around. If he let her live she’d be his from now on. Literally no escape, he knows where she lives where she works. He’d go as far as to keep track of any new jobs she applied for and bad mouth her to them, just to keep her where he wants her. 

As for the supernatural part of this, with the spirits, I think if he killed her he’d be banking on her being stuck there. Is that not the most depraved victory? He’s then your last ‘lover’ and your first killer in the same night. You would forever be his, trapped there for him to play with. Also, like if he ever was caught for his crimes her name would always be next to his. 

Anyways sorry for not doing much more with this but to be fair there wasn’t much for me to add! It was already well thought and written. Thanks so much for this xx

[sebastianswallows]

The English Client — Thirty-six

— PAIRING: Tom Riddle x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: The year is 1952. Tom is working for Borgin and Burkes. He is sent to Rome to acquire three ancient books of magic by any means necessary. One in particular proves challenging to reach, and the only path forward is through a pretty, young bookseller. A foreigner like him, she lives alone, obsessed with her work... until Tom comes into her life.

— WARNINGS: none

— WORDCOUNT: 2.3k

— TAGLIST: @esolean @localravenclaw @slytherins-heir @thiefofthecrowns

I

It wasn’t until the afternoon that she and Tom were free to leave the station. A few of the Baron’s closest friends, among them Signor Luce, had vouched for their presence at the shop the night before, although none of the parties would explain why they were there at all. From the looks exchanged between Inspector Bombulo and the sergeant, they must have suspected something foul. Human trafficking, probably… But nothing that they could accuse the Baron’s wealthy friends of. Caught in the middle of this cavalcade and seeming innocent, they were released.

The two went home together and stayed quiet the whole way. The morning trams had just started running, but they felt none of the exhaustion that they should have. Adrenaline ran its shrill course through both of them. Tom went with her to her flat without even asking and privately dreaded what she’d say when they were finally in the safety of her room, but she prolonged his suffering and continued to say nothing much at all. Every time he looked at her he could see her eyes wide with fear and dark with grim foreboding. She always did love to fret so much, his dear…

“Is my Italian really that bad?” he asked as they were taking their shoes off.

She looked up at him from beneath her lashes and finally smiled. “Not half as bad as your French.”

He was relieved to have even gotten an insult from her — something which only weeks ago would’ve been outrageous to him.

She undressed, then gently stripped the clothes off him as well. Donatien’s clothes. If Tom had much life left in him he would’ve blushed. Without even asking how he’d come to wear them — had she even caught him changing back from the Polyjuice potion? — she threw them to the side and hugged him, skin melting against skin. He read in it apologies and supplications for having kissed Donatien, but could only smile. He had been the one to tempt her, after all.

“It was a horrible night,” she muttered against his chest.

“Oh, I don’t think it was so bad,” said Tom with a thin smile, his arms wrapped around her tightly.

“Of course you don’t. You finally got what you wanted.”

Too proud to ask for her forgiveness, Tom said nothing more, and in the bright morning, they went to bed together. He found that he preferred the silence. If neither of them said a word they could pretend the night had never happened, that everything was just as it was before, and would keep being so without such a fast-approaching end to all of it. But he could feel her holding onto him more tightly than she ever did, and he might’ve done the same. With fingers intertwined, she clasped his hand in hers as if to dream was to risk being cast adrift.

II

They were woken up quite late, at around six in the evening, by the ringing of the telephone. She rolled out of bed like a clumsy little storm and picked up before Tom could even groan.

“Yes?” she sighed. “Hello, mother. Yes, I sound tired because I am. No, I —” A pause in contemplation. “No, you know what, yes, I did just wake up.” The ghost of angry chiding on the other end. “Because I came in late last night. Anyway, how are you?”

Tom, lying on his stomach and so sleepy he could hardly feel his body, turned his head to look at her. There was a different quality to her voice that day, an impetuousness, a sharpness, something consummately stronger. He knew he’d had no part in it but he still felt quite proud.

“No,” she sighed, “I can’t tell you why. Because I can’t. And actually, I don’t even want to tell you. That’s right. Fine then. Fine. Go ahead, hang up.”

She slammed the receiver down as soon as it began to beep. Then, like a naked warrior emerging from the heat of battle, she fell upon the bed and groaned. Tom chuckled as he watched her cuddle close to him again and opened his arms to receive her.

III

“Mmmm… What time is it?”

“Half past one.”

“Damn.”

“I made tea.”

“Is it magic tea?”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious!”

“Do you want it or not?”

“Yes, please.”

“Then sit up.”

“Thank you…”

“And to answer your question, yes, I did brew it with magic.”

“REALLY???”

“Careful! You’ll spill it!”

IV

The whole day was wasted, at least from Tom’s point of view. He was stared at as if she could just by looking at him discover yet newer and more fascinating things about him. And the questions, the endless questions… She wanted to know where he’d learned everything and could hardly believe that it was in a school. Tom must have made it sound like the most ordinary thing — because, to him, it was. She was expecting, of course, that it was from some hermit living in a cave or a secret cult of witches, or from a book that she too could have found and read. Tom had to tell her with a secret little sting in his heart that it was not possible.

Then, quite reasonably, she wanted to know just what he’d done to Mr. Malfoy.

“I can’t tell you. But it’s harmless, I promise.”

He’d brought the book home as well, still in its decorative box. It amused him how although she’d handled it extensively the night before, now she was too afraid to touch it. She stared at it intensely though after Tom took it out. They made plans together on where to hide it. There was no indication that the Carabinieri would visit them at home but he wanted to prepare just in case.

“I’ll be damned if I let it fall into muggle hands again.”

“What’s a muggle?”

“…Nevermind.”

In the end, he decided to disguise it as a box of matches. It took several minutes for her to close her mouth after she saw him perform the simple spell, and he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t cute.

“They’ll get suspicious if they see it and notice you don’t smoke, though,” she said once she came back to her senses. “Especially considering they’re investigating arson at the Baron’s library.”

“…Packet of chewing gum, then.” He’d never before been so happy to have such a clever girlfriend.

“So you can just… change something into something else?”

“Magic would be very dull if it couldn’t even accomplish that, wouldn’t it?”

“And people too?”

“Well…”

“And people too?”

“To be specific, that’s a potion.”

“TOM!”

“OW!” he shouted as she hit him in the arm. He realised now whenever she’d done it before she was only playing at it.

“I knew he sounded strange!”

“The potion doesn’t change your voice, I had to — Ow!”

“And you made me feel bad about it!”

“You chose to feel bad. Ah, stop it!”

Fortunately, she was too distracted with hitting every part of him she could reach to ask what happened to the real Donatien. With any luck, she never would know.

Slowly, as they always did, they made up, and to wash all the unpleasantness out of her mind the faster Tom suggested they go out. They went for a walk, stopping for a quick meal at the first clean restaurant they saw, and by sunset, they found themselves before the Baron’s building.

There was still a little crowd outside and a police car that was empty, but they’d missed most of the fuss. The fire had been contained before it consumed the whole building, but the library was completely destroyed. The newspapers were reporting speculation that the blaze was the result of an occult ritual gone wrong, and by the time the two of them joined the onlookers the latest whisper was that the old man had tried to open a portal to hell. Tom couldn’t be happier.

“I won’t ask why you’re smiling.”

“Good.”

“But I know you shouldn’t.”

“Oh come now, don’t you find it at least a little bit amusing? And fitting?”

“You’re horrid.”

“You’ve only just noticed?”

She sighed but kept holding his hand.

“What happens now?” she asked as they started walking home.

“What do you mean?”

“Will you leave me?”

A lump formed in his throat and he had to force the words out. It was a struggle to speak calmly, smoothly, with no sign of a tremble in his voice.

“I have to.”

“But why?! You’re a… you’re a wizard,” she whispered, even though there was nobody around anymore. “You can live anywhere, do anything!”

“If only it were that simple…”

Her face was such a perfect melding of angry and sad. It was, in fact, perfect in every way.

“You just think I’m not good enough for you, don’t you?” she said, standing before him with heartbroken fury.

The thought had crossed his mind. It was actually one of the favourite things he told himself when he needed a reminder that he’d have to leave. But the longer he searched for an answer for her, the more he was confronted with the looming phantom of a thought — the truth was in fact the opposite: he’d never felt good enough for her.

“Tom,” she sighed, wrapping her arms around herself. “Just tell me…”

“Why? Would it give you great pleasure in hearing it?”

“No,” she said with a pained smile. Her voice wavered with unshed tears. “But I’d rather hear it than keep thinking it. Pull it out of my head and be done with it.”

Her voice struck Tom like a blade, like a talon, like a thorn caught somewhere between his heart and ribs that pained him with every breath. It would’ve been so easy to say it, just as he’d found it easy to think it, but the words got stuck along the way and choked him.

It started snowing just then, the first snow of the year. Neither of them cared to look at it. Her face was veiled behind her foggy breath and slowly stars of snowflakes gathered in the soft canopy of her hair. Tom reached to touch one and let his gloved hand linger until he could cup her face. She stepped closer, a lost doe seeking warmth, and pressed her hands against the lapels of his coat.

“Ask me to come along with you again,” she said. “Ask me one more time, just like you used to.”

He cocked a brow. That was the last thing he had expected her to say. Every time he’d offered she shot him down, and now? She knew just as well as he did that it would look suspicious, given the circumstances. But something in her voice was… desperate. Was she really as in love with him as she seemed to be, or was she just expecting him to get her out of trouble?

“Ask me,” she said again.

“Why? You’ve said no plenty of times.”

In truth, he’d only asked her to join him in England in an attempt to gain her trust — to get closer to the book. The Polyjuice solution had made her no longer necessary as he could get the book from Malfoy directly in a way that satisfied the protection spells around the shop. But standing before him she seemed genuinely hurt in a way Tom couldn’t comprehend — or didn’t want to. He had barely begun to comprehend his own feelings, fraught as they were.

Her jaw was tight, her eyes smouldered, and Tom remained silent and unmoving. Whatever it was she thought, she didn’t say it. Instead, she turned sharply on her heels and left. Or would have. Tom had gripped her elbow and he would not let her go.

“Why do you wish to leave with me? Why now?”

She threw a frown at him, so angry at his rejection that it clouded all her thoughts. She said nothing but it didn’t stop Tom from trying to read her mind.

“Why?” he asked again.

But she ripped herself out of his grip before he could read her thoughts and turned away, trotting through the soft floating snow.

V

He plated the book in front of him and it landed with a gentle thud. With the reverence of a bridegroom on a wedding night, Tom reached down and pulled the cloth away and saw the horrid face of dead dry leather, stitched up, shining in the candlelight. He had to convince himself he was worthy of touching it. It wasn’t every day he read a book written by the devil. He spent a few moments just contemplating the cover, the feel of it, the binding, the scent of an old corpse... Books like this should be savoured. It was like a whole new world one stepped in with their fingers, a mind cracked open like a shout of thunder crashing through the air.

What craftsmanship that had gone into it, what care… Going as far as selecting the right skin for it, the blood to make the ink, the parchment lacquered in black wax to make the pages shine. Someone had loved this book with all the fervour and the pain of a mother giving birth, and throughout its lengthy life so far, it had known many other loves. Obsessive, possessive love, yet reverent as well. It did not escape Tom’s notice that it would make a worthy Horcrux.

But, on the off-chance that it really was written by a demonic being, binding his soul to it might not be such a good idea.

He cracked it open. It groaned. The pages sighed upon being exposed and the front cover fell upon the desk like a foot tapping down. The same devil on the frontispiece waved at him in silence as that which Mr. Malfoy saw.

“Venetiae, apud Aristidem Torchiam & LCF,” he read out loud. Looking more closely, he noticed a thin writing on the foot of the demonic throne, almost less of a text and more of a clawed scribble. “Sic luceat lux… Thus let the light shine.”

[koolades-world]

the inspiration behind this idea came from one of my favorite vocaloid songs from back in the day. rediscovering the song gave me some great inspo. the songs is about gukapo, whose likely playing a character for the purpose of this song, the purple haired man in the thumbnail, who sees a girl he’s immediately enamored with after she runs into him at a party. after following her out of the venue, he sees her with another man and kidnapped her. her holds her captive and later kills her lover. at the end of sing, she rejects his advances and it’s implied he hurts or kills her. I love vocaloid :)) at one point in the songs he's like "i'll just cut off your legs so you can't run from me" and that screams barb. dark vocaloid is one of my fav genres

had a tough time picking between belphie or barb, but you guys decided for me!!

quick warning! the beginning of the song is a little loud and scared me the first time I listened. it’s just some rain and glass breaking but just know not to have it too loud if you do listen. also general warnings of yandere themes, kidnapping, bodily harm to both parties involved, and blood.

alright i've rambled enough now! If you couldn't tell i was very excited to write this. please enjoy!

Destiny

"You didn't notice? It has been written in the stars that we were to be together since the beginning of time. It's just a shame we faced so many 'bumps in the road,' on our journey where our paths converged to one, as he always put it."

It wasn’t supposed to be this way, and he knew it.

You’d noticed his gradual changes in behavior. At first, it was nothing to you. Finding excuses to see you throughout the day with small tokens of his affection, and brief moments spend hidden in closest together to avoid being seen by Lucifer or Diavolo that turned into more, despite the fact that he had no need to hide from them. You suspected he treasured these moments, just like you did, so who were you to object? He treated you like the crown jewels, and you weren't even certain he was this close to Diavolo.

His obsession gradually grew slowly, and you were none the wiser, like a frog set in a pot of water that had yet to be turned to boil. "It was just Barbatos being Barbatos" you thought as he began to show up in your room any night you weren't staying at a palace with treats made specially for you. "It's just because he cares" you thought as he started to fend off demons he deemed as untrustworthy in all parts of your life. "He's so sweet" you thought as he began blocking off portions of his day for time with you, and only you. "He must really care! I'm so lucky to have him in my life." These thoughts are exactly what he had intended to plant into your head all along.

Unbeknownst to you, despite his signature air of indifference, Barbatos had been taken with you from the start. He had hoped you'd come to live with him in the palace, but unfortunately, the Young Master has wanted you with the brothers instead. It wasn't a problem, however. He made sure to make an effort to make his way into your life even if it was somewhere he didn't belong. Despites his efforts though, you grew much too close to Solomon for his liking. He often opted to go out of his way to separate the two of you, so he could keep you all for himself.

But what did that damned sorcerer have that he didn't? His humanity. Although it was long gone, he knew what it was like to be human. The thought of this infuriated Barbatos. The fact that something as simple as human mortality was keeping him away from Mc absolutely would not do. Of course, it wasn't something he couldn't fix. His hatred for the

He could just swap to the timeline where he was the apple of their eye, without all the playful dancing around what he so desperately wished for, but where was the fun in that? Good things came to those who waited. He of all demons would know. Besides, it would bring him great joy to make Solomon suffer. He was nothing but trouble and Barbatos would revel in his absence.

The way Solomon swept you off your feet in a way he just couldn't almost made him drop his facade several times. The moments the two of you had shared in the broom closets now became you and Solomon vanishing when he came searching for you. You were at the House of Lamentation less frequently, and were always out with that human. When you two finally made it official, and began dating, he knew Solomon had tried his best to keep the news from reaching his ears. But nothing escaped Barbatos, not when it was about you. He always thought it was ironic his favorite and least favorite human had found their way together, but it was just a road bump, as he heard Solomon refer to his problems. Barbatos always thought it was annoying.

After lots of meticulous planning, he finally decided he was ready to have you all to himself. He was done sharing what was rightfully his with Solomon. He called you, saying it was urgent and that you needed to come over to the palace right away. After saying something about how it concerned your family and that you were to come alone, he set his D.D.D. down and waited. He knew you would have told Solomon, or whoever you happened to be with, which would give them the excuse he needed to get you away from the others.

When you showed up, he invited you into his room with little words. It was strange of him to be so silent. He also had his usual, sweet smile on his face, but it seemed more intense that usual. You just couldn't understand how he looked so calm when he'd had a sense of urgency in his voice not even ten minutes ago when you'd spoken to him on the phone. After you stepped into his room, he closed the door behind you, and shut the lights off. You'd never been more terrified of the demon you'd come to love.

Before you knew it, you were waking up in a human sized cage in the corner of Barbatos' room you hadn't noticed when you'd entered. Besties being locked inside, there was also an ornate choker around your neck you could only describe as a collar. After sitting up, you began to look around for Barbatos. As you searched, he emerged from dark spot in the room, the same intense grin on his face from earlier.

"Barb? What's the matter?" You placed both hands on the bars and squeezed.

"Nothing, my love." He took a seat on his bed, and just started at you, unblinking.

"Can you please let me out then? Don't we have to go see my family? If they need my help, I want to be there for them." You got to your feet, only to hit your head on the ceiling of the cage.

"You're best kept here, where you're safe and away from Solomon." His eye twitched slightly at the name of your lover.

"Open the door. Barbatos, this isn't funny." You tried to shake the bars, trying to find the Barbatos you'd loved. He just stared. It was beginning to get very creepy. "Please. I don't like this. What have I done?"

"Nothing, and that's precisely it, dear. You're too precious for this world, and I've decided it's best you stay here, with me. Where better for you to be?" He finally blinked, and the gentle smile you knew well returned. For a moment, you thought the joke had finally ended, and he was about to open to cage door to let you know it was all for a surprise. But, he didn't. Instead, he got up and walked towards his door. Before he left, he spun back around to speak to you a final time. "I'll be back later with dinner. Sit tight, and I'll answer more of your questions later." He opened the door just enough to leave, and slipped out.

You were alone. You knew better than anyone else that his room was soundproofed, and that screaming was pointless. You tried to escape for what felt like hours and cried for some portion of that too. Nothing you tried worked, even summoning any of the brothers with your pact. Did he always want to just keep you in the corner of his room, like some trinket, from the very beginning? You had millions of questions.

When he returned with a plate of food, like he'd promised, you didn't know how long it had been. Your back was to the door, tears caked on your face. "My darling, I brought dinner, like I promised." You didn't want or feel like moving to face him.

"Why?" Your voice was raw, and you weren't sure if you were more upset about the seeming betrayal, or the treatment you were receiving, as if nothing was wrong.

'Why? I thought I told you this. You know how much I hate redundance." The loving lilt in his voice dropped.

"You lied to me. To think I ever loved you." You whipped your head around to meet his gaze, letting the emotions seep their way into your words. He looked more dull and empty than you'd ever seen him. He didn't respond. He moved towards the cage, causing you to scoot back, suddenly afraid.

"I know you tried to escape. I don't appreciate that, love. That's what the point of your necklace is. I work quite hard on that." He opened the door and yanked you towards him by your ankles, causing you to fall flat on your face. In his other hand, he held a knife you'd never seen before.

"What the hell are you doing? Put that away." You kicked your legs, but he and his gaze remained unwavering. He rested the knife on your knee joint, and slid his gloved hand up your leg so his thumb rested next to the blade. It was a touch that was all too familiar. He seemed to feed of your fear, and a small smile grew on his face.

"If you apologize right now, I'll have no reason to cut your legs off." You could feel the blood draining from your face. He'd never been violent with you before, but you knew he could if he wanted to. "Well? I haven't got all day."

"I- I'm sorry, Barb. Please put the knife away." You're relieved at how his expression softens and how his hands slide back down to your ankles. However, much to your surprise, he slashes the bottoms of your feet with the knife before letting go of your legs suddenly. Your scream was equally one of pain and shock. Blood began to pour out of the cut. You cradled your legs closer to yourself, now facing him as he turned around to get the first aid kit he happened to have on hand.

"You won't be going anywhere now, will you?" He hummed as he pressed a cloth around your feet to stop the bleeding. You could only stare at him in horror as he tended to the wounds he'd created. "You can sleep with me in my bed tonight. I'm sorry, but it had to be done. I can't have you leaving me." He smiled as he would at the Little D's but you would never see it the same again.

As the days went by, you began to wonder just how much of the outside life you were missing. What where they doing in RAD? How long did they expect you to be gone? Did Solomon miss you? Your only company was the soft pulsing of the portals that were somewhere nearby when Barbatos wasn't in the room. The only way to tell what time of day it was, or how much time had passed was the routine meals he brought to you like clockwork. He would consistently mention, especially nightly when he would drag you out of the cage to bed with him, about how this is how things were meant to be, and that how this was your mutual destiny. He'd never mentioned that before, but now it seemed like it was all he wanted to talk about. It was strange, but if he was happy, you could’ve cared less. Most of the time, you just remained silent, unless he directly inquired you. He was his charming self again, with the empty Barbatos returning rarely. He’d broken your trust, but didn’t seem to care. He treated you just like he had before you got with Solomon, like the days where the two of you acted like children with crushes on each other. He wanted to go back to the days of chaste kisses and long nights together, but you couldn’t get past what he’d done. You never tried to refute his claims, but deep down, it disgusted you.

He didn’t hurt you too badly, or too often, but that didn’t take away from the constantly fear. Seemingly, if he felt like it, he’d get the knife back out and threaten you with it in a very violet way, before only minorly hurting you compared to what he’s just threatened to do. Once, he said he was going to stab both of your eyes out if you didn’t stop crying so much, becuase he hated seeing you upset. Instead, after you promised to stop, he danced his blade on your face and left some minor injuries. The entire time, one of his hands was on your chin and he was looking directly into your eyes. At one point, he even threatened to carve his name into your neck so you’d never forget who he thought you belonged to. Sometimes, you thought he enjoyed seeing you suffering more than just physically, because he'd keep your D.D.D. charged and leave it in your sights while he was gone. You could see all the texts and incoming calls, but powerless to respond, just to let them know you were in their backyard. Solomon called the most, but your group chat with the brothers seemed to continue as normal.

After another afternoon of tears while Barbatos was gone, he returned earlier than expected, leaving you no time to clear up your tears. Without any words, he dropped something next to you. Through tears, you tried to make out what he'd dropped. When you looked up, you saw him expectantly smiling down at you. You looked back down to try and figure out what he'd left. You grabbed it through the bars, studying it.

"He's finally out of the way, dear. You don't need him. That wretched sorcerer only caused us problems. You were happy with me, so you can be happy with me again." With horror, you realized you were holding a fragment of Solomon's wand. The very same wand that been the source of many of your problems, but also love, together. You'd polished it many times. The piece you were holding was part of the tip where the cute star rested.

Barbatos knelt down beside you to open the door, but you didn't move. But you had finally had it with him. You almost didn't want to know what he did to your lover and refused to even think about the possibilities. Gripping the wand piece in one hand, you balled up the other and socked Barbatos as hard as you could in the face. You hit the center of his face, and he stumbled back a little. He touched his nose gently with his hand, and both of you saw the blood trickling down onto his white glove. You made eye contact, and you saw the sweet Barbatos leave you along with any ounce of courage you'd mustered up to do that, for Solomon.

Nobody ever did see you, or Solomon again.

i wrote this all in one sitting!! not in love with it since I don't think I'm great at writing action but i really like the beginning!! hope you liked this bc this was so fun to write

[ficzhub]

The Foreign Woman: Part 2

Aemond Targeryen x Older Myrish OC (Alexyse Majeríz)

Part one: https://www.tumblr.com/ficzhub/755985825024671744/the-foreign-woman

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CW: hurt/comfort, beginnings of obsession, dysfunctional family, mommy issues, comforting a child as an older child kinda, bloody injury (he just lost his eye), duplicitous OC, creepy crush, jealous Aemond Targaryen.

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Chapter 2: Don’t Call Me That.

She'd expected the prince to never acknowledge the fact that he'd cried in her arms until he fell asleep in them, she'd counted on it. She was already relegated to mostly picking up after the children, to be told to focus entirely on only one of them would limit her even more. But that's exactly what happened. Alexyse had left the little prince's chambers eventually but it was a struggle. Anytime she thought he'd finally gone to sleep, she'd try to leave him to sleep only to be held back with a firm grip on her and pulled back to his side. It broke her heart of course, she wasn't a monster. This little boy was so starved of genuine affection that he was clinging on to the first drop he'd gotten with as much strength as he could muster. It took two hours of total stillness to get out of the bed and leaving him tucked in.

The next morning she'd woken up extra early to trek back into the castle, do everything she couldn't do the night before because of Aemond so that no one suspects, and her regular work, as well as keeping up with her true assignment. She felt bad for leaving the little boy alone for the rest of the night, but she couldn't possibly stay there. As necessary as it had felt in the moment, she can hardly do what she needs if Aemond won't let her out of his arms any time he could help it. Fortunately he's begun training and his lessons again today and it'll be no easy feat since getting accustomed to doing it all without an eye, so she thought she'd be able to work unencumbered.

She'd figured out the rift between Princess Rhaenyra and Otto Hightower only deepened. She'd like to say it was because of Aemond's injury, but knowing the man Otto is, it's only more farce. He doesn't love his grandchildren, she doesn't even think he loves his daughter Alicent. He loves control, he loves power, he loves having the upper hand.

That night, when she was preparing to ready the children for bed, he was there again looking just as morose.

"Would you hold me again?" He asked in a small voice.

She looked up at his sad, weepy little face and again, couldn't deny him.

"Yes My Prince, but I have to finish my workload for the day. I'll come back when I'm done."

"Don't call me that." He says, sounding upset

"Don't call you 'My Prince'? That's your title-"

"I don't care, don't call me that. Not you." He insists

"I have to call you that Prince Aem-"

"Please, not you." He begged.

"Well, if anyone else is around, I'll have to. But if it's only us two, then I won't. Alright, honey?" She agrees

He smiles slightly and nods

She finishes the work in his room and starts to leave when she hears "Please don't go."

"I'll be right back Aemond, I just need to finish the work for tonight. This morning I had to wake up with barely three hours of sleep to finish what I didn't get to do last night."

"You promise?" He asks

"Of course." She says, heading out to finish.

She readies little Prince Daeron and tucks him into bed as well, preparing the tub for his bath in the morning and notes the little one's mattress should be replaced soon. Nasty bedbugs are starting to show.

"We're you ever a wet nurse?" The little boy asks

"Pardon, my lord?" She asks, surprised the boy is talking to her at all. This would be the first time.

"We're you a wet nurse?" He asks again

"No my prince, why?" She says, laughing a little.

"Your duckies," he says, pointing at her chest. "Wet nurses have big ones like you."

Even the ugly, beige tarp of her overdress didn't conceal them. She was rather shapely for a seventeen year old with no children.

"No my prince, I've never nursed any babe before." She smiles, "Sleep well."

"Why do you sound like that?" He asks

"Like what, Prince Daeron?"

"You talk strangely." He says

"Well I'm from another land!" She announces as though it's something magical, achieving some giggles from the six-year-old. "Sleep well, my prince."

She leaves the bedroom unaware that Aemond is following behind, making sure she does good on her promise and comes back to him. He didn't like seeing her taking care of his brother, making him laugh, and knowing she'd done the same for Helaena, even if that was her position. He absolutely loathed knowing she'd done so for Aegon as well, even if not with as much care. Aegon already gets everything he doesn't deserve with absolutely no effort behind it, he can't let him get her, too. He felt bad, seeing the chores she had to do. Chores he'd never even given thought to how they'd get done, that he'd taken for granted. He didn't want her doing things for other people, putting effort into them, expending herself on others. He wanted to have her all to himself.

When he heard her tell the other chambermaid she was done, he raced back to his chambers and waited with baited breath for her to come to him, excited about what he was going to demand from his mother in the morning. A whole 45 minutes passed and she still hadn't come back to him, and he was started to feel angry at her thinking she'd lied to placate him until he heard his door open. She came in with her hair up differently then when she'd been working and in a different dress. Not a nice one, still clearly displaying her position in the castle.

"What took you so long?" He asks

"I told you Aemond, I had to finish work then I went to bathe, I was covered in filth and sweat."

"You bathed?"

"Of course, every day before sleep."

"You bathe every day?" He asks surprised, since he didn't think that was common among nobles let alone the servants.

"Oh yes, I was raised that way."

"Why?" He asks hostilely, still upset it took her as long as it did to get to her, tired from following her and holding off sleeping until she got there.

"I'm a human being, I get filthy every day so I must wash it off every night. I could hardly sleep like a pig." She says, without thinking.

He tries to ignore the rage at being reminded of the cruel joke from before he'd claimed Vhagar and just relish in her getting into bed with him to hold him and comfort him again. Even though it'd delayed her, he did enjoy how she smelled. Though the smell had persisted even when she hadn't washed yet that night, it was more powerful now. The spicy citrus scent pervaded his lungs and he felt himself relax into her arms and fell asleep almost immediately after that.

Despite the comfort she brings him at night, he hates waking up and seeing she’s no longer there. He doesn’t blame her, the staff isn’t allowed to be in the chambers after a certain hour. But that only pushes him to get ready quicker to see his mother for his request, although it’s much more a demand. He breaks fast with his family, as awkward and silent as it always is and waits for the opportune moment to catch his mother alone.

“Very well, any particular reason you want this specific chambermaid?” She asks, suspecting it’s not because of her excellency in cleaning but more likely a crush the young boy has on her.

“She’s very…diligent.” He says stifling the desperation in his voice.

“Mm,” the Queen says smiling “Alright, what’s this maid’s name?”

At this he froze in embarrassment, because he had no idea as he hadn’t bothered to ask…

AO3 link:

[whileyoureinschoolidothisallday]

◇𓂂☽𓂂🐚Arisa Cliche's Wips for Gaza! 🐚𓂂☾𓂂◇

Hi, hi friends! @ficsforgaza has started a charity event and I'd really like to participate, so I've decided to start a sponsorship page! Right now, I'm only writing for MHA and Obey Me!, but I have enough fics brewing or in progress that you'll have plenty a selection!

How this works ~ The rate is $1 for 100 words. Basically, you would make a donation and send me an ask with the following details:

🍉 The name of the wip you're donating towards

🍉 A screenshot of your donation with your private info censored (I will not be publishing these asks)

🍉 A link to the fundraiser you chose! I will be accepting donations to anything on this list, Crips for eSims for Gaza, and my personal fave!

I will keep the WIP section of this post updated with all donations as soon as possible!

Now...let's get to the WIPS!!!!!

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MHA✼ ҉　✼

{In Progress}

⚝ Bury my Ashes at Sea (Touya "Dabi" Todoroki x Reader) (Longfic)

You and Dabi have been broken up for some time now, but you're still the only person he wants to see before he takes his final bow. With your grieving face still fresh in his mind, he can't help but wonder how things would be different if you two met when you were kids. In his daydreams, he gifts you a Quirk, and you both go to U.A together. He becomes a hero, and you his adored engineer. When everything inevitably goes to hell...you become a villain with him. A villain he names Hex. Content: Hero!AU, female reader, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, established relationship, post break-up, angst, reader is physically disabled and chronically ill and has an established backstory, non-explicit sexual content in later chapters, very very lovesick and typically obsessive Touya, Sad Ending Snippet:

est wc: 55k current wc: 22707 sponsored wc: 0/32293

{New Concepts}

♪bottom of the river. (Touya Todoroki x Siren!Reader) (Oneshot)

The eldest Todoroki boy is found adrift at sea. Covered in burns from head to toe, but somehow still breathing. He was missing for days. The accident should've killed him. No one knows how he survived. The town praises it as a miracle. But when Rei notices that he suddenly keeps sneaking to the ocean in the middle of the night, and hums a disjointed melody when no one else is around, she begins to suspect that it was no miracle that saved her son. Content: Fantasy!AU, horror concept, Touya is being claimed by a Siren but Rei is not willing to give up her son, VERY inspired by some of the things I wrote in Bury My Ashes at Sea so there might be similar imagery, reader's gender is simply not planned to be mentioned, sfw, Rei's POV est wc: 10-13k current wc: 0 sponsored wc: 500/13000

🧛🏽Unnamed (Touya Todoroki x Vampire!Reader)

Touya doesn't know a kind of love where he doesn't hurt. He prides himself in it, really. He's perfect for you. You bite him and he doesn't feel it. He's already covered in bandages from his Quirk, so no one notices a difference. And if he's a little extra dizzy or laid up in bed, who cares? He's always been a little sickly. No one notices. Don't worry about him. You tell him how good he tastes and he doesn't think he's ever felt so alive in his life. He lets you take as much as you want. See, you don't need other, stronger humans. He can take it. This is what love is. He'll never tell you to stop. Not even when he can't feel his fingers anymore. Just don't pick someone else. Content: Fantasy!AU, GN!reader where I would try to keep specific body mentions very limited, Bratty Needy Touya, Quirks still exist but so do monsters because why not, Civilian Touya who never had his accident, this has potential for nsfw I could be persuaded! est wc: 7-10k current wc: 0 sponsored wc: 0/10000

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Obey Me! ʚ♡ɞ

{In Progress}

💖Love Is A Liar's Game (All of the Brothers + Diavolo and Solomon x Three OCs) (Longfic. Like...very long. Covers at least the first two seasons)

When Diavolo announces the plan for a human exchange program, the Charas, MC, Y/N, and OC (real names redacted), see it as the perfect opportunity to pull off the ultimate scam: seducing the rulers of hell and taking the throne. However...falling in love with their marks might complicate things. Content: Religious cults, drug use, the Charas are Gaslight Gatekeep Girlboss incarnate, toxic relationships, polyamory (each of the Charas date three boys), humor, disabled mc (OC), plus-size mc (Y/N), and non-binary mc (MC), some angst here and there, mostly canon compliant but I fix some things, explicit content eventually...the first chapter is already posted on ao3 so please read my author's note to get an idea of what to expect! Snippet:

est wc: over 100k easy current wc: 6816 (the 2nd chapter is almost done!) sponsored wc: 0/120000

🍬Touch-starved (Beelzebub x OC) (oneshot)

This is a companion piece to Love is a Liar's Game. Beel's Gluttony is not restricted to only food. He's avoided even kissing OC to prevent himself from becoming a bottomless pit for her love, which has ruined plenty of his relationships prior. But when her and Belphie finally become intimate, and his brother can't stop talking about her (or keep his hands off her), a strange, sour taste won't leave his mouth. It's jealousy. (If this is donated to completion I will also post the Belphie oneshot I already finished, Breathless!)

Content: Post-Chapter 16, pining, explicit sexual content, oral reference (m), recreational alcohol, submissive beel, use of pact during sex, tiny bit of angst for flavor, typical humor for this fic universe, lots of pet names between these two lol

Snippet:

est wc: 15k current wc: 9909 (it's almost done!!!!!!!!!!!) sponsored wc: 0/15000

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If y'all have any further questions, please let me know!!!! Thanks in advance for any and all donations!!!!

From the river to the sea!! 🍉🍉🍉

[crowpickingss]

Can I get a Monty x witch reader? A friends to lovers where they met and became friends when he was human and after being turned back to a crow, the reader helps him turn back to human and they start a relationship? Maybe add in a cute little date? Please and thank you

Wand and a Crow

monty x gn! witch reader

summary: you’re a witch and Monty’s a crow. You catch feelings for him but they don’t come to light after you revive him

warnings: witchcraft, crying

a/n: tysm for the request! obsessed with the reader having a cat

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You had picked Port Townsend to live in because it was the only town that was small enough that people wouldn’t suspect your a witch but it was big enough to still have everything you needed.

Your familiar a black cat had become friends with a crow. That crow led you to Esther. Turns out Esther was a witch just like you. She would let her crow out to visit you and your cat a lot. He was also a carrier crow taking back ingredients she requested from you.

One day the crow came by a note in between his claws the note read “mediling kids and ghosts in town, keep an eye out” You read over the note petted the crow on the back and walked away to go make potions.

The next day you heard a knock at your door. You opened it and was surprised to see someone who you didn’t know “Can I help you” He smiled “Uh yeah this might come across weird but I’m Esther’s crow” You smiled “Monty?” He nodded

You welcomed him into the home and your cat immediately jumped onto him “So you’re human now, why’s that?” He petted your cat “Ghosts, Esther needs my help” You placed a cup of tea in front of him “Maybe I’ll turn Mr Kitty over there into a human” He picked him up and cuddled him “I think he’s better as a cat” You laughed.

Over the next week you two grew a close bond, you knew about his plan but you had suspected he liked Edwin for a while. You didn’t let your feelings for him get mixed in with his feelings for Edwin.

When Edwin rejected him he was banging on your door face covered in tears. You welcomed him in sat him down, let him cry, talked about it. He truly felt so lucky to have a human friend in that moment.

What he didn’t tell you was the woods incident. You only found out that Esther was gone a week after when you hadn’t heard from her. You walked in saw the horror that was the ghost boy experience. You also saw Monty in his cage. You opened it and he flew around landing on your arm.

You took him back to your house where you preformed the spell to turn him human. When he came back you forced him to tell you what happened. You now knew everything which was a lot.

But the last thing he told you is what stuck with you. He told you that after Edwin rejected him, his feelings for you grew. In his explaining of events he subtly hinted at his feelings toward you.

You being too caught up in Esther trying to kill the ghost his confession went over your head. So when he asked if you said yes, you were a bit confused “Yes to what?” He was confused “Do you love me, uh I mean do you want to be with me” Your eyes lit up with stars “Are you serious, yes Monty I loved you from the moment you knocked on my door. You had feelings for Edwin though so I didn’t say anything”

He smiled “Well I think you’re better than Edwin” You smiled “You are such a flirt” He laughed “Not really” Monty was the best boyfriend and cat dad you could ask for.

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

[gellavonhamster]

assigning each straw hat pirate a knight of the round table

because I am currently obsessed both with One Piece and Arthuriana; not any kind of serious AU material, just silliness; I Wrote This for Me but You Can Read If You Like

Luffy: Arthur, not due to any similarities in characterization but purely on the functional level - the boy king, the inspirational leader and, as Sun God Nika, a mythical figure believed to return when people need him the most

Zoro: Lancelot, the perfect warrior who embodies that post that's like "it's not my fault that my love language is acts of service and all I know how to do is kill". There is no Queen Guinevere here, so all the undying devotion is aimed at the king instead. Canonically has massive tits. Mihawk is thus implied to be the Lady of the Lake, and I think that's hilarious

Nami: hear me out: Kay. Sharp-tongued, rather cynical, but loyal to a fault to his king/adopted little brother. Nami as part of the Coward Trio vs. Kay being unlucky on quests and generally the butt of the joke. Isn't known to be a great warrior but occupies an important position (navigator vs. seneschal) that keeps the ship/court going. Besides, looking from the opposite direction, I just think Kay deserves to be the hot girl

Usopp: Usopp, sweetie, I'm so sorry, but I gotta say Tristan. Because Tristan is constantly lying about his identity in the most ridiculous manner possible and it somehow works. That part in Le Morte d'Arthur when he's asked what his name is and goes "Tramtrist" and no one suspects a thing even though "Tramtrist" is just "Tristram" with syllables switched around has big Sniper King energy. Also, can't forget the beautiful blonde healer girlfriend

Sanji: oh, that's the easiest one. Gawain. The Maidens' Knight, the ladies' man, a great warrior and one of the king's closest and most trusted men. If you put together Gawain's characterizations from different texts, from SGATGK to Le Morte to the Vulgate & Post-Vulgate to Chrétien de Troyes to everything, you end up with a contradictory character who is simultaneously the best and the worst guy you'll ever meet, which is how I often feel about Sanji, tbh. Would totally fight at a tournament on behalf of a little girl. Has some kind of an epic gay thing with Lancelot

Chopper: Yvain. Son of a sorceress - ah, pardon, a woman of science; associated with animals; known to be nice and kind (the Vulgate Cycle describes him as the one "whose heart will be filled with every kindness"). Occasionally goes insane in the woods (Monster Point), but, like, who doesn't

Robin: try as I might, I can't pull any direct parallels out of my ass, but I do think that narratively she can be seen as kind of a quasi-Mordred. Since her very childhood she was proclaimed to be bad news and expected to eventually cause a catastrophe, but where Mordred, whom no one tries to persuade the prophecy doesn't define him, ends up becoming exactly what he's expected to become, Robin has people who support her and trust her even after witnessing her be the bad guy in the past, so she never becomes the evil others expect her to turn into

Franky: Sagramore the Desirous (or the Unruly, depending on the text/translation) is a big, strong, good-natured knight who probably has low blood sugar needs to have a snack after fighting because otherwise he'll pass out, much like a certain cyborg needs his cola. In the Post-Vulgate, he and Mordred were raised together, which can be linked to Frobin's fates being intertwined since childhood, because I've Connected the Dots (you didn't connect shit)

Brook: I wanted to pick a character of the older generation who nevertheless isn't a mentor figure to Arthur, and I struggle to think of a better option than Pellinore - not the predatory piece of shit in the medieval texts, but the eccentric but loveable old man in Camelot (1967). Brook is also on a quest focused on an extraordinary beast! Only he's not hunting it, he's trying to get back to it because that beast is his friend 🥺

Jinbei: I honestly don't remember if he counts as the Knight of the Round Table, but I am hereby appointing him Ector - Arthur's adoptive father and one of the nicest parental figures in Arthuriana (and probably one of the nicest people in Arthuriana, period). I've also considered Galehaut for the "(partially) non-human ruler who allies himself with Arthur" angle, but that would imply Jinbei/Zoro and I'm not ready to deal with that.

[hamliet]

Hi I love your meta about Hazbin Hotel, and I wanted to ask what you think about specifically Lute and Adam's relationship?

I see it as perhaps a prime example of an unhealthy power balance in a relationship, but not a romantic one. I could see an argument for unrequited love on Lute's part, but it's not particularly clear. I think it's more like adoration on Lute's behalf and ego for Adam.

I also know @aspoonofsugar is working on a meta about the angels that will touch a lot on this relationship, so I'll let Sugar do most of the meta-ing here, but I will say a few things.

Adam reminds me of a cult leader--a person who uses the ideals of a religion, philosophy, or political matter to prop up themselves. He doesn't even believe anything necessarily--he believes only in what benefits himself. All things are permissible. His end is destruction, his God is his own desires, and his glory is in his shame (hence why he gets stabbed by Niffty in the dick). He only cares about sex and his own comfort. He is God in his own mind, and his pride is his downfall.

Lute: Angels make no mistakes! Adam: Yeah, I've never made a mistake in my fuckin' life!

I do think there's a deliberate irony here, and a retelling to a degree of the Fall in Genesis where Adam's character is taken from--Adam's pride, falling for the serpent's words in Genesis 3:

For God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.

But the serpent here is not the literal serpent or the character of Lucifer. Instead, it is Adam's own ego and pride. It is part of his humanity, but he refuses to consider that he could have any flaws. He's flawless. He's God. (He's not, and that's why he dies.)

I do think Hazbin is deliberately criticizing white American evangelical Christianity, and I strongly suspect Adam's character is modeled after a particular category of preacher : the sex-obsessed dudebro. See Mark Driscoll; there's a whole podcast called "The Rise and Fall of Mars Hill" that details his story. And here and here for the tl;dr version. I witnessed this in real time, and know people who survived his church.

These men are almost always brought down by people exposing their own abuse of their power, yet they always crawl back. They do not care about Jesus or God or any belief. They only care about aggrandizing themselves and the world being exactly how they think it should be.

Lute is extremely deferential to Adam and tries to uphold his idiocy. You could say she's a bit of a "pick me." But like Vaggie, she's kind of a victim of brainwashing, and I feel for her. Her admiration of and love for Adam is genuine on her part. But that doesn't make it less toxic, and Adam uses that loyalty to get her to participate in mass murders and yet, when called out on it directly, humiliates Lute.

I think my favorite exchange between Lute and Adam is this:

Adam: Extermination Day is here, bitches. We're going to go down and exterminate demon ass! Lute: Destroy that ass! Adam: Prepare to slaughter every sinner in that shit hotel, and you all remember Vaggie? [The Exorcists all boo Vaggie] Exorcists: Boo! We hate her! Lute: Rip Vaggie's cunt mouth out her ass! Adam: Would you just-ju-chill, Lute. Fuck. Anyway, whoever brings me Vaggie's head gets...uh, I dunno, a million Heaven bucks. How about that, huh?

I have actually seen several YouTube critics laughing and saying "when even Adam thinks you've gone too far, you know you're whacked" and the like. Except, I think that misses the point of this exchange (though to be fair it is comedy and it is funny so I'm not saying it's a wrong impression, just that I think there's a poignant layer to this).

Is anything Lute says worse than what Adam says? Like, Adam has himself said extremely cruel things. Like this:

Oh, fuck yes! I win! Suck it, bitches! You better save the date, cunts, because we're coming to your hotel... first!

But when Lute does it, Adam is repulsed because he knows how it looks to his other followers. His followers can be flawed, after all. He can't be. He throws Lute under the bus for stating exactly what he's asking for in no uncertain terms to remind Lute who is boss, and also because he needs to maintain his position of power.

It's exactly what all these dudebro sex-crazed theobros routinely do. When one of their followers states exactly what they mean without any "heehees" or glitter, they disavow that person when in reality that person represents exactly what they've always said, just without any cloaks. And usually it's a woman. The women who side with these men get hung out to dry eventually.

[toon-topaz]

HIII so basically i am obsessed with your vampire if. I've never even had a specific fixation on vampires lol but i LOVE the idea of giving subaru even more reason to be paranoid of the people around him!!! :D ALSO ALSO the trauma of being killed by vampires?? beings he idolises?? Something else he'll probably have a breakdown about yay!!! ^^ ANYWAY if you don't mind me asking how do you think him being human would affect his relationships with others who know/don't know?? Like in canon he's already an incomprehensible weirdo but now that he's ACTIVELY trying to hide something do those not in the know suspect/distrust him even more?? For those that DO know how do they feel about it?? Do they have to like. Actively cover up for him when he slips up?? Does the shared secret bring them closer?? e.g., in Pristella haha what do you mean its suspicious that you've never seen Natsuki eat?? Now that i think about it since Emilia's been established as a subpar liar its probably Otto who has to save Subarus human ass lol assuming he's eventually told as a part of his camp. Sorry for the uncomfortably detailed ask lmao ur au just grabbed me by the throat and wouldn't let go!!

Oh please don't apologize, I am absolutely delighted to be getting interest in my silly little au :D

I’ll try my best to answer all your questions but feel free to ask more or just throw in some ideas of your own hehe, either in reblogs or DMs I don’t mind.

So yes absolutely he will be having many breakdowns about it on top of your usual “stuck in a timeloop of death” breakdowns lol. He learns very quick why being in a world full of vampires is absolutely not fun, and to be fair he did sort of assume he’d get turned at some point and get to live as one. Alas, he’s simply too fragile to withstand the process, if he even gets that far before just dying of blood loss. He’s very tasty.

His relationships with everyone are made even more complex than they already are by the fact that they could straight up kill him if they pick him up wrong. He has to walk on eggshells and he hates it, and so do they. He’s trying so hard to be a tough masculine man like his father, hell he likes being all rough and tumble and play fighting and all that, but he just can’t. Back home he was at least fairly fit and resilient but here, in comparison to everyone else (even the village children)? He feels utterly worthless, and it absolutely starts to skew his sense of self. Was he ever even that athletic? Has he always been so breakable, or is it just that everyone here is superhuman? It’s not even limited to just Reinhard or Garfiel anymore, it’s everyone, including random thugs. The malnutrition from a lack of a balanced diet in the first few months aren’t helping his physical state, nor is the insomnia.

It isn’t helped by the fact that after just a couple loops, he’s legitimately quite afraid of his friends and enemies alike. He doesn’t hold a candle to them, and if any of them were so inclined to harm him, if they suddenly became hostile (he’s carrying a LOT of miasma, AND his human blood is like ambrosia to pretty much every vampire), there would be quite literally nothing he could do to stop him. And the only failsafe he has is rewinding time a bit to try and stop whatever happened from happening this time.

His developing brain is pretty much fucked, because while he’s terrified of his friends he still loves them all so very much, even the ones who have actually killed, maimed, tortured and/or eaten him. The idea of love in his mind goes hand in hand with fear and pain, and there’s no separating it at this point, which leaves him at once incredibly wary and paranoid, and paradoxically very susceptible to manipulation. He can’t hold it against them, if they get a whiff of his blood they can’t help it, no matter how many nights he spends awake and trembling under his covers. The only one he doesn’t fear like this is Beatrice, because she isn’t a vampire. Once they form their contract he at least has someone to hold onto and keep an eye on the door for him. Beatrice swears she won’t let anything get him in his sleep, and she means it.

The one boon all this has given him, if you can call it that, is that it’s turned him into a VERY good liar. He’s much better at improvising a cover story than his canon counterpart, even able to keep track of multiple lies at once. He allows himself to be a bit more open with his own camp, who all are informed eventually, and with a little bit of help from resident fraud expert Otto, he’s able to have a fully crafted and rehearsed backstory, paperwork and all. He’s only this weak because he’s afflicted with a chronic sickness that stunts his vampiric powers. Yes, it’s permanent, it’s a family curse. Don’t worry about how there’s no records of such a disease existing outside of this one certificate that definitely wasn’t forged.

The constant lying is isolating, but at least this secret is one he keeps on purpose, for a very good reason. At least it’s not something he physically cannot talk about lest he and his loved ones be violently punished, like that other thing. Thanks Satella.

As for how everyone else feels about this, I’ve mostly detailed it in that other post (that I have a followup reblog to in the works I promise), I can link it in the replies if you haven’t seen it.

The whole Priestella thing would be VERY funny though, and by funny I mean horrifying, because these damned Archbishops are even scarier now. I haven’t yet thought about how Dragon’s Blood would affect him differently but man it sure is fun to think about.

Anyways yea that’s my brain dump for now uwu, hope you enjoyed and again, don’t be afraid to start a conversation I love to chat

[alfredosauce50]

Requests are closed, but this has been sitting in my head for months. A white picket fence-themed story with slasher undertones! This is a little different to my other posts (and longer) because it has a concept and build up, but I hope you guys enjoy it anyway!

Content warning: Slasher horror, adult themes, and overall fucked-upness. Viewer discretion advised. R18+ only.

The reader is referred to as she/her.

Yandere America headcanons

Everyone says the same things about him. That he’s friendly, charming, and reliable. The boy-next-door, the type you’d trust your drink with. What nobody knows is that it’s all an elaborate guise to hide his true colors. Once he reveals them, there’s no going back. You’re never getting away from him.

The worst part is, nobody suspects a thing. Everyone would think you’re the crazy one for accusing him. Thus, his untouchable reputation (and cunning) makes him the most dangerous yandere of all.

The office romance

Alfred is the most popular guy in the building. He’s a hard worker, a people person, and lights up the room with his smile. It feels like he has everything going for him: a great job, good looks, and lots of friends that can’t get enough of him. What he can’t seem to get is your attention.

You’re married to the Danish ditz from customer relations, Mathias Densen. HR usually frowns on that sort of thing, but you were cute together. Either way, you’re friends with Alfred for the same reason everyone else is. He’s charming. The only difference is that he makes an effort to see you outside of work—to see a movie, to grab dinner, or to catch up over some coffee.

“So, what do you say? Me and you at Mastro’s?”

You’re walking out of the break room when he jogs over, his blue tie swinging from side to side. He’s been going on about having a steak dinner with a friend, then complaining nobody wants to go with him—only because he hasn’t asked anybody yet.

“I don’t know, Al. Isn’t that place expensive?”

“Hey, it’s not like I’m paying for the both of us.”

“Okay,” You laugh gently, turning toward the cubicles. Everyone is clacking away on their keyboards or speaking into their telephones. Your husband is one of them, only he’s more animated than the rest, nodding away and chuckling every now and then. “I’ll try and get Mat to pick me up at ten.”

“Great! I’ll be sitting in my office pretending to do stuff until we get off.” He beams.

He likes getting on your nerves. It’s that one trick that gets you to feel closer to him. And it works. During work hours, he’ll drop by your desk to steal your snacks for a reaction. He will literally pluck a candy bar or pastry out of your hand and stuff it in his mouth while walking away. When you get mad at him, he’ll just laugh and go, “you’re not supposed to eat at your cubicle. I’m just saving your ass from trouble. If you don’t believe me, you can take it up to HR.”

If he’s not picking on you, he’s a total sweetheart. Alfred will make you coffee without being asked. Mathias usually keeps an eye out for stuff like that, doing favors for you when you need them, but not when he’s predisposed with work. He’s easily distracted, unfortunately. And Alfred is an opportunist. “You look tired. I’ll add in an extra bit of everything to give you the energy.”

Being closer to him, he can act more like himself when he’s around you. That means less of the laughing, small talk, and all that nonsense. He can actually give you a straight answer. You’re willing to let him explain, and if not, you seem to trust him for his judgement. He loves that. He thrives off validation. But by the rare occasion you do disagree with him, you mostly just poke fun at him. “Doesn’t that seem kinda stupid? Or am I just an asshole? I’m the asshole? Okay, fine.”

He starts obsessing over you. It’s refreshing to be around someone he doesn’t need a social battery for. Alfred is also lonelier than he’d like to admit. He can’t count how many superficial acquaintances he has. You’re an outlier, so he make it clear he’s high-strung about you in a ‘guy best friend’ way. He won’t stop competing with Mathias over everything as a joke. It’s really not. “So, is the husband gonna take you to Field of Screams this weekend, or am I gonna have to?”

He makes his attraction to you glaringly obvious. Alfred doesn’t care to hide it. It starts off subtle, like looking at you when he’s laughing in a group setting. Then, he’ll start gazing your way when you aren’t even paying attention to him. When it gets to that point, he has the balls to hold your waist when he’s around you. When I say he’s an expert at playing things off, I mean it.

That’s when he starts scheming. He will match his schedule with yours and sabotage Mathias’s. You start seeing him more during the work week, not knowing it was his doing. Alfred will catch you in the break room every day, making sure to get in every ounce of interaction there is.

What gets him to blow his cover is jealousy. And not from the third-wheeling he’s already doing. That, he can keep a lid on. But telling him you hope to have a baby soon? With your husband?Alfred will turn red in the face and lose his composure. His reaction is visceral, rambling about why you shouldn’t, that it’ll ruin your career, that kids aren’t economic, and any other bullshit reason he can come up with on the spot.

“You’re too young,” He laughs breathily. He’s already rubbing you the wrong way, but he drives the stake in with this comment. “And plus, do you really wanna have a baby with that guy? I mean, look at him—”

You slap him right across the face.

His head turns in the direction of your hand. He falls silent, his smile gone. That’s the end of your friendship. But to him, it’s the start of something else. And it isn’t half as holy as what you have with Mathias. Or what anyone has, for that matter.

“What, do you hate me now? Just say it and I’ll leave you alone.” Alfred gives you a side-eye.

“I really want to hate you.” You fume, wrapping your arms around yourself. Your voice is hushed to hide the hurt in it. “You’re an asshole. But I just want you to apologize, even if I shouldn’t talk to you again.”

“Fine. I’m sorry.”

When you argue

Alfred is manipulative. He victimizes himself or over-exaggerates to make it seem like something is not his fault. “I’m sorry for giving my opinion. I was just trying to be honest,” or “Great. Now I’m the bad guy.” are typical responses when you confront him. He hates being confronted. He will do anything to avoid the blame, even if it means pinning it on you. He never admits he’s wrong.

He needs to have the last word in an argument. He will go back and forth with you for hours if he has to. He only ever stops when you give up, meaning you storm out on him. He’s knocking on your door, pleading to work this out with you. Shut him out all you want, he’ll force himself into the room. “Babe, just hear me out. I’m sorry for being an asshole—wait, don’t lock the door—you locked the door. You know I have keys, right?”

If you’re crying, he turns gentle and affectionate. Kissing, hugging, whispering how sorry he is for hurting your feelings. Alfred then makes it up to you with a romantic dinner, a movie night, or flowers. Even then, he still won’t double-down. He only feels bad for making you cry, not for the point he’s making. Egocentric is his middle name. He thinks his opinions are always right, and can’t see things from another perspective.

Psychology

He has a sense of entitlement like no other. Being close to him will give him the confidence to do anything. He will go from a friend to a homewrecker pretty fast. Why? Because he can. It comes from his undying belief that you’ll always forgive him. That you like him enough to let everything he does slide. And he won’t think twice to take advantage of your soft spot for him.

He has a major superiority complex. Alfred loves what he is—his intelligence, charisma, and wit. He also believes he’s far better for you than Mathias is. What he has with you is more special, and he’s dying on that hill. “You can be with him in another life” is bullshit. Fuck that. Having a husband won’t stop him from chasing you, let alone your rejection. You just need to give him some time. You’ll warm up eventually.

He’s mastered the art of seduction. Once he admits his attitude is out of jealousy, he will try and get you to give in to him. If he can kiss you, or better yet, get you to have sex with him, your marriage will be over. He’ll have you all to himself. “I didn’t want you to have his baby because I want you to have mine. Okay?”

Alfred is very traditional. He loves the idea of having a nice big house in the suburbs. He has a thing for kids too, so it’s no wonder why he freaked out so much in the first place. He’s also happy to play along with gender roles, however obsolete they are. He wants to be the provider. That’s one thing he mentions to persuade you to dump Mathias and marry him instead.

He’s obsessed with his image. Alfred needs to look like a perfect poster boy to compensate for everything he’s thinking about doing, or what he’s already done. Being admired is a coping mechanism for him to be at peace with himself. He’s deluding himself that he’s a good person. There’s a practicality of a good reputation too—he can avoid any and all suspicion.

What’s unique about him is that he never ‘snaps’. He retains a level-headedness throughout, even while doing the most unsound things. Making threats, stalking, you name it. He can look Mathias straight in the eye and say, “I’ll kill you,” before smiling and playing it off as a joke. It’s not. He’s already thinking about how he’s gonna do it.

He feels no empathy for his victims. There’s a ‘necessity’ in his actions, and he refuses to think they’re really just violent impulses. He associates aggression with unrefined criminals, which he feels he’s above. He’s too clever and classy to be a criminal. He’s too ‘in control’ of himself. Alfred could be the most dangerous out of all the prisoners behind bars, but he’d get pretty pissed being treated like the same—like an animal.

He’s a true-blue psychopath. It’s hard to gauge how much love he’s capable of, but his obsession with you goes without saying. Keeping you in his grasp is all he can care about. Controlling how the world sees him will make sure of that. Killing anybody in his way is just maintenance. There’s a satisfying finality of death, the absolute silence of possible witnesses. His victims will never get him caught if they’re in the trunk of his car. The soil in his garden. When they let out their last breath, all they see is the million-dollar smile that everyone fell for. It’s a final display of power, a cruel reminder that he will never be caught.

His first target is your unassuming husband. The trigger is simple—your plans to start a family with him. Alfred needs to get rid of him before that happens. He will study his schedule before following him in his car. When Mathias is alone, he will sneak up from behind and hit him in the back of his head with a bat. Alfred will pack his body in his trunk like he’s packing for Summer.

He’ll comfort you while you’re grieving your husband’s sudden disappearance. When you’re anxious in the middle of the night, he’s more than happy to talk to you over the phone. Alfred is now closer to you than ever, and makes it a habit to swing by and keep you company. What he can’t change is how you feel about Mathias. He’s long dead and gone, but your love for him is undying. Sometimes, you might even cry about how much Alfred reminds you of him.

That’s how he comes up with this: impersonating and replacing your late husband. An opportunity comes along when you get in a car accident. Alfred rushes to the hospital to see you, only for the doctor to inform him of the brain trauma you endured. You have retrograde amnesia; you can’t remember major details about your life. Not your friends, family, or a Mathias Densen being in your life. Alfred would be a fool if he didn’t take advantage of that. He will sit by your bedside and lie that he’s your husband, the Mr to your Mrs.

Home life

Alfred is a con artist. Not only will he convince you of your new marital status, he’ll get rid of any evidence of Mathias being in your life. He’ll photoshop his face out of your pictures and replace it with his own. It’s easy to do because they look similar. Then, he shows it to you to ‘refresh’ your memories of him. You’re sitting in your hospital bed, bonding with him over events that never happened. Not with him, anyway. “And these—” He flips through a photo book before wiping his eyes. “—these are our wedding photos. They’re really, really pretty, I know. We rented out a National park and everything.”

He takes you ‘home’ to the middle of nowhere. The house is a huge, rustic, and gorgeous manor in the mountains, i.e., miles away from your next door neighbor. It’s the perfect getaway for fresh air, quiet, and enjoying the wilderness. Alfred can live the life he’s always idealized, and with the woman he’s idealized it with. He won’t have to worry about anybody finding you here, either. “Once you get a little better, we can try out the pool. It’s heated.” He grins, turning to you with a spatula in hand. You’re sitting in the patio while he barbecues some meat. As for the apron, it’s a bright pink one with ‘kiss the cook’ on it. And you do, thanking him for how sweet he’s being.

He’s a dedicated husband. Alfred is incredibly sensitive to your mood, and will do anything to keep you comfortable. He has no problem going to work, doing the chores and being there for you when you need him, especially while you recover. You worry you’re not doing enough, but he always assures you otherwise. All he wants is for you to get used to moving around on your own. Deep down, he knows that having you is more than what he deserves. Being the perfect hubby is almost like his redemption for what he did.

He works on himself. He can’t ruin what he has with you, so he tries to mellow out his more undesirable traits—narcissism, apathy, etc. Alfred will go to therapy for it. Separating from him isn’t on the table. Ever. What are people gonna say when you tell them you divorced a man you never married? What is Alfred gonna do when they tell you about your real husband? Keeping you happy is his number one priority, and he’ll feel good while doing it.

Alfred manages all your affairs. You don’t know where everything is, all your files, documents, and important passwords. You don’t ‘remember’ them, apparently. But that’s no problem. He can handle it. He becomes the more dominant one in the relationship, being responsible for the bills and bureaucratic side of things. There’s nothing you can do without asking him first, but it never feels restricting, or demeaning for that matter. He’s always kind about it, doing things for you and taking the lead, so you feel protected.

He’s very sensual. Alfred values the physical aspect of the relationship, and, of course, the time he spends with you. He loves taking you on long walks where he can just hold your hand and ramble about all the animals he wants to find. Deer, chipmunks, even butterflies. He loves it when you take off his glasses just to kiss him. Suddenly, he doesn’t want to look for animals anymore. “Wanna go home and kiss in the pool?”

He likes sleeping in on Sundays. That gives you the chance to get up and make breakfast for him. Alfred is a pretty heavy sleeper, but it doesn’t take long for him to wake up when you’re not next to him. He will get out of bed, throw on a robe, and saunter into the kitchen with the worst bed head of the century. While you’re frying up some pancakes, he will hug you from behind. “Can you put in some chocolate chips for mine?” Alfred mumbles, squeezing you tighter. You ask him to let go of you so you can get it for him, and he’ll just change his mind on the spot. “Nah.”

He has to be in the same room as you. The house is pretty damn big, but it doesn’t feel like a home when he can’t be with you. If you’re folding laundry in the bedroom, he will walk in, flop onto the bed, and clack away on his laptop. If you’re watching TV when he comes home from work, he will put his head on your lap and take a nap. Alfred is clingy when he’s tired, but who doesn’t sleep better when they’re around loved ones?

He’s the most affectionate when he wakes up in the morning. Not only is he comfortable in bed, he’s turned on by your smell. You’ve been under the covers with him for hours, so your scent is the strongest now. Alfred will cuddle you for a good hour or so, kissing you until you memorize the taste of his tongue. He also has to deal with morning wood, so morning sex becomes a bit of a routine. It’s the first thing on the menu, after all.

Not a month goes by before you find out you’re pregnant. Either from him, or Mathias. You think it’s Alfred’s. Alfred doesn’t know that, though. But it’s not like he’s gonna check. A paternity test could potentially be evidence for his crimes. Either way, it doesn’t matter. He’s excited to be a father, and there’s nobody else out there that can claim the baby is theirs. The baby will look like him too, so it won’t make much of a difference.

He’s happy, you’re happy, and Mathias has germinated into a flower. There’s a pretty patch of daisies in the backyard, which you see Alfred tending to every now and then. He’s picked up gardening as a hobby ever since he moved here.

“I didn’t know you liked flowers,” You comment mindlessly, staring into the yard from the balcony. The daisies sway lightly to the breeze, and you stand watch. He’s hugging you from behind, kissing your head and cheek. “They look really nice, by the way.”

“Nice enough to not be dug up, I hope.”

“Why would I dig up something you planted?”

“You wouldn’t.” Alfred smiles. “You wouldn’t.”

[dufferpuffer]

OKOKOK

I read your post on Remadora yesterday and stumbled on this today on instagram https://www.instagram.com/p/C-S1DTwq6dZ/?igsh=cHRtcTEyMXYxbDht

IT JUST WORKS SO WELL WITH WHAT YOU SAID. I am a sucker for Remadora (and Snupin). What you wrote about them is so true. Please tell me more 🥹

that is such a sweet little comic there's my man, there he is!! He'd need a drink after doing that... I cant stop laughing though the last picture gives this energy

IDK what to say, so I'm gonna Remadora ramble, aight? B^) I actually like how their relationship in the books progressed - but is only glimpsed at. It's nice when romance takes back seat. Their relationship issues felt grounded and adult - when even most adult media has romance feeling immature.

Harry wouldn't have been able to understand what was going on with them anyway. He didn't even suspect it, when all the adults were dealing with it all the time. He was a kid. It's a good reminder of his immaturity that he didn't pick up on it until Tonks was literally grabbing Remus by the robes and shouting her love at him.

I don't wanna too personal on here, I guess... but I like how Remus reacts to Tonks' love. Having lived that - twice - I suspect the author has lived it too. I have two boyfriends, both of them are older than me (9yrs and 17yrs older) and love was scary for them!!! The societal prejudice we have faced adds more pressure on them as the older males... and they aren't even werewolves, or pariahs. Positive representation really does feel nice, yknow?

That makes the tragedy of Remadora hurt so much more. I like that HP isn't a story that pulls its punches. That it's not a narrative about fixing a broken world, just surviving it. But so much about the way HP ended... feels hollow. Like quickly tying up all the threads without much thought to the themes.

I am a firm believer that Tonks should have lived. Remus can die - as much as that hurts my soul - to tie up the 'previous generation'. He shouldn't be the only one to survive, thematically. If anyone that should be Severus. If Teddy was supposed to be a mirror to Harry, but gets to live in a more hopeful future with a huge family... that should have been shown in the Epilogue. But it wasn't. He is brushed over.

Tonks' story would be phenomenal: a young widow who chased a doomed love that changed her, who will make a better world for others like her husband in his memory... A talented mother balancing a tough career and her son. The last Black - who rejects the name. The widow of a werewolf. Teddy, who grows up so much like his mother - with a complex connection to a father who is both a hero and a monster... who ran off and died rather than survive with them. His mother's love protects him, but its his father he years to understand.

I just think??? That's wonderful??? And it's such a fucking waste to kill her off for... what??? Just to make an orphan to ignore???

Tonks herself is fine. I like her. She doesn't interest me heaps, she feels custom-fit to Remus... and I suffer from cishet-woman syndrome of obsessing over men because horny. Oopsy. But LIVING would make her amazing. Remus wouldn't DEFINE her - but it'd show how worthwhile his love was to her life, that she keeps living it as a wolf rather than a rabbit. As it stands... Remus' fear that he is bad, that nobody should know him or love him, came true.

[chaos-grimlin]

Intro: No one truly knows what happened that night in Woodsboro, California. All the public knows was that two teenage boys, Billy Loomis and Stu Macher, went crazy. That the boys killed with no motive, that it was a case of crazy and peer pressure. Sidney Prescott, the "girlfriend" of Billy Loomis,Y/n L/n, the girl both boys were deeply obsessed with, and Gale weathers, a news reporter, where 3 of 5 witnesses that were willing to talk and tell their sides of the story to the public while Dewy Riley, the deputy sheriff of woodsboro, and tennager Randy Meeks refused to talk to law enforcements at the time. All the stories told to law enforcement seem to differ from person to person, but...in this tale, we will focus on Y/n, the obsessions, side of the story...

Marked(Poly! Billy and Stu x reader)

Word count:1022

(Idk why the gif is so small-)

Chapter 13- Imagination

^^^Y/n P.O.V^^^

I stood up on my jelly like legs. My body was shaking and my mind was foggy.

Hurtful thoughts raced through my mind. I wish I could go back in time and save Casey..

I let my shakey fingers grip the knob of the sink and turn it till the slowly warming water streamed from the tap.

I cupped my hands under the water and then splashed the hot water onto my face. The hot water burned the tender skin on my face, but it felt nice.

I used my hands to wipe the water off of my face, but... Once I looked into the mirror, all i saw was red all over where i had wiped.

My throat went dry, my body stiffened, and my blood ran cold.

My eyes slowly trailed down to my hands and I saw red dawning on my fingers and palms and dripping down my arms.

"Casey's blood"

My whole world crumbled and moved in slow motion as I lifted my arms and saw her blood dripping onto the floor.

I closed my eyes, wishing this was all a dream, wishing that i wasnt in the bathroom with Caseys blood dripping onto my body, a feeling i was all too familiar with..

I closed my eyes, stray tears dripped from my tear ducts.

I took in a shaky breath as I opened my eyes, and when i did, the blood was gone...

I saw water coating my hands and drip down my forearms.

It was all just my imagination fucking with me in the worst ways possible.

I looked away from ny hands and looked at my own reflection..

The whites of my eyes were a light shade of red, my skin had gone paler, and deep purple marks dawned on my neck.

I let out a shakey sigh. "Y/n..me and Randy are sorry....please come out" I heard Tatum say.

My body tensed when i heard her voice. She had just yelled at me because I had said Stu could be a suspect.

"Yeah...were so so sorry... Please just come out" Randys soft, sad voice called out to me.

I turned my head towards the door and slowly pulled it open, being met with Tatum and Randy wrapping their arms around me.

I was quick to hug them back. "Im so sorry..i shouldn't have gotten so mad at you" Tatum whispered, "its fine..i should have stayed quiet" I added. Tatum sighed. "No you don't need to stay quiet Y/n...we were all stating opinions" Randy said as he and Tatum pulled away from the group hug.

I stayed quiet and averted eye contact with them both...

~~~Time skip~~~

Dewy came back to the house 2 hours later.

"Well...I filed the report and Billy is down as a suspect. So we will question him and check his call logs okay?" Dewy said with a gental tone as he put his hand on my back.

"Okay" I said as I looked up at him and forced a smile "thank you Dewy" i added. "Oh no problem.. Also your mom said that you can stay here you'll just need to go get your clothes.". Dewy said

I was almost shocked when Dewy sais that. My mom, of all people, would NEVER let me stay with someone she didn't know.

My mom didn't know Dewy nor Tatum. She only barely knew Randy and she wouldn't let me stay over at his place.. But she'd let me stay with Dewy and Tatum and their parents.

I nodded "I'll go pick them up now" I said.

"Do you want me to drive you?" Dewy asked. "No..its fine" i said with a small smile. "Do you want me to walk with you?" Randy chimed in. "No thank you..id rather walk and clear my head" I muttered.

"But its not safe" Dewy said as he tilted his head at me and ran his fingers through his short hair.

"Ill be fine" "even after the call? The threat?" "It'll all be fine"

Me, Randy, and Dewy went back and forth between the topic of me walking alone.

I wanted to be alone to clear my head and plus the call was more then likely an empty threat to fuck with me.

Students at Woodsboro can be quite mean..

"Fine... Just be safe" Dewy said as he patted my back.

"Yeah..be safe.." Randy muttered before wrapping his arms around me, engulfing me in a hug "I love you" he whispered in my ear.

Those three words were words i didn't hear alot...

They made me nearly forget what i was doing and they made butterflys hatch in my gut and fluttered around .

"I love you too Randy" i whispered back with a smile before i turned on my heels and walked to the door, opened it,and walked out, shutting the door behind me.

The daylight slowly died as darkness consumed it. I looked up slightly, my eyes catching the sights of twinkling stars.

The nights in Woodsboro were always pretty.

I wrapped my arms around myself as a strong gust of cold wind blew and tangled around my body.

I shivered slightly but i kept walking.

As i was walking, all the baby hairs on my neck rised and goosebumps formed on my skin as i felt that feeling..

The same feeling i felt the night Casey did..

The feeling like someone was watching me, analyzing my ever step.

I bit my lip softly as i hoped that the feeling was just a dream, just my mind fucking around with me again, making me feel and see things that werent true.

My lungs burned and ached as i sped up again, feeling eyes stair into the back of my skull.

I glanced back behind me but didnt see anyone.

My breathing was unsteady as I jogged.

A string of swears left my lips as i turned back around and kept running.

After every step i took the world seemed to slow down, till...i saw my house looming in the distance...

[byrdstrolls]

Meet-Cute

(teehee, wil and melina belong to @dirgelwch!!)

Wilmar Roheir was probably the worst person you could have picked to investigate this case. This is not said as a detriment, but as a disclaimer. He was excellent at reading people. He was good with hard, physical evidence. His mind was as sharp as it ever was in connecting dots and finding patterns. But his damning flaw would be his lack of experience with technology. The key strings and pieces that tied together each of Tyler’s victims were purely digital. The pattern in the victims was clear. They were all jadeblood women, aged 20-25. They had similar horns, facial features, sometimes even clothes. They were all unarmed, killed by gunfire. His first guess would be some kind of psychosocial obsession with replicating perhaps the first victim. The pathos was the easy part to understand. How the killer found them? 

Er, He had no idea. 

The deaths weren’t pinned down by any one location. The killer traveled long distances sporadically. There was no physical trail of evidence, no repeated character or place in any of their lives. They came from different caverns, towns, backgrounds. Their homes were never broken into, the front door left open as if inexplicably, each and every single woman let the killer in. Several even had more robust security systems that were deactivated seemingly by administrator. Perhaps the killer had some kind of voodoos that made them pliant, or allowed him to track them down all across the country. 

But maybe he didn’t need to know that. Maybe he didn’t need to understand the complex digital web Oswell had enclosed around Alternia. Maybe all he needed to know was the pattern, because it was predictable, because it was concise and never varied. Because just maybe, he could find a troll that fit the exact profile before the killer did, and simply cozy down in a stakeout and wait. It was something he had put on the backburner. The private investigator worked several cases at once, and the time consuming work of looking through records for a jade with a similar horn shape was something he’d sometimes just knock out 30-45 minutes of at the end of a long day. 

It had only been last week he had found one. A librarian, a two to three hour drive from here. He had made the trip, and had the difficult conversation with her that he suspected she might soon be targeted by a murderer. He had given her his contact information, and told her to call if she saw ‘anything suspicious. Anything suspicious at all’. Monday through Thursday, radio silence. Friday morning, the woman had rung him up to tell him she had gotten a strange text, threatening her with blackmail and demanding to meet up in person. Incredible, that it had happened so fast. He wasn’t sure if he could call it lucky or unlucky. Just a little chilling. Had he been even just a week later, this lady could have died. 

The blackmail explained their willingness to meet with the killer, at least a little. He buckled up and made the long drive down to this woman’s hive again. The trap that could be laid from there was idiot proof. Agreeing to meet with the killer, Wilmar could hide in a nearby closet or something, and simply pop out once the troll was in sight and subdue him. He sat down at the kitchen table, and with the woman drafted and sent a willing response. The dots on the other side of the screen danced for a moment, disappearing, and appearing again. 

[Haha okay] the killer says. [Just one question! I noticed you made a phone call at 10:21 earlier tonight :> Wondering what that was about <3]

Wil stared down at the phone. Wondering how the hell they knew what kind of calls she was making. 

[was talking with my hive cleaners] he answers. 

[Wowwwww that's funny because I ran a search on the number and it actually pops up for a private investigator firm. The economy truly is in shambles if you’ve got detectives vacuuming your rugs.]

[Irenie, do you pretty please promise, that when I show up at your hive you wont send out some kind of guy with a gun in a wig, right? Like you’re not that stupid. And neither am I. And I would kill you and leak your sensitive images anyways.] 

“What’s he saying?” Asks the concerned Irenie to him from across the room, and he sighs, squinting at the phone keyboard. Not wanting to scare her. 

“More threats.” Wilmar answers, and that's not a complete lie, is it?

“Are you sure this is safe?” She asks. 

“I’ll be right here the whole time.” He answers, trying to compose another text. 

[I promise]

Simple and to the point. 

[And I’m just supposed to take you at your word?] The killer answers. 

[you asked.]

[More as a demeaning hypothetical to illustrate my knowledge more than anything.]

[it's only been a few hours. You really think a detective was able to make the trip all the way down here for a minor blackmailing threat? Those assholes didn’t send me anybody.]

[They’re still gonna be poking around once things are over.] 

[when things are ‘over’?] He answers. Two can play at the game of catching someone one out. The typing bubble appears again, and then disappears. 

[Yes, when our meeting is over. You’re gonna call them again.] He responds, barely skipping a beat. 

[can’t we just talk this out, like civil trolls? I don’t even know you. Why are you doing this to me] 

[I need something from you. It will only take a second.] 

[then get over here already] he pleads. [Whatever you want, you can have it. Don’t leak my images.] 

[If there's a detective there you’re both dead, do you understand?] 

[I understand. It’s just me. I won’t call them again.]

The bubble appears, and disappears again. 

[okay.] The killer says, finally. [see you.] 

Wilmar sets down the phone, pushing up his glasses, barely able to believe that worked. And then passively scolds himself for celebrating so early. The troll could still not show. But judging from how the killer had spoken, he seemed to be missing a key part of the puzzle, that he was already working with Irenie prior to the call this morning. 

The good thing about not working digitally, is that things like Wilmars initial drive out and verbal conversation with the woman months were invisible to him. No phone record. Perhaps the story he had spun about the agency not being able to send someone out this early and quickly seemed reasonable to Tyler. 

.

.

.

.

.

He was not sure what he expected when he climbed in between Irenie’s sweater, squeezing himself just barely into a closet in her living room. He left the door ever so slightly ajar, not wanting to break the woman's doorknob by kicking it out, lifted his pistol close to his chest, and hunkered down. 

“Can you see me?” He calls out. 

“No,” Irenie answers, wringing her hands. “You’re a big guy tho, it can’t be comfortable.” 

“I’ll manage.” 

“Are you sure you don’t want snacks, or anything?” She says. 

Wilmar pauses, blinking incredulously. Of course not. He needed his hands free, and the killer would be showing up in only about ten minutes. But he should not be harsh. People say all kinds of silly things when they’re scared. 

“I’m fine.” He answers. “But thank you.” 

The jadeblood paces back and forth, and Wil stares at the wooden grain of the door. 

The previous victims had not been large, but there often seemed to be some kind of struggle. Judging by the autopsies, the killer was not that skilled a shot, seeming to rely on being the only one with a gun and just shooting it repeatedly. Best case scenario, he manages to quickly disarm him. He wasn’t expecting a huge troll here. Trolls who kill for pleasure usually only use guns if they have no other choice, if they don't have a physical advantage that would allow them to overpower and spend more time with the victim. His first guess had been that the Killer was some kind of jade, or highblood government official, who would have access to a vast amount of records that would lead him into finding these women. He had guessed he was small. 

But, glancing as the troll walks in, he had not thought he would be that small, that sickly looking. Ding Ding for highblood, though, he thinks, catching a glimpse of what sure appears to be fuschia eyes through the crack of the door. The guy has a gun in one hand, and a photograph in the other. 

“Hi” Tyler says, and bizarrely, holds the photograph up seemingly to compare it with the victim's face. 

He could ponder the implications of this later. The troll was distracted. This was his moment. Wil slams open the door, and fires a shot out the window, having a triple purpose both to distract, scare, and warn the attacker. Tyler jumps, and then he just rushes him, hands closing down on the man’s weapon, and after a moment's struggle, wriggling it out of his grasp. He was small, but he was definitely spirited, scratching and biting and letting out several anguished noises. 

“Hey” Wil says sternly. He had two guns, what did this guy think he was accomplishing here? He winces as the guy’s nails dig into him, and resolves to just reach over, and grab the serial killer by the scruff of his hoodie, lifting him up like a disobedient kitten, and holding him just out of reach. 

“Hey” He repeats, a little more loudly. 

“Kill him!!” Irenie exclaims suddenly in a random twist of vengefulness.

“Calm down,” Wilmar says. “Both of you. He’s disarmed.” 

The woman stares for a moment, rouses, before smoothing out her dress. 

“Sorry.” She says flatly. “Got carried away.” 

“I will make your life hell,” Tyler says. “I will send every nsfw text you’ve ever sent to your employer if you don’t set me down right now. You have no idea who you’re messing with. I could destroy you with the click of a button!” 

“N-s-f-w?” Wilmar answers, completely sidestepping this threat by a simple way of not understanding acronyms. 

“If you kill or arrest me” He says. “You and everyone you love will regret it until the day you die.” Tyler threatens, having another fit of trying to attack him and failing. 

“Uh huh” Wilmar answers, unphased. “Shaking in my boots.” 

He turns back to Irenie. 

“I’m gonna head back to the office” He says, tilting his head at the redhead. “I’ll keep you updated.”

The little guy continues to try punching him, maybe even landing an odd blow but not having a lot of force behind them. Eventually, Wil wants this to not be his problem anymore enough that he grabs the man’s arms, flipping him over and handcuffing them behind his back. He’s smaller than him, but this still requires a little bit of force. Suddenly, he squints, glancing down at a spot on the troll's wrist where, for the lack of a better word, the color of the troll's skin has smudged ever so slightly, like a well set foundation.

 He is baffled for only half a second, but unfortunately for Tyler, he has already met one of his kind before. This case only gets more confusing as it goes. The last thing on Alternia he expected was a human serial killer. Against his will, enough of a vague sense of pity encapsulates him that he decides not to inform Irenie of this discovery. 

“Are you gonna kill him there?” Irenie asks. 

“We’ll figure it out once we get there,” Wilmar answers. 

Tyler suddenly pauses his wriggling. 

“My photograph!” The alien insists suddenly. “Grab my photograph! I won’t leave without it!” He says, as if he still has any kind of choice in the matter.  

Irenie, possessed by curiosity, starts to walk over towards where the thing had dropped on the floor. 

“Stay back bitch!” The human insists, kicking his legs in the way, trying to drag the polaroid back near him with his feet to varying degrees of success. 

“I got it,” Wilmar says, leaning down to pick up the thing.

In the half a second he does not have a hand on him, Tyler immediately sprints for the door, only to be tripped by Irenie putting out her leg to trip him. Wil sighs. 

“Are you gonna be like this the whole way?” He says, pocketing the photograph. Tyler does not answer, only glaring daggers with his vibrant, sunken eyes, and Wil picks him up off the floor and throws him over his shoulder. It was probably going to be a long two and half hour drive. 

.

.

.

.

.

By the time they got to the office, the murderer had changed his tune. In an almost ridiculous one eighty, Tyler had turned into a picture of politeness and kind hearted restraint perhaps in the hopes of sucking up enough to get out of this whole thing. He could easily tell he was lying with his pssionics, but he might not have needed them even with how the human was acting. Chronically online was not a term that was in Wilmar’s vocabulary nor sphere of reference, but he was able to surmise that the man’s social skills were sorely lacking. 

“Mr. Detective” Tyler says, as he had suddenly taken to calling him mid car ride. “This is all a big misunderstanding.” 

“How so?” He says, flipping through his desk for the paperwork he needed to finish filing this case. 

“You hunt murderers- that's the same thing I do! We’re on the same side, really.” Oswell insists, tilting his head. 

Suddenly, Wilmar pauses. Confusingly, the alien appeared to be telling the truth, or at the very least, he believed he was telling the truth. 

“What did 30-40 unrelated jadeblood women ever do to you?” He asks. 

“They- Mr Detective, one of them killed someone close to me. I’m just trying to figure out who.” 

Wil pulls the photo out of his pocket, the pieces sliding together, Tyler freezes as he stares down at the picture. Perhaps the human had just recalled his very not troll mother was clearly in frame. 

“This lady?” Wilmar says, pointing at Taylor,  taking the whole alien thing so nonchalantly it confused him. There is a long pause before he answers. 

“Yes,” Tyler says slowly. 

“So you’re looking for this woman” He says. “Trying to find this murderer, and just… killing every single woman with a vague resemblance to her just in case?” 

The Alien does not answer. 

“I am sorry to break it to you,” Wilmar says. “But that is not even remotely close to anything I do as a detective.” 

“Not even a little bit?” 

The cerulean cusp sighs, touching the bridge of his nose, trying to think of how to handle this. He couldn’t give him over to law enforcement, he’d immediately be culled. But he couldn’t just let him run around massacring people either. He continues to shuffle through his papers, thinking. 

“Okay” He says, straightening a pile of reports by taping it on the desk. “How about this? I let you go, you stop murdering people, and I take on this case and find this woman’s killer for you.”

Perhaps forgetting he was supposed to be being charismatic and demure, Tyler Oswell laughs out loud. 

“Are you deranged?” He says. “Are you stupid? Is it crack that you smoke? I have been looking since I was thirteen years old. I have an entire galactic empire to search and the hunt has consumed me for half a decade. You think you can just FIND the troll that murdered my parents? You think you can just FIND them???” He says. Then, he finally seems to recall he wants to leave this place, and get out of here consequence free. 

“I mean,” he says. “You must be very good at your job, Mr. Detective. Sure, that deal seems fair to me.” 

Wil squints back at him, and then exhales. “Alright” He says. “I still have some things I need to file regarding this. Wait out front and I’ll be there in just a second.” 

.

.

.

.

It does not take long lingering in the lobby for Tyler to figure out he’s being watched. A minor debate happens in his mind on whether or not to turn his head and notify whoever was across the way he had noticed, out of fear of both violence and awkwardness. Eventually, in a series of slow, hopefully natural looking movements, he shifts his sight far enough that direction to notice the other troll in the room. 

She was a woman, standing calmly across the way in a long Victorian gown. She had long, platinum white hair that curled where it fell on her collarbone. Wasn’t that an unusual color for trolls? His mind went immediately to his own redheadedness, and then quickly dismissed the comparison as silly, but a misplaced feeling of solidarity did not fade. She was dressed modestly, which he liked. She had a smile that well, could not quite be called serene but there was something distant about it. She was taller than him, by at least four to five inches, and he could not decide whether this upset him or not. With a careful unease, the thought crossed his mind that, between a gender segregated boarding school, and male juvenile detention center on earth, and never leaving his hive on Alternia, Tyler had not really had a lot of chances to have more than passing conversations with women since he was young. His gaze slid away from her to the floor, suddenly frustrated by this. 

“Hi,” He says. “Are you the like, secretary?” Coming out swinging with a misplaced sexism that his teachers in Edinburgh would have been proud of but only confused Melina. 

“The what?” She answers. 

“You know, the lady up front who answers calls and does paperwork” he describes. 

For an elongated moment, the troll simply stares at him blankly. 

He begins to feel uncomfortable, suddenly. Knowing that this alien did not have the background on complicated gender dynamics of earth to understand that what he said had been demeaning, but inside some hidden part of him he was unwilling to admit, he knew its implications. 

“No.” She answers, finally, continuing to flash that smile. 

“Sorry” he says nonchalantly. “I haven’t talked to a girl in years.” 

“Ah” She answers. “That’s alright.” The troll takes a step or two closer.“My name is Melina,” She says. “What’s your’s, if you’re willing to share?”

Comforted by the familiarity of her politeness, he relaxes a little.

“I’m Tyler Oswell” He says, offering a small half smile. “It’s nice to know some people still have manners” He remarks, as if he himself had not just been asking Wilmar if he smokes crack and threatening to leak his nudes not so long ago. 

“I’ve known one of your kind before” She says, regarding him with an intense and possessed curiosity in her eyes. 

“You have?” He asks, made only mildly self conscious by it, curious as well. 

Suddenly, a darkness flashes across her gaze, as if remembering something unpleasant, or maybe painful. 

“Yes” She answers. “I didn’t know there were more of you around” She says, artfully sidestepping a deeper explanation regarding Vinh, the playfulness returning to her gaze. “Why are you handcuffed?” 

“Silly reasons” he dismisses, turning his hands in the cuffs. Suddenly, he is taken by a bizarre desire to do something impressive. 

“Wanna see a trick I learned in earth juvie?” He says. 

“Earth what?” She answers. 

He does not answer, instead deciding to put extravagant amounts of effort into trying to shim the cuff’s Wilmar had put on him, and frustratedly not being able to manage it. The more Melina gazed as this bizarre looking behavior with confusion, the more frantic he became, pushing his knuckles together more and more forcefully, until, with a tiny, upsetting little crack, he is able to pull his hands from the cuffs, having severely cut into his index finger. 

“Are you alright?” Melina asks. 

“I’m fine” he answers, blinking back tears.

She stares at him for a moment. 

“I’ll grab a bandage” She says, “The denizens of Earth Juvie do not appear to be as reliable a teacher as you imply them to be.” She says. 

“It’s- that barely hurt” he insists. But Melina does not seem to entertain this response, returning with a small bandage anyways. He winced as the purpleblood carefully cleaned and wrapped the wound. She lingered perhaps just a little bit too long at the sight of his bright red, human blood, which upset him. 

“Why are you here if you don’t work here? Also under arrest?” He asks. 

“No,” She says, with a slight tilt of her head. “I’m friends with one of the detectives.”

“The blue one?” Tyler says. 

“Do you mean Wilmar…?” Melina replies, ever so slightly confused. 

“Never asked his name” The human replies. “Is he blue?” 

“You may not know this, as an alien” Mel answers. “But that’s a strange way to refer to someone's blood color. Blue encompasses several castes.”

Yes or no question! He wants to retort. But in a remarkable show of restraint and slightly condescending ‘respect’ for women, an earth specialty that regarded the other gender as much too fragile for such things, he does not. 

“Sorry.” He says. “I couldn’t tell which.” 

“My friend is an indigo cerulean cusp,” She says. 

“That would explain it.” He says, slightly unhappy she was close with the man, Tyler did not have any real fondness for him.

“Have you been on Alternia long?” She asks. “How are you finding it?” 

“Pshh” He mutters. “Not very long” he lies. It has been five years. But he doesn’t want to tell her that, because it would make his cultural blunders harder to justify. 

“I could show you around,” She says. “If you’d like.” And then she pauses. “Perhaps also help you with a better disguise” She says. 

It’s not the first time someone had told him that, but the way she quietly sidesteps outright remarking on his stupidity pleases him. He glances back at Wilmar’s office. 

“I don’t know how long this will take.” he says, lifting up his left hand and glancing at the one cuff still attached, the other swinging below it. He pauses. Contemplating just dipping from here as he had many times attempted to do earlier. But, he did not feel altogether mentally prepared for an outing the likes of which Melina had described. It felt like the kind of thing he needed at least a day to convince himself to do at least. 

“Could I have your number?” He asks, pulling out his phone. “And maybe we could meet up some other time?” 

“Sure,” Melina says, taking out her phone as well to recite it to the strange little man. 

Tyler Oswell constructed the first non-murder victim phone contact he had made in years, writing down Melina’s name and number. The conversation was more friendly and curious than everything, but by the time made it home for the day he had already retroactively decided and imagined he had been quite suave.